Halloween 2019

I drove to the town park to try and stretch everything a little. It was very dark, cloudy, trees jostling one another. Very Halloween weather. Humid.

Not fifty yards down the trail rain started to patter. I snatched these up from the path and hobbled back to the car just before the weather got serious.

My project is well underway. Some pruning, polishing and practicing still to come.

I had the AC on around lunch because it was so muggy. Now it's in the 40's. Colin helped me bring all the plants in from the deck. They are probably full of hitchhikers so I will sleep with the sheet pulled over my head tonight.

The house is darkened. It's just me and the cat. Happy Halloween. 

Sweet Sunday

I had company that brought breakfast! We listened to an old radio program. Jazz even. He built some Lego things, we laughed and talked while his Dad worked on his truck out in the driveway.

A good morning given that I've felt like homemade shit all week. The dry cough and the wheezy noises culminated in a night of fever. All of that resolved except the voice. It won't hurt to keep my mouth shut for twenty-four hours. They'll manage without me at work tonight.













It was so gorgeous out today. I spent the afternoon repotting some plants on the deck. That's Louie in the foreground and his parents right behind him. I'm going to need a little dolly for that one.

coming at it sideways

I'm supposed to be doing something else. Doing one thing while thinking about another seems to be my way. This morning, some marketing, mostly because I've been fidgety and things are piling up around here.

I've never liked the word "reticule". As I suspected it had been sometimes perverted to "ridicule" as if the things we carried couldn't possibly be of any importance. In opposition to that notion, I've decided to call these "Take Me!"

 Take Me #1 and Take Me #2 are available.  Each is crocheted from soft cotton yarn, the same that I've been using to make cusspots for years. I just like the way it handles, turns out and even dyes. (more on that soon).

These are stuffed with cloth and thread. Add your own needles and snips. Sometimes, that's all you need.

Better pictures when the sun comes around.

home

rainy day roses

Some of the grocery store rescue roses were a bit ripe. I had to assure Sweetie that it was not her fault.

oatmeal cooties

Cleaning out old stuff from the pantry, I found an ancient box of oatmeal that had a lovely colony of cooties living in it. Do you know anyone else who gets excited over buggy oatmeal? I didn't think so.

A large seven-gore skirt and a short sleeve blouse, both white linen, were just waiting in the wings for such an opportunity. I'll see how they look as garments before dismembering them. One of my favorite cotton shirts was born this way.

~70~

I was up early yesterday. It was a beautiful day, everything outside cleaned and refreshed after a day-long rain. I sat in the Birthday Chair. From here, I looked out on the crape myrtle grove he planted for me. Looked at the table he made for me and the window he put in to give me the northern light I wanted.

My habit is to hook my phone up to a little wireless speaker and play music while I work. There are over a thousand songs that the phone shuffles through randomly. Somehow, years ago, all our songs got put into this one place so not everything is to my taste.

The first thing that came up was something loud and rowdy. Linkin Park - I hit the arrow to advance to the next song. It was Jim's voice, saved from his last phone, "This is Jim. Please leave a message." Maybe ten seconds long? I thought the file had been lost. I was shocked, pleased and charmed all at once.
The next song came up automatically. Piano Concerto 2 by Rachmaninoff from the end credit of the film "Hereafter".
I could hear him in my heart, Happy Birthday, Babe.

I sat with those thoughts and threaded a few needles while I listened. My plan was to finish a few things before going out. I'm having second thoughts about that top line.

Then, we met for lunch and laughter. It was a wonderful day. Pizza on the patio with Jake and Charlie, some time at the park. Then later, Chinese with Colin and Sweetie.

I am seventy and want very much to see eighty.

the starting place

We all seem to have one. All the tasty bits squirreled away. The little toolbox with thread, wax, needles, and scissors.

Everything I need it in it.
Down in the bottom, paper and pencil.



and music to stitch by (if blogger will allow)

The Boys of Summer

I'm still in a small shock over how the season ended for our Braves. This is what I'll remember: the exuberance of giving it all you've got.

And of course My boys of summer roll on.

small lots

Hmm, it looks like the Snappy Naming division of this enterprise is on vacation.

It also looks like batching is the way to go if I'm going to work inside all winter.

Just two colors with a little bit of crossover happening. Within the groups, there is almost no variation.

They am what they am.

Company

We are sitting in the grocery store parking lot. Sun warm, breezes cool. Soft music. Let the rest stretch on a little longer.

first day of fall

The first gray day in ages lent itself to indoor stuff. The studio even got (mostly) cleaned. Seeing half the work table, all of the birthday chair and 95% of the carpet...that's lots. Other things got done.

Still up there in my banner,  Revisions has a sleeve and will probably be on a plane in a few days.

My sampler finally became a proper pillow. I found one of the

mates to the cotton dinner napkin I worked it on. Nicely dyed, of course. I think there were originally six of these and I need to track the rest down (somewhere in the cloth closet) they are a strong, dense woven cotton. Soft, forgiving, yet strong and serviceable. I was just telling someone that embroidering text requires unwavering focus, at least for me. There is no walking and chewing gum if you want to come anywhere close to Heather Cameron's excellence.

you can even see my 'maker's mark' discharged on the backside of the pillow.
The cloth has a wonderful hand, grainy. Some kind of warm, old skin, tough, durable and loving.

I also did a small batch of dyed thread on the kitchen table. I really thought the "B" on the container was for brown. I needed blue too. Sone of these will be over on Dirty Threads after I make my stash bigger.

If you ordered over the weekend, your thread will be on a plane by tonight. Unless the USPS has returned to camels and ponies.

summer's end

We went out early this morning to see where the birds are hiding. There's a big clay dish full of water up there in the grove for them.

Normally the front yard is full of birds busy snatching breakfast out of the grass. For many days there have been none. Creepy scary none. After so long without rain, the ground is hard as a rock.

But there were birds. All we had to do was look up. The canopy was alive with them.

After we went inside I saw a few of them taking a bath in the drinking water. Salut!

It's gone from the mid-nineties to mid-sixties overnight. Rain soon we all hope.

the Mabons get blessed

A change-up

This day turned out differently than planned. Charlie caught a bad nugget or fry and needed a day off from school. We took the sunshine-in-the-park cure once his tummy settled.

Later, I picked up my day where my imagination left it. This pool closes October 1. You'll know where to find me.

...

blurred borders

Thank Jude for reminding me that the work of my hands can have a point, a purpose beyond busywork or something to soothe the eye.

Mabon is upon us and yet Summer waddles on here reminding me every day of the precariousness of life on this Big Blue Marble. Feels like August in the daytime and late September after dark. Confusing.
Unsettling.
 Like having a foot in each world.

















The morning report from Brisco Airfield.

and just a few minutes later.....

Post psychedelia

This image is to remind me that I'll be happy after the chaos of remodeling the kitchen has passed and we haven't even started yet. I did catch a rat in one of those old-fashioned traps last night. I am certain Death was instantaneous. The kitchen upheaval is their fault and they will pay.

Be assured. This is not TV style remodeling. It's gonna be 'rip out the old and live with the mess for months' stuff. As we can manage.

Feeling hungover this morning for no real reason, unless red potato salad made with Bermuda onions has such properties.
Overnight temps in the 60s out of the blue contributed to deep sleep with bottomless dreams. I woke up not sure of the year for a long string of heartbeats. Not lost, but poised to choose.
Contributing to this time traveler feeling- scanning new photos from Mom's stash.
I love the way some Polaroids eat themselves while others just spin away to mist. 1971.

the midweek peach

First, we do a quick selfie to check in with Mom and Dad, letting them know I've retrieved Charlie from after school care.

Then we decide what the adventure for the rest of the afternoon will be. Today's first stop, the car wash. Endlessly entertaining for a five-year-old to have the car swallowed into the swishing belly of the sudsy beast complete with a light show and our own rock and roll.

The whole back seat of my car is awash with various forms of entertainment. A small basket overflowing with little toys, books, compass, magic wand. Over the summer I stocked it with a couple of spare blank notebooks and a set of markers which he ignored.

The first thing he did after clicking his own seatbelt (another first! "I got this, Nana.") was open up the notebook and break out the markers for the first time. I asked what he was writing. "I like the numbers the best, but there's an A." Not bad for writing in a moving car.

Once finally home, I was warmly received and righteously worn out. A great day.

The Night Garden

Nothing left but the dirty work. Truing, backing, picking cat hair and lint.

Some decent photographs. Maybe a little peddling somewhere.

Bringing this one to life, to reality, was a challenge.

It should finish out at 35"x22". I don't have anything suitable that's large enough for the backing so I'll do some scrounging this weekend.

Then, the river basket and the toolbox have to go in the closet for a bit while I get this story off the runway. Time to get the other side of my brain back in the game.

Sweetie

For a little while, she was on the front stoop watching our resident red shouldered hawk working the chipmunks.

She just rushed in here to take over my lap - stitching be damned. Lately, she's been anxious. Coyotes in the street before dawn. Me too.

Caught between

Summer and fall.

Writing and editing.

Less and more.




She drew the two of swords and knew it didn't matter then. Right or left. Sooner or later, there would be bloodshed. The only question was whose.

Old Wheels keep turning.

We are all grateful to see the backside if this weekend that started in the wee hours, Friday night. In the first rainstorm that we've had in weeks, the pickup croaked and had to be towed home the next morning.

The Honda had languished for about a month due to its lack of AC. As payback for the neglect, it decided to puke up its radiator the very next day.

I would rather have an ace mechanic in the family than a doctor. Doctors are not supposed to treat their own family members. I don't know what we would have done without Jake's skills and patience.  The car is running, the truck will be in a few days.