The shift is on

 

On Friday, Jake met Charlie at the bus stop after school. They packed for the weekend and drove to their new home. Missy met them there and they spent the whole weekend painting and whatever else a house needs to start looking like home before the stuff arrives. Smart.

The official moving day is still in flux. Fortunately, their furniture is in storage with family only fifteen minutes from the new place. More importantly Granny, Aunt, Uncle, and little cousins are also that close. That is an immense comfort to me.

It was quiet around here. Colin was at work and I was left with four felines who couldn't seem to settle anywhere, hunting from room to room for their housemates. In and out the cat door, fussing over previously shared territories. 

I will learn how to be alone again. It's only an hour and ten minutes' drive to visit and you know how I love to drive.

Cloth & stitch is better than getting a tattoo. 

a gathering place

 

Some people journal. Looks like this is where I'm going to spend the early morning light. Gathering thoughts, ordering them, organizing the day. Priorities. 

Remember the Magic InvisibiIity Cloak? It's long past wearable, gathering dust on the back of my office chair. I remembered how I rushed it into existence. Paving it over with whatever shouted the loudest from the River Basket.  I'll be salvaging the tasty bits that stayed strong. 

I'm not going to rush this new one. A stitch here, a stitch there, as time allows. Images that resonate, colors that thrill me. And never shying away from picking out a bad or thoughtless passage of stitching. 

Nothing lasts forever. 

And that includes inventory. 

On the one hand, the next hot summer day feels a long time away. 

On the other, how the days fly by!

Home

 After taking time to straighten up the threadbox, I found just enough heat to start my engines. Didn't even draw the shape. Always mindful that I could remove it without harming the cloth. Also not referring to the original once I got started.  It's good.

On to the big news. Jake, Missy, and Charlie have found their home. The closing was yesterday and they plan on celebrating Christmas there.

Home will always be where the heart is.

Juiced

It's in here somewhere.

I have a new denim jacket - my Dixie Mink - and I want to either stitch this high on the sleeve or stitch another (as if) directly to the shirt. Problems abound.

A. I can't find this one.

B. I have NO red, even warmish, dirty thread in my stash. In fact, my stash is so vanilla these days, every time I open the box, I get sad and just shut it.

That sad thing. I'm at a place where I'm deciding if I want to eat a big hunk of the shitty, sad pie that I have been baking for myself daily. 

Or not. Decision made.

The remedies (and the results) are much tastier. 

I hate being web-coy, but it's not all about me, so, more facts in time. 

As I rummaged through my stash for the heart, I found snips of red-hot fun everywhere. For now, I'm resisting the urge to build a heart from these scraps because I won't be happy with the outcome. 

Doing for the sake of doing never does it for me. Ever. 

Patience.

 

All hands

So much inspiration everywhere. 

I cleaned out the River Basket and found a few UFOs that I barely recognized. A few that only need finishing touches.

The base is a piece of that modern, super-light linen. The pieces that fall into place as I cut and bend them to my will, damask. All of it dyed over this wonderful, one-of-a-kind summer.

The stitching is helping me find balance. A groove and an anchor in the face of changes.