Eye light

 

This malaise is just enough to annoy, but I'll make another attempt to get tested later today.

A fresh start for the new year crawled out of the river basket this morning but, to slow me down, I washed everything in the sink. Finger-pressed, they'll be better off for the delay. Me too.

My aged phone is beginning to fail. Pictures have been chancey. If a test turns up positive, it's because I went into the phone place to look into a new one. The same day I yelled at the woman for crowding me at the post office, I only gave the stinkeye from across the store to the putz with his mask under his nose while I waited my turn.

The shit that takes up emotional energy these days...

Christmas 2020

 

2020

 I Remember Everything

John Prine

Alright

I've been down this road before
I remember every tree
Every single blade of grass
Holds a special place for me
And I remember every town
And every hotel room
And every song I ever sang
On a guitar out of tune

I remember everything
Things I can't forget
The way you turned and smiled on me
On the night that we first met
And I remember every night
Your ocean eyes of blue
How I miss you in the morning light
Like roses miss the dew

I've been down this road before
Alone as I can be
Careful not to let my past
Go sneaking up on me
Got no future in my happiness
Though regrets are very few
Sometimes a little tenderness
Was the best that I could do

I remember everything
Things I can't forget
Swimming pools of butterflies
That slipped right through the net
And I remember every night
Your ocean eyes of blue
How I miss you in the morning light
Like roses miss the dew

How I miss you in the morning light
Like roses miss the dew

Source: LyricFind

getting real things done

  Thursday I had errands to do. Banking from the car. Picked my time at the post office to buy some stamps only to be crowded by an idiot who I had to bark at a social distance violator - much to the glee of the mail lady who was only minimally protected from a parade of idiots by her plexiglass shield and cloth mask.

There was a short foray into the phone store to see about replacing my aging LG2. Not for a while. I'm not all that impressed with the latest model. I can wait.

 Time was you didn't think about disguises, armor, or weapons. If I'd pulled up to the drive-thru at the bank like this a year ago, who knows what might have happened.  

Sweetie has commandeered one of the fleece lap robes. Cats know what's right and good.

And for all my making ready? Christmas cards, lap desk, pens, and stamps? I still cannot find the little address book that I've been so holy about cultivating all year. With the state of what I'm seeing on the news of Post Office backlogs, y'all may get cards from me by Easter.

.

I picked Charlie up after school on Friday. They wore their PJs to school and watched "The Polar Express" which is the only Christmas movie I could call a favorite. Pretty steeped in Christmas Magic now, he said, "Nana, I bet I know where in the movie you cry."

I assured him, "every time."

   

At my house I let him pick up gifts and weigh them, but refused to reveal anything. Patience will be rewarded.

He spent the rest of the evening writing and illustrating a chapter book and criticizing (but glued to) an inane cartoon show. 

I drank hot tea and dozed as I could, A middle ear infection had its way with me for a day. Slowly on the mend. We forget that we can still come down with things other than the Big C. But, for all concerned, I'll look into a test on Monday.

A (small) blaze of Glory

I've always wanted a fire pit. This cast iron pot hasn't done anything but smell bad since I burned a pot of chili in it over ten years ago. I'm talking incinerated. The lid was on tight and I thought the burner was off. I chipped the charcoal out of it with a chisel but never could get rid of the smell.

Now, it's serving again. There was an incantation.

I need to get a bag of marshmallows to have on standby if someone calls the cops or fire department. I hear they'll give you a pass if you are cooking and not just burning leaves. 

After working on trucks and cars all weekend, the guys took a minute to go find a Christmas tree. It's just big enough.

I'm likely to be wordless here for a while. Putting them elsewhere. Taking a deep breath along with the rest of the country. Tending hearth and home. Celebrating and sharing as I can. Making plans for the future!

Change, as sure as the sun and the tides.

Glad tidings

 I met a friend for a parking lot picnic yesterday. We need to do this more!

Today there was late lunch with my copirate. We reacquainted ourselves with Sonic who now has an Espresso shake that's a meal unto itself.

Just in. SCOTUS has told Texas, Trump and the rest of the seditious slime that it's all over but the censures, impeachments, indictments, and incarcerations.

First christmas gift and first Christmas card. I'd better get with the program!

All Unknowing

These pieces, this one, in particular, make me so happy.

The orbs have been a feature of my work for so long and I've never really examined what that's about. Looking into this series from 2009, they are undoubtedly beings acting in concert. Reacting. Living things. 

Firefles hypnotize me.

Can you tell from these detail shots that it feels like concrete?

Deadlines

 "Well those drifter's days are past me now

I've got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out.." Bob Seeger

Make lists. Lose them. Accomplish one thing in a day and think you are the Shit Queen of Turd Mountain. Don't go downstairs, the kitchen will make you want to cut your throat except who'll have to clean that mess up?

I lost my Zoom virginty earlier this week and wasted a day patting myself on the back over that. Don't get me wrong, it was great fun and will be very useful going forward. Thank you, Dee for helping me thought the fidgets of the technology. And thank you, Ed.Grace for putting my feet back into the writing fire.

Over a year ago, I was first on the scene of a car accident. Talked with one of the drivers and a witness. Gave contact info. Wednesday I was scheduled to appear in court via Zoom to testify. I got dressed. Made self presentable. The Lawyers called it off. It's a wonder any thing gets through our court system. I have nothing to add to this case. I did not see it happen. Nobody seems to care. Screw the lawyers.

 I had a great visit with writer friends. Things are falling (being dragged) into place regarding getting my book out into the world. More steps to take. And before any of this, la familia. 

The river basket is in the closet. Out of sight but not out of mind. I'm in this chair right now wishing for something to hold that requires nothing more than to choose a color, thread the needle and go.

 Not for few more weeks. Deadlines and committments....

bathtub gin

 

This is the trial run of  Bathtub Gin Dirty Threads. Another learning experience underway.

Turns out that this herb drying rack did not go to waste after all, but the poor little things may freeze before they dry! 

I'm seeing a weakness in the colors that I'm sure has to do with the (indoor) temps. I may have to set that gin on fire to get the hot colors I like. There's always overdyeing.

I've had this river grass basket since 2008 and none of the cats have ever expressed any interest in it. I always assumed it had some kind of odor that put them off. This morning Sweetie climbed in, dug around a little, then nested. I couldn't bear to chase her off the scraps and just left her in the weak sunshine. True mixed media. 

She turned eleven sometime in April. We both get around with the same "old lady with arthritis" moves. Sometimes I think she's mocking me. 

I spent too much time (and money) online this weekend getting Christmas shopping done. One of my nephews is a budding artist and I want to support that. The trouble was I kept seeing stuff I wanted for myself. Jerry's Artarama has my number. 

I started hunting around for things and opened this drawer for the first time in a decade. Tomorrow, I'll sit with it all and see what's still good and what goes in the trash.

This one called itself done this morning and will get mounted on canvas soon. Still waiting for a name to be revealed.

Thanksgiving 2020

 

While waiting for an apple pie to bake, I soaked up some fine music and experimented with new ways to cover ground with the dirty threads. Finishing it just now while listening to Charlie talk himself to sleep was the perfect bookend to my day. 

A fine traditional meal with our small family circle. Plates packed and dropped off for those working double shifts or living alone. 

Then sharing a first look at an older movie with Charlie who gave it 10 stars. "Chicken Run" has my thumbs up too.

It was dark by the time we brought Colin his dinner. An idling freight train was blocking a gated crossing. Police vehicles strobing silently on both sides. We circled around for a better view of the airfield, tiny blue lights stretched into the distance. Then we made our way through town. Every other crape myrtle swathed in Christmas lights. Charlie had a good view from his booster seat in the rear of my coupe, the seat he's about to outgrow. He went quiet.

"I feel like I could cry."

I checked him in the rearview. "What's making you sad?"

"Nothing. The night is just so beautiful."

I'm so humbled and grateful to spend time with this child.

a working studio. finally.

 There is a real possibility that I will be joining the ranks of the unemployed in the near future. Having more time for family, writing and art make that idea more appealing as the days pass. 

This will be the next piece I mount to a canvas.  Last night I shopped online for canvases and other supplies I'll need. Powers, Stay My Hand! I almost bought a set of acrylic paints! 

All these not-quite-finished pieces are finally going to get going to market and I don't have time to dick around with paint just yet.

The next chance I get, I'm going to Goodwill to see what kind of couch art they have on hand. I can gesso over anything if the structure and surface are worthy.

I'm running out of a few thread colors so Necessity remains the Mother of Invention. I've come up with a scheme for the Winter Indoor edition of Dirty Threads. 

You've heard of bathtub gin, right? 

The batches will be a lot smaller, but I won't be at the whim of the weather. I still have to figure out how to ship greywater outside to a dry well rather than run it all through my septic tank. This should be interesting.

cat door flap

The rubber flap on the cat door is old and leaks cold air. For years there was a piece of an old quilted experiment stapled over the outside. It was crusty and ragged so I pulled it down and tossed it out back in the spring. A replacement was necessary.

On a high shelf in the closet I found a large unfinshed quilt. Large. Lots of cloth wasted.  I cut a two-foot square from the least obnoxious corner, hemmed the raw edge on the machine and called it done. 

Then I spent the rest of the morning taking what was left apart. Keeping the best of it.

This floating under more than over the others, cloth so soft, it feels like skin.

This a piece of the softest damask. It was part of a small tablecloth. To be whisked out of the Maitre'd's jacket pocket to freshen a cocktail table with a flick of his wrist. The yellow freckly places stayed under soywax during a ill-advised overdye. 

There were also places where I used softscrub to discharge some of the color. Much of this after the design was stitched down to the backing. The very bad design could not offset the colors that I must have been besotted with. It was ugly and I had no qualms about chopping it up.

Three types of cloth so incongruent. The base, a griege cloth. Some mongrel cotton/poly blend by the way it refused the dye. The teal? An IKEA dishtowel. 

 

Memorial memory

 Jim's been gone seven years now. We used to sit together and watch TV. He watched. I stitched.

As I'm studying this one now, I remembered him asking, "What are these evil little fuckers up to?" 

There was something sinister going on but I didn't know it. Just a tone that came through. A mood.

I almost chucked this one because I didn't like the way the random seed stitches looked, but I was too lazy to pick them all away. 

Then I sacrificed it to the Fiber Mummy experiment. Given that ten years have passed and it's still pristine, I'd say the experiment was a success.

The plan is to mount some of the ever-growing pile of small, stitched pieces on canvas using the same technique. 

The intention, of course, to take them from bits of fancy work to Art, more consumable by the masses.

Jim would be out looking for canvases for me or building the odd sizes I needed.

He always knew my moods even when I didn't. I will always miss him.

The Red

 

What did I know of this Red thread? Nothing. All I knew was that when I got him off the bus yesterday it was so warm we left without any kind of jacket. This morning for the ride home, I dug this shirt out of my closet. How old? The badges are from Jake's cub scout days. I was a den mom for a season. Jim did the overnight camping thing. I was happy when he quit.

It's a really cozy fleecy stuff. I might have worn it once. If I chop off half the sleeves, it will make him a nice bathrobe.

I don't wear red. Some hot pinks and rust once in a great while, but red? Nope.

I use it very sparingly in my work.

I think I OD'ed on hot colors in 2007. Every time I take this one out and unroll it, I'm shocked.

                                                                            "Limbo"   38" x 68"     2007  

diversions

words can wait.

Since I made this post, Georgia has gone blue and there has been a recount, by hand.

Now to get Warnock and Ossoff elected to those senate seats.

While I sat in the sewing chair, Baily jumped up on the window sill that faces the driveway. The screen popped out and he fell two stories. 

By the time I got down the front door, he was strolling up the path, unharmed. He allowed himself to be examined and then went about his business. My heart rate took a lot longer to come down than he did.

 Worked while I waited for Charlie's bus.

fresh starts

Still taking it all in. 

There is a poisonous snake in Our House, the Whitehouse.

I have a high level of concern about the fact that the Shitweasel refuses to concede. He continues to infect his base with his delusions. Caravans of trucks with loser/traitor banners roam the Georgia highways. His enablers in the GOP seem to be out to lunch. Even members of his family have tried to get him to see reason.

Is he stealing the silverware? Salting the lawn? Trailing slime over the furnishings? 

I want that fence taken down as soon as possible.

On balance (I am a Libra) Biden's team is already attending to the most important concerns of the nation. All will benefit. There was no gunfire in my neighborhood. No celebrations.

Stacy Abrams' Fair Fight is working to make sure our two senates seats are blue, representing the true will of the people.

Another Monday is well under way.

Fuckin' A!

 

Blue Wave 2020. I put the stitched nameplate in the mail on Thursday without even taking a picture of it.  Have fun with it, Liz.

the one

 

me and Nelly, 1951 

I'm trying to put my writing boots on the ground, but circumstances swirl and conspire against it.

I have to "go to" the time and place I'm writing about and it takes full focus. Prolonged concentration. 

Has anyone got a couple gallons of that to spare? Didn't think so.

At this moment, 99% of the ballots in GA have been counted. 49.2% for Biden and 49.6% for the incumbent. It probably won't be Georgia that decides the outcome of the election. But to think it might, by such a slim margin.

I requested an absentee ballot partly due to COVID concerns, but mostly because I wanted to hurry up and have my say. Vote as early as I could. I filled it out and took it to voter registration way back in the middle of October. Dropped it into the formidable-looking hopper outside while people cued up outside on the first days of early voting. My county did the blue team proud. 58%.

Thinking about it now, my ballot could have been one of the last ones counted, buried at the bottom of the dropbox the way it was. 

My thoughts are about how to broach the "Why..." conversations with people that matter to me. 

How do we move forward because there is no going back, the way back being guarded by that miserable 800 lb. gorilla who must surely be sick of that job by now. Aching to retire. Like me.

take comfort where you can

The perks of being the creator? You get first dibs!  I got mine. These are two views of the same scarf. They are like kaleidoscopes that warm to your touch when you wrap one around your neck.

 There are only a few left. I am still trying to figure out how to make these indoors.