Tuesdays with Charlie

Due to everyone's work schedule, each morning I get Charlie up, fed, dressed and drive him to school. Our routine is tight, a comfort to him and a blessing for me. On Tuesdays, I go back and pick him up in the afternoon.

He's learning that having a great day at school is happy business.  It was in the mid 50's this afternoon and we pretended it was summer with a picnic and stitching in the park. A gem of a day.

Hedonism

 I was supposed to be doing Christmas cards and getting packages ready to go. Things got out of hand. Once Bruce hit the stage I was done.

This show was so excellent. I had closed captions on out of habit. The lyrics to some songs came as a great treat. Revelations!

some eye candy

The mood at the moment. I know where I am. The way is only slightly impeded. I just don't feel like struggling at the moment. Resting. Waiting. The Tarot card would be the Hanged Man.

I was rummaging in old image files for inspiration. Instead, I got this clear, strong message. No stitching for the sake of doing it. 

Intent, purpose, is necessary for the form, the results, to matter. There needs to be a course to get out of the harbor, only then can a sailor wander.

More images from a lost archive. Date approximate 1930. My aunts Phyllis, Vera and my father, Charlie. The horse is either Tom or Jerry. My grandfather plowed snow from the streets of North Castle, NY with his team. Cut the grass along the roadsides by hand with a scythe. He taught me how to sharpen it before I was big enough to hold it properly. 

.

I'm no interior decorator, but this piece - it's colors and vagueness - has captivated me.

People have decorated their whole houses around less, I'll bet.

Come spring, these will be the colors for my house.

another

this is another one. cloths popped up that wanted to play but the other one was already busy.

I'm still thinking about what words I want to use. that happens with another part of my brain that needs some rest right now.

too fussy. too neat

Things are too tidy. I need to loosen up. I'm thinking there might be text. Something raucous, bawdy. Sprawly.

And today, this happened. We have been without a decent TV for some time. Set this one up right in front of the fireplace that never gets used.

I really, really want to see Bruce Springsteen on Netflix next week. For now, this video of a Yule log will warm us.

actual stitching!

It's nice to fool with my own Dirty Thread. As you can see, I've kept some of the tastier ones for myself.

This one seems a perfect fit for this project. But what did I say about going slow?  After the first length was used up, I got hasty and tried to use all six ply + two strands of bright blue rayon (wayward shit on a good day). Snag city, each stitch a pain in the ass.

So back to splitting the six and doubling each half, adding in whatever silly business I can cram through the needle's eye as the mood moves me.

and don't forget a slash of Thread Magic. Strange and wonderful stuff.

Better

 I turned off that part of the brain that plans, plots, nags, and worries. Took my medicine and stayed in bed. Mostly. The cold realized that I was an inhospitable host, packed his shit and left.

while I was laying around trying to ignore the cobwebs hanging everywhere, I pulled some cloth and thread from the river basket.

After a few false starts, I think I have something that speaks to me. Time will tell.

It's been a long time since I've built thread. Slowly is it the key. It didn't show up in this picture but there's a gold metallic in the mix to keep me in line.

Cold comfort

In bed with a cold. Just examining things.

What sucks about working from home is, if you can't drag yourself to the chair and log in to the system, you should be in the hospital.

I'm not thatsick . It's only a cold, so come 3:30, I'll take another round of Alka Seltzer for colds and be in that cottony place for a few hours.

Right now, feeling the comfort of the familiar. Cloth, thread, and Meet Joe Black on TV.

the box fort

 

I think his Dad just blew Christmas out of the water with this one. When I got there this morning at 6:30, he was inside working on the walls with crayon. Happily, he did not sleep there.

turning

It never fails.

I always opt for the easy way out.
The cloth.

I'm supposed to be doing a lot of other things.

black friday

Nope. Can't go there. Haven't in years, but I have shopped online when there was something artisan made that can't be found elsewhere.

Any Dirty Threads or Fat Baggies ordered by Sunday will get shipped Monday morning.

I honestly wish there was a living in make blog banners!

Thanksgiving...

...was very quiet and low key this year. Colin and I both had to work so we had to pass on an invitation to join the family at the mountain house.  Since there was no school this week, Charlie and I were partners in crime for two whole days and a sleepover.  It was sunny out so we spent a good time in the park working off some junk food.





He was great company. Taking care of a four-year-old requires that you stay the hell out of your own head; good for me this melancholy time of the year.

I got a turkey meal cooked after he went home and we'll eat off that sucker until the weekend. Maybe.
























After I got all the dishes done this morning, there was time to make that pie which turned out dangerously delicious.

Since it was just me eating in front of the TV, I forgot the Tablecloth.

Forever ago, when I was cleaning houses for people,  a lady gave me this kit. A huge linen tablecloth, printed with this design of flowers, leaves, and butterflies.  And, a ton of ecru embroidery thread which I promptly threw out. Oh well. The x's were well entrenched by then so they stayed.

There were some instructions. Threw those out too. I think I was hoping the blue stamped design would wash out. It didn't so I dipped into my own embroidery threads and just went wild. After some time I discovered that those tiny x's were places that I was supposed to have snipped out. This was a cut-work kit from Macy's, circa the late 50s.

And, of course, my own personal touches were added as life moved us along.

Picked the last of these today. We are going to have a freeze tonight.

I keep looking around this house, this life and wondering what I'd grab if I had to go with just a moment's notice. It's a terrifying prospect that so many are contending with.

These are inescapably sad days, this piece of November. The days when we sat by Jimmy's bedside and he slipped away from us a little at a time. Five years, five minutes. My heart can't tell the difference.

It's good that my day-to-day is consumed, starting at 5 in the morning. Getting Charlie off to school is most often the high point. He's such a piece of wonderful work that I'm grateful for. From there I go to the library for a few hours of concentrated writing. More about that here.

I still pick up the cloth from time to time. Turn it this way and that. Dream about what goes where, but the "why" of it eludes me. I took a load of scraps made cloth and from the cloth a very serviceable gown. mumu. schmata. You'll call it different things depending. A floor length garment that you probably shouldn't wear in public. No pictures. Pure comfort.

My back seat driver:

and me, half asleep in the car, waiting for the library to open.