Thursday, September 05, 2019
no Dorian
Don't be fooled. That Caribbean tinge means I didn't spend enough time working the long-handled scrubber around the floor today. The later into the season, the more work, but I'll take every day Summer has left for me.
I've been sleeping badly since coming home. Disjointed, post-apocalyptic dreams that never go anywhere but in anxious circles.
Thinking too much about the wrong
things. Have some images instead.
Tuesday, September 03, 2019
and back
It was a great trip, fun and relaxing because my people all went above and beyond for my comfort and safety.
But it's always good to get home. Back to the things I like doing, the stuff that needs doing. I didn't get much stitching done as I'm getting pretty fussy about lighting and, as bright as it was at the beach, it was really too damn hot! The TSA didn't nab my scissors, so, it's all good.
I cleaned up the work table and finally am releasing some of the last dyed threads into the wild. My personal stash is overflowing and if I look at these one more time....
The quest was for greens. A lot of gold crept in. The Rubies and the Amethysts are too dark with little variation, but it's not like I'm going to throw them away. There are a lot of plain crazy players too. You can see them all here.
Monday, September 02, 2019
away
the Casino Girls terrorizing Foxwoods. Except for feeding ourselves so generously, we (for the most part) broke even.
I don't know where my beach pictures evaporated to, but the day was perfect.
It was a treat to spend a little time with the nephews that I don't often get to see.
Two charming and delightful small humans.
Every room in the house has art or quilts I've made. This was my mother's lap quilt in the nursing home. She dragged it around with her everywhere. I slept under it for a few nights.
Thursday, August 29, 2019
Monday, August 26, 2019
homefires
Someone is wise to the fact that I'm heading out of town. Right after this, I had to pull her out of my half-packed suitcase.
She's going to need some extra coddling while I'm away.
Saturday, August 24, 2019
Paying attention
I tried.
It's 5:00pm Sunday. Sad to say, it's still up there.
Guess he decided he didn't need to accessorize.
PS...Craigslist is dead. Long live Facebook Marketplace. The same day as I decided the cap would be headed for the dump, I listed it on FB marketplace. In an hour I had six people interested. Inside another, two nice men with a small truck came, fitted it to said truck and spirited it away to a life of continued service. I'm so happy. They even scrawled a thankyou on the FREE sign.
Friday, August 23, 2019
Sun chasing
The strong light sifts through the limbs and leaves of the water oak in fits and starts forcing me to pay attention.
Thursday, August 22, 2019
lost treasures
Tuesday, August 20, 2019
secret messages
"He watched as she stalked a wide, slow circle that took her all the way around the car. She was wearing something short and black. Magic again? Without taking his eyes off her, he took off his St. Christopher and hung it from the rearview. Gripping the steering wheel, he leaned forward, mesmerized.
She stopped a few paces in front of the car. Her hands reached for the stars, then she crouched low and brushed the wet grass with her fingertips. No candles, no incense. Then she spoke into the darkness like it was listening.
Hear me sisters, Fire, Wind, Water and Earth, in all your names and guises.
Light the watchtowers for us. Hold back the night.
I ask cover from all quarters.
Bless us this circle and we within."
He’d covered the cracked plastic upholstery with a plaid flannel blanket. Like a bird on a wire, she perched on the edge of the seat. He reached under the dash, a motor whirred, and the patched convertible top lifted slowly, folding back on itself.
“You got it fixed!” The sky was clear, full of stars, and cooler, less humid air washed over them. They were in some kind of clearing; the grass manicured. “Where are we?”
“A golf course.” Jack looked around, pleased with his choice. “Listen. When I called before, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. To talk, you know?”
He was about to light a joint, but she took it from him and tucked it into the ashtray, then put her fingertips on his lips. She couldn’t say ‘fuck’ and wouldn’t say ‘make love’. He sucked her fingers into his mouth, then they stripped each other out of their clothes. The confines of the front seat of the Skylark was nothing to two people hell-bent on taking up the same space.
"Prophets Tango" by Deborah Lacativa 2021
Sunday, August 18, 2019
embarrassment of riches
I'm going to be putting these up in sets of four and six. Curating is the fun part. I'll post them to the Dirty Threads page as time permits.
If you have any colorway requests, email me.
Now all I have to do is keep my hand out of the candy jar.