not your usual tuesday

took some time in the AC to recover from a dye frenzy out in the blazin'.  The 'feels like' index said 101. Every bit of it.

Kept this one for myself, I'm sure there will be more when I get them in the morning light.





Later, there was a quick visit from someone with a big surprise for me.

Eclipse

We went to the park early to be sure that Charlie would expend enough energy making nap time easier. The heat and humidity almost did me in and I was mostly just watching. There was no one else at the park which made leaving early a little more agreeable.

The lunch menu discussion has turned into a ritual of hilarity:
me: Shall we have chicken livers?
C: NOOOO!! the giggling begins,
me: clam eyeballs?
C: Nooooo! more giggling.
me:  Pony toenails?

by this time he can hardly answer for giggling.  We picked up the standard chicken fingers, sun chips, lemonade and one petit four, and made it back to the house in time for a TV picnic with Curious George. He was sound asleep by 1:30.



I waited until the sun and moon were really getting it on before stepping outside to see what I shouldn't see. Used my camera to sneak an inept peek.
More interesting was the change of light over everything else. Even at only 97%, it was eerie. disorienting. I felt short of breath or that the air didn't have enough oxygen in it.

Went back inside to a very dark apartment and slept for a few minutes until Charlie climbed up onto the couch with me to continue our adventure together.

early results

One of these days I'll remember to open the screen before I take pictures, but you can tell what this special Eclipse edition of Dirty Threads is going to be like. There are 60ish, all told, plus another dozen or so of the last round. Once they are are ready to go, I'll put them in the store.

Now, to clean up after that mess and get some very special linen down for a round of the same treatment if the heat doesn't get me. There will be texture galore!

Something special

I'm prepping a large batch (I lost count!) of a special edition of dirty threads and hand dyed scraps. I'm dyeing all of it today and leaving everything out to cure under the solar eclipse, primarily because it's a Charlie Monday tomorrow and I can't be in two places at once.

Same prices, same stuff with a little twist. I'm throwing back to a little sugar dyeing. Curious? It's no big thing.

Again, expediency rules the day. I used up all the salt in the pantry and with the pending lunacy of tomorrow, I'm pretty sure the grocery stores today will be as if there was a pending winter snow storm. In Georgia, people lose their minds and hit the stores foaming at the mouth. Whatever is in the fridge will have to do.

If you want to reserve any, email me and let me know - how many, color range. If I can accommodate, you know I will. I should have these posted on Thursday.

Home....

Sunday evening actually.
Lessons learned.

I intended on some stitching, some reading, and writing.

NOT when you are visiting family and friends. It was all about the people and some places with no time for my agenda. That's more than OK, but I should have known. Driving instead of flying filled me with hubris. Half the stuff I hauled never saw the light of day in New England.

Away cont.

sisters

Away

Just love

Charlie's third birthday was yesterday.

I spent the day before with him but didn't say much about the special day pending.  I think too much anticipation for a toddler can be like a hard dose of sugar.

Taking some time to visit distant family and I'm already missing him.



I'll be traveling for a while. As of Friday, 8/4 the shop will be closed until I get back. 

details

Two cast away garments, a blouse and a vest, both linen, have been reborn.

Gifts that will keep on giving.

Alas, linen has to be ironed.

dirty thread updated

here they are


Dyeing thread this way is much like glazing pottery - you just won't know what color you are going to get until the very end of the process.

I'm going to take some time and work with the stuff...see what comes of it.

mending

I like mending. Taking something that's been used hard out of love or utility, and bringing it back to life and usefulness with a cloth, stitch and some more love.  This was my Mom's little "go bag".

She carried it slung from her wheelchair for the longest time. It was stuffed with tissues, crackers, coins, pens, lunch leftovers sometimes. It would get pretty nasty when she forgot about the food that she'd squirreled away, so it's had its share of machine washings and every zipper still works. Credit to Vera Bradley for a well-made product. I've been needing something to hold just wallet, keys and phone. This will be perfect. Again.

My head is also mending today. two consecutive evenings with a migraine, courtesy of the toppings on the pizza we had for dinner (and leftover for breakfast) Wednesday and Thursday. Live and keep learning.

Invited back

I've been away from the cloth for a time now. While duty calls me back, it's the promise of something wonderful that will get me there.

I was digging through the tubs of cloth when these fabrics made themselves known to me because I'm still convinced that my missing notebook in here somewhere.

Dark and exciting for a baby blanket, don't you think? It could be the flip side of something light and fanciful. As much as I love the spots on the avocado field, I can't use it because they were discharged and won't stand up to a lot of laundering. I have mending to do, a slew of buttons to replace. All homey stuff that matters to someone.

And for fun, these. Making them is like eating potato chips. Why stop at one?

seeing clearly

I've been lazy, taking "quick and dirty" shots with my cell phone. I'd forgotten how good digital photography can be. These are from the storm series. All are vintage hankies, doilies or cocktail napkins...I guess. Now, they are stars in their own right. There will be dirty threads in the same(ish) colorways, too.  I left the pictures large so you can dig in for the wonder.

the storm that didn't arrive

All morning it looked like the sky would break open. Hot, thickly humid. There was no going outside for anything. I've been plagued by chaos lately, internal and external, so I did what was at hand - a long overdue purge and cleanup in the studio. Even half-finished, I feel a lot better.

During the rout of un-named boxes of unknown crap, I found a collection of hankies and other tiny, hand embellished things from an era before Kleenex. Into the pre-dye secret sauce, they went. I had a full set of threads prepped and ready for color.

An hour outside on the deck and the additional secret ingredient was my sweat. Everything is in the washing machine right now. If the finished products don't hold up to these wet shots, I'll delete them...the heartbreak of wet photography is real.

And Joanne...look at that little linen blouse. I could kill the woman for being so tiny!

down on the farm

That is Charlie's grampa, Papa Doc. He does blacksmithing demonstrations at various venues including nearby McDaniel farm park. We visited with him a bit then toured the park on a hayride and spent time at an amazing new playground. Thank the weather gods for cloud cover.

The parks department has restored and maintained the farmhouse and outbuildings as a typical 1930's working farm. There was a table set up where someone would be giving a talk and demonstration about cotton. No one was around to answer our silly questions as it was early.

That shred of raw cotton in the right foreground got picked up by inquisitive fingers and dropped on the ground, from there to my pocket.

Once I got home, I examined the bit of fluff. I picked out all the bits of dry leaves. pesky business. There was almost a dozen of those little hard beans stuck in the fiber. I'm assuming they are cotton seeds and I'm going to see what I can find out about growing them.

Maybe I will spin the cotton into thread too. Obsessive. I know. There will be dye.

creature comforts

Please tell me I saw this post when it was new and made all the proper, civilized responses. I love what Ann does with my cloth.

I rewashed all the waiters this morning. Sweetie had been nesting in them with her "friends". Said friends are being evicted in a mighty battle. Anyone with pets knows what the hell I'm talking about. Clean cloth stowed tightly in the closet until it's time for more dyes.

Studio archaeology

Small scrap from the tubs. Color by Sharpie & alcohol.

Remains of the day

This is what's left of round three. I'm going to have to make this a semi-monthly thing. Have more on hand when I put them up for sale. This is all that's left of round 3.

From round 2, every wish granted, every order shipped. Most have landed.

I need to get back to the story - there is no such thing as writer's block in this house. Not permitted.

making

I took a few minutes in the bright first light of the studio to wind-off and prep the latest batch of Dirty Threads. I had my doubts about this latest group right up until the wind-off, but they are beauties. A new twist in technique has brought more depth and consistency. With dyeing, you just can't tell about colors until things are completely dry. You think I would have learned that by now.

I like to do this hand work while I'm listening to music, or NPR or a book on CD, just like people who are actively creating - stitching, knitting, crocheting - the hands are up to one thing while the mind is elsewhere.

My political escapism continues. I rewatched the first two episodes of  "John Adams" last night. This time I was paying extra attention to the so very much that went unsaid by his wife, Abigail - so amazingly portrayed by Laura Linney - Her hands were busy doing the thousands of things that home and children required in colonial times and yet her thinking was every bit as sharp and focused on the problems of the birthing of our country as were those of her statesman husband. I'd like to read more about both of them.

This morning, I left the external input off because I've been questioning a lot of things lately and needed time to listen for and process any answers. Handling/creating raw materials frees up that space in my head where the dialogue happens. I even took notes.

Those answers?
There is great value in all levels of making, especially when it comes to textiles.

Cloth and all that attends it is so basic to the human condition. We spin, we weave, we protect and adorn ourselves.

I'm struggling to find as much meaning in wordsmithing as there was in making blankets for warmth. The great Art/Craft divide remains. You can write to entertain or titillate. You can write to some higher meaning. Straddling the divide is trixie.

dirty thread dancing

I fooled with some of the Dirty Threads last night. Reading glasses would have been good, but they were off somewhere wandering around with the other lost stuff, so I faked it a bit.
No bloodstains, so it's all good.


Just posted a new batch. Looking forward to doing so more vivid colors when the sun comes back out.