Saturday, July 11, 2020

Words later

Be my touchy.

don't text 

don't call 

no tweets

I want face to face

hand to hand

cheek to cheek

back to back.


But sometimes, words are not necessary.








Thursday, July 09, 2020

distraction

In an effort to escape real-life turmoil, I'm prepping for a dye fest this weekend.  I have several dismembered linen and silk blouses (thank you, Joanne) and a few garments that will stay whole for now. 

The thread I ordered six weeks ago was finally delivered and, in time, will be carded for dyeing in smaller batches than usual. I need some blues, golds, greens, browns... 

A gift of vintage linen napkins (thank you, Nancy) will be transformed. I can't recall doing this "bundling" thing before.
Each will yield cloth and thread. Still thinking about how the dye should be applied.  Under these bundles, a circle of heavy, supple linen with all the wonderful fringe that I hope I can "creep" color onto.(thank you, Kitty)

Last, this cloth, strange and wonderful (thank you, Mel). A king-sized flat sheet of some unimaginable thread count.
At first, I though that is for my bed, but as I took it from the dryer it turns out to be the noisest cloth, natural or otherwise, I've ever encountered. What is that crackling? It  sounds almost like it's made of kraft paper. I have no idea how it's going to take the dye. Don't you love a mystery?

And what would I do without all my faithful cloth scouts? I really miss the hunt.

Tuesday, July 07, 2020

back to the garden

Earlier in spring, there were a few puny buds that barely opened before browning and falling off. I gave up getting any gardenias. 

I went to the library for the first time in three overdue notices only because there were also notices that "Varina" and "Regrets" were finally available. 

The new library guy looks just like Justin Trudeau. What I could see over his mask anyway.  

As I pulled back into the driveway a flash of white caught my eye. There they were, three in bloom and more buds waiting. 
 


Gardenia. The sexiest flower in the garden.

Those feathery leaves are Red Cypress Hummingbird vine. I better go back up there tomorrow with some tall sticks to give them and the morning glory something else to climb on before they all choke each other. 

It's a Jungle up there! 








And in keeping with yesterdays post about keeping our eyes on one another, 

How are you doing? 

Where ever you are in the world, what's the thing you cling to for keeping an even keel to your day?

a week away

Not from home, but here. Many things were happening and I just let the days unfold without thinking about documenting them or sharing.  Nothing dire. Most of it beautiful, engaging and pretty mundane. 
Gifted cloth transformed

Then I started thinking about how I feel these fraught days when online friends go "missing". A vague ache that pushes me further away from the imaginary realm.  
The pool is finally open, to the delight of two of us, so far.


A whole day spent stitching to music. High as a kite on last year's harvest was capped in miraculous fashion by Hamilton. 

I hardly have words to describe it. On reflection, I realize part of my intense emotional responses, rivers of tears both bereft and joyful, were about how much Jimmy would have loved it. 

There have been gifts and letters in the mail and I'm frustrated by not being willing/able to go to the post office. I need to find a way. Putting Colin at risk by having him do all the grocery shopping is bad enough. 

Georgia, along with the rest of the South is a pesthole. We circle our wagons, masking and handwashing like starving raccoons. 

Smoke still in the air after the bombardment of the 4th.

Wednesday, July 01, 2020

Wednesday is my Friday and




....the new anchor of my week. Writing to prompts with Dee Mallon. She who has suffered my manuscript from nearly chapter one.

We give each other a phrase, then we write for 30 minutes. Then share and assess the results. "It's like licking a nine-volt!"  












Yesterday,  the sun called me to the stitching chair for a few minutes.
First, I had to dish out one minute of love. That's all he wants then he springs up and goes about his business.

As I'm still debating whether to shadow the lettering with a brighter color, I started backfilling the openwork with bits of color. 
I did this years ago when I used a whole tablecloth with cutwork to back "Ocean Homes". The minute I started it, I regretted it. Not this time. This piece small and the horizons of "done" are close.

And this from the river basket. Just Juicy! Plain old muslin...not!