I love Fridays

It's been a day of lessons and indulgence.

I don't have to work tonight. After a busy morning and a solid nap, I came back to the sewing seat in the studio, turned on the task lamp and the music and stitched until full dark. It was a really nice piece of time.

In case you wonder about the mismatched socks, my feet are blind. It's a small part of my lifelong quest to Not Give a Flying Fuck about a lot of things that other people seem to go nuts over. Matching socks.


After weeks of freakish warmth, it's going to get cold again. I don't know how these will fare. This display strikes me as desperate with no pollinators around. I have to assume plants know what they are doing so I'm not going to cut them and bring them just in because they please my eyes.

Once the blooms die back and it warms up, I'm going to be thinning this bed. If anyone in the US wants some iris tubers, that originally came to me from NM, let me know.

These will serve that purpose. Someone else disconnected them from the earth. I'll pay for the privilege of just looking on their dying days.

Stitching stories

One book written, but a long way from done.

The second book in bits and pieces, scraps and dreams, but the seeds are planted.

Magic and miracles in the highest branches. Down in the grass, it's cloth, stitch, mayhem, and justice.

gifts

Look what the mailperson brought! Derwent watercolor pencils. And with no card or note from the giver.

Did someone think I needed another media to procrastinate with? As if stitch wasn't enough.

amending

It's after nine in the morning and so dark and dreary I'd go back to bed except that I've already had a solid six or seven hours. Too much lying abed and my back sends me nastygrams "Get up, you lazy bitch!"

So I'm here in the studio, with not enough light coming in the east window to stitch by. The rain has quit for the moment, but the forecast says, "Jammies will do today."

2019  Night Gardener  36x24 

Yesterday, I took the long-put off step of correcting the top line of "Night Gardener". I can't even remember what I was thinking about when I did this. Not good design, for sure.

It's been annoying me from the wall for months now and it was time. I posted a few detail posts to two new FB groups I joined just to see what was out there these days. I've gotten a bit disconnected from the stitch community.

Those detail shots garnered a lot of attention, then someone asked for an image of the full piece and I realized how botheringly quirky it is, so...

I fiddlefucked with the stitch ripper on invisible nylon machine stitching sunk deep between the backing - thick, cushy something that's cotton twill with a dose of something synthetic that has a good bit of stretch to it and took the dye in a smoky wonderful way AND

the base of the piece which is a yard of 100% wool suiting that is, at minimum, over fifty years old. I knew the owner and she never bought cheap goods.

The weave has dried a bit with age and once cut, unravels alarmingly fast. I need to set up the sewing machine and get this nailed back together properly soon, or I'm going to piecing in a repair. The wool is black as midnight in a mine and will be hard to replicate.

the threads

Here's my stash of Dirty Thread and the few tools it takes.

Thanks to everyone who bought sets over the weekend. I'll be off to the post office tomorrow.
If the light is right when I get back, I'll make up a few new sets with what's left of the inventory and post them.

Yes, new sets are up.

It's only January. Four months before I can make any more. I may take up the banjo. Or Portuguese. Clean out my closet so I can list it with Air BnB? Dispose of the hoarded crap that has taken over a fourth of our living space? Train the cats to do dishes and laundry?

Or publish one book and get the next one underway?
 Let me know if you'd like to be notified when Prophets Tango goes live. I promise to hoard your email like the rest of my stuff.

It could all happen, but guess which has priority.

Sunday catch-up

I've just logged into the day job for the first time since forever. I've only worked Christmas and New Years' days in the past two weeks.

Saving up vacation time to coincide with the school calendar is something I'm out of practice with, but was delighted to do. I don't see nearly as much of him as I'd like now that he's in school and we had a great time. There hasn't been much time for stitching and that was fine.

Charlie got to meet and interact with the new cats but played favorites with Sweetie who remains dubious but patient with short people.

He didn't know it but on one sleepover, there were five of us in the bed - three growling or purring, one snoring, and me not getting much sleep that night.

Something new.

The words are stuck.

A few actions will unstick them: driving, walking, or stitching. Somehow the last one seems out of place, but it's the only practical thing at the moment.

Until I get my back issues sorted out, driving or walking for any duration or distance, are not options. But I think I just challenged myself there.

In the meantime, there's a basket of talent waiting to be discovered. Glyphs are planned. Alien poetry waiting in the wings.

Merry Christmas

the weekend

While running like Sonic the Hedgehog, Charlie tripped and did a face plant in the gravel at aftercare. His glasses probably saved his eye from worse injury, but they didn't survive.

When I asked him if it hurt, he said, "Only when people look at me like it does." So I gave him my biggest sunglasses for when we went into Publix and told him to say "NOT a barfight."

After shopping for all manner of snacks, we sat at the kitchen table and sorted through a large tub of Legos I've hung on to since Jake and Colin were kids. There was a lot of trash in the tub and everything we saved had to be sanitized.

He told me all about the other happy holidays all going on at the same time. Kwanza, Hanukka, and Santa Lucia which I learned (from a five-year-old) is a Swedish holiday. I explained Solstice. We feasted and had a lovely visit while Jake installed a replacement interior in Jim's old pickup, seats, flooring, seatbelts and all. I wish we'd taken some 'before' pictures. Its a miracle.

Since that last sampler, I've been avoiding the stitching chair in the morning. Too many other things need attention like those spider webs that are somehow between the screen and the glass. The lights are up year-round.

Once I get all my holiday packages shipped, I kind of collapse when it comes to decorating. There's a sweet little tree downstairs waiting for its decorations. In good time.











The new family members continue to find their place in our routines. Sweetie has been very tolerant of both of them. There's more contention between the newcomers than I realized. Bailey is full of teenaged energy and mischief. Salem is a lady and not please with his rambunctiousness and will disappear at the slightest disturbance.

done here

but truly, for the pure pleasure of Stitching.

Insane, I'm told, I freehand the lettering directly to the cloth with a silver quilt marking pencil that traveled with Noah on the Ark, its so old.

Quite in love with my made-up font, there will most certainly be more, but for now, this one helped me clarify a scene that needed to die and crystallized the one that will take its place. Imagine a bad carnival ride replaced with a crystal ball.

The only thought that went into selecting colors was to choose lighter colors for 'fade' and 'away'. I was going to do some organic white on white shadowing some of the more prominent motifs in the damask, but my effort paled beside the real thing so I picked it out. A rinse and press should help call this finished. Eventually.

Salem

 Has decided she'll grace us with her presence.

At some point in the evening, all three of them were in the bedroom. Peacefully.

No one has expressed any further interest in cloth, or thread.