And happy New Year

 

I cling to the sweet and safe while the social pot boils. 

I had another visit with Mom who reminded me, platinum white claw held high, "This too shall pass."

And I remembered the day that she added, "whatever two they are bitching about."

Merry Christmas ....

....where we did NOT die in a conflagration!

Bright, you say?

Colin put two strings of enormous outdoor Christmas lights on it. The kind they used to put up outside of bars. He loves vintage. 

Lovely. I was distracted and still coming down from a panic/anxiety attack (wtf?) over not being able to locate the box with all the heirloom ornaments in it. Is this what I have to look forward to as I slip the odd cog now and then? 

Chrift...I may take up drinking for real.

Back to the tree. Blazingly bright. Glorious!!

I thought about it a bit, then went downstairs and wrapped my hand around one of the bulbs. It was HOT. With almost no discussion (although he was highly peeved) he undressed the tree and removed the danger. 

I slept SO well. And the dreams!
 

Two of my favorites: Madame Rat by Dee Mallon is my topper. She's holding a paper and foil angel made by my Grandmother. She needs some attention before I put her away this year. 

And the crown on my Christmas, Jake and Missy brought Charlie here later in the day to stay over until Friday. We will keep each other busy.

The fun in function

Came a long way to get derailed. 

Machine pieced, front and back and edges with monkey tongues. I had a lot of them just hanging around from some long ago project. 

Sandwich making - getting the layers together evenly - took a very long evening. 

This morning I sat there looking at the Janome for ten minutes trying to remember the setup for free-motion. 

                        Tip~Life is short, ask for help~

 And there it was, under the front edge of the table, a hole that Jim drilled through the wood frame giving me access to the sliding mechanism that controls the feed dog. He sanded the edges of the hole so I wouldn't get splinters, bless him.

The "clunk" of the shift was so familiar. Did I have a free-motion foot? No. Hmm. Did it really matter? Tinker here, tinker there. Shit was not happening. 

Oh well, fall back to straight topstitching. Reset. And fail. Feed dogs would not re-engage. All indicators point to an overdue trip for service/repair.

Let's see how hand quilting feels. Two+ layers of commercial print cotton and a quarter inch of Warm&Natural cotton batting? The best I could manage was about five brutal stitches to the inch and I have tough hands. Hand quilting is out of the question.

Tomorrow, I'll saddle up the 99K and see if I can get this project off the deck. I have faith in Singer. 

 

The turn

This one is all mine.

Have you ever dropped into a curve on the highway faster than safe?

 Maybe you were taking in the view or your mindscape had your attention and, in a split second, you had to react to avert disaster. 

Or not.

Ten and two. Steady. Hold Steady. 

No braking. 

Power through it, just enough. 

You made it.

Keep rolling 

 

Fail, give or take

 

A few minutes ago I spent an hour ironing this tablecloth. The intention was to build a winter robe. Long ago I learned the hard way that old damask can harbor weak places that don't bode well for garment making. 

I measured, made my mark, and a small cut in preparation for a big rip across the width. 

In the middle of the tear, that straight line took off in opposing diagonal directions like a bolt of lightning. 

Failed the garment test.

The only way to describe the color that flashes across this cloth is Opalescent.

Opal is my birthstone but I've never had one for very long because they are so fragile. So happy birthday to the stitching world, this opal cloth is now stirred into the scrap bin. 

And Liz ! Now I know where I got the curl I put in so many of the hearts.