Scrap refresh

 

I've been making up orders (bless you all) and felt that the scrap basket could use some pizzazz. 

Actually, the giant tote that I keep my personal stash in fell off the third closet shell while I was shoving things around looking for What Was It?

I went down the rabbit hole poking around in it. Some things still dazzled others made me wonder what I was thinking or smoking that day. 

I won't call it death cleaning. Just the realization that my "somedays" are much more likely to have been promised to other activities or people. Things that will give me a lot more satisfaction than completing another stitched Whatsis that will be lucky if it becomes a potholder or a placemat. 

There was a big stack of those in another tote. Stuff that's mostly finished. As in Now What?

At least a well-made quilt gets to be useful so I'm thinking that if one of those "somedays" turns up a little empty, I'm going to whip all of those little projects together with the sewing machine, break out that double-sized Warm&Natural batt that's been roosting on a high shelf, find or cobble together a backside and create something useful out of all that wishful thinking.

 

So, now there are bits and pieces of my cloth history going back ten, fifteen years in the scrap bin. 

I have a lot of commercial prints that I've hoarded, too, but didn't add them in. Quilt backs eventually, I guess.

Salem and Bailey doing their best to keep me indolent on a rainy day.  Yesterday, I got thirty minutes in the very cold pool doing cleanup work before the skies opened up. I would have stayed, but never with thunder.

And from Colin at the airport last night, this miracle. The weather flexed from nasty to glorious three times yesterday making the day seem eternal. It was disorienting. This sunset promised a beauty today, but I'll wait and see what the weather gods have up their sleeves.  

I could use a Sweetie or two.

First dibs

 

I got mine!

(As she congratulates herself on her restraint)

Now to make room in my threadbox. And pesky? I gave away all those cardboard bobbins. 

Distant thunder just now. With it, the first rain in weeks! The gardenias have been blooming and dying in one day. I have been carrying gallons to the pumpkins out front and the deck plants. Amen.

 I can feel the plants and animals unfurling. Opening. Drinking it in. 

Thunder answers. You're welcome.

Home

 

It got hot here. Not as much humidity as we have near my swamp, but the cicadas told the tale. Jake and Charlie have a great workaround.

That bird was a female Baltimore oriole. 

It's good to be home.

The cloth and thread that I left to dry on Sunday have held the "wet" promise. Vivid and varied. 

Now, sorting, photographing, uploading....all that tedious stuff as I can make time for. Life. 

     Until I can get all of these into the store, if you trust me to choose four thread colors for you, I will add them to a full baggie of scraps for you. Email me for details.

Workspace away

This is my workspace for this week.  It faces west so later in the day, retreat to indoors is necessary. 

There is just enough breeze to evaporate your sweat and cool your skin. The wind chimes on the far end of the porch barely whisper.

It's tranquil here. A distant rooster or cow now and then. Mourning doves and other songbirds, but mostly deep stillness. 

Now I know what the real cure for tinnitus is. Quiet, dressed in quiet, and carrying a bouquet of quiet.

A bird I've never seen, pale orange with dark tail tips just flashed by. No clue and no inclination to find out. He lives around here. I'm only visiting.

Charlie is in a very brief summer school program. I drop him off at nine and retrieve him at noon. Then we hang out. I'm soaking it up because, after this week, I'll have to schedule time around camp to see him.

 

The words are like stitches. One by one, they add up to a sentence, a passage, or a scene. The overall picture is still forming, but the groundwork has been laid. 

Starting from scratch

 

The day rolled up hot and loud shouting, "Don't waste me!"

There were some threads measured, waiting. A few linen garments dismembered earlier. A fat handful of old damask napkins. Shockingly large when I shook out the ironing. A sad khaki hobo bag that I bought a few years ago. A fat hank of 70/30 silk/cotton, all waiting.

The colors? I didn't know what I wanted. I sorted all the dyes into primary groups, turned the labels away from me, and went from there, again holding back the Raven. 

We need rain, but it won't come tonight so I'll be hand rinsing all of this early tomorrow. Then packing for a week away. 

If you've placed a request recently, forgive my poor follow-thru. Life and family had to come first. I will hold your place in line and the store will be replenished for you to take a second look.

The dyedeck gardens have run wild. Sacrifices may have to be made. Why do I keep growing mammoth sunflowers in pots? 

The linen table moppers are going to be fabulous by the end of the season. There will be discharging and soy wax work along the way, otherwise it will all become mud.

I rolled some of the threads into linen bundles to see how wet batching works as opposed to leaving the hanks in the sun to poach fast.

The thread ran out pretty quickly so I  turned to some old-school techniques for the remainder of the cloth. The mason jars were ecstatic.

Buttons will be salvaged. Seams will be picked. I'll have some time on my hands in the upcoming week. Not here, but I love how cloth is so portable.

The neighbor's magnolia trees are in full bloom. The scent stops my train of thought, but it brought a memory. Tomorrow is my wedding anniversary. Jimmy would sit on the couch in the living room where he could see me working on the deck. Sometimes he would step outside and say "What you were grinning over. Which one? Yes!"