handstories

moon blue

    Almost five am.  Woke up over an hour ago.  Just before Blue's alarm went off.  An early flight for him.  K. is dropping him off at the airport right now.   Gone until Christmas.  Back to Ohio, for his senior year.  One more year and then who knows? 

        This piece was the last two days.  The moon was unexpected.

    There was actually the start of a star, first traced in soap, and then outline basted in orange thread.  After a bunch of pale blue thread beads were in, it just seemed wrong.  The moon called.

    But really, it's all about the blue, and Blue.

home star

    A star stitched on the road during our family vacation this last week.  K. and I had wished for a quiet island getaway, but the boys voted for city life, they wanted to "DO" things.  Fine.  

    I wrote up a list of possible activities in the places we would be, asked everyone to pick their top three choices (mine were the only votes for museums).  Selections were compiled and organized into days so that everyone's wishes could happen (including an art museum).  

    On the first day they both said they hoped that we wouldn't be doing things all of the time, that they would need time to relax...honestly.

    Blue heads back to school for his senior year in a couple of days.  This may have been our last trip with him living here.  Lots of feelings, in many directions.

    I'm so glad for cloth and thread and home.

parenting (& cloth)

    With the first layer there are hopes and dreams, imagining how it might be, and even the fun of the unknown.  You try to make things light and beautiful.

    And then new things are layered on, adding depth and mystery, and the unknown can take on an ominous feeling.  

    And all you can do is hope that in the end, all of the loving, caring and hard work... everything that went into it all...

    Will shine through.

love sutures

    Good thing that bag was packed.  There was another trip to Urgent Care that day.  While waiting for the next thing to happen, out came a needle and blue thread to mark the blanket covering my friend.  "There!  You've got a kiss on you!"

    And on the sheet,

    the pillowcase,

    the curtain,

    And her sleeve.

    The stitches and photos are wonky, quickly done just in case the next doctor/nurse/CT scanner/whoever appeared.  They probably won't be noticed, and if so, maybe they'll make someone wonder, or even smile?  Or they will be unwelcome graffiti (that isn't knotted, so easily removed).

    Anyway, they helped to pass the time, and made her laugh during four stressful hours.  (And things were ok in the end.)

trying to think in pictures and words

    This is the third attempt at a post.  First I wrote a gruesome memory involving twins, a bicycle and a big toe.  And then a sappy meandering through hill thoughts.  Try, try, again...

    My friend's recovery from surgery has been slow and bunny-hopping with setbacks.  I drive across the bridge every few days (which has been it's own adventure), and stay with her for some hours while her partner tends to other parts of their lives.  Each time I pack a bag- stitching, notebook, novel, magazine (in case I can't concentrate at all).  Rarely does any of it come out of the bag.  We talk and talk, as she rests in bed- about selves, family, people we know, my parenting, her upcoming wedding, Maya Angelou, memories of first grade reading groups... anything and everything.

    Another pink hill.  I still don't know why they are in my head and heart.  Fairytale like and full of childhood memories, maybe?  Why the "and..."?  The lines in the fabric invited a word to be written.  There was an "and" discussion this week, how it's much kinder than "but...".  It's true, and it will take some practice.  And it makes me think of storytelling... "and then...".

    And now I'm going to go pack up my bag again, and head over the bridge, to tell some more stories about who knows what...

orange you glad...

    Jude shared some sunshine recently... Janie taught me to love orange.  She would point out flowers, pumpkins and the Sun.  She loved the Sun.  It was never too hot for her.  (Those that have been here a while have heard stories of my long gone friend, for you new folks who would like some backstory, there's a "Janie" category to click on at the bottom of the post.)  

    She loved all colors with a passion...she loved most things with a passion.  Everything was "the Most Beautiful" thing she'd ever seen.  I used to laugh and roll my eyes at her.  "Everything can't be the most." I'd say, ever the Eeyore to her enthusiasm.

    "But it IS!"

    She really lived in the moment.

    (Stitching lavender, the first of three border lines.)   

    She bought this dress- a long flowing peachy orange thing with lavender trims, it was the 90's.  It was the most beautiful dress she'd ever seen...  She was wearing it as we sat in her sewing room.  "It looks like a sunset..." she said.

    Soon after she painted her sewing room walls that same peachy orange, with lavender baseboards and ceiling trim.  

    It was the most beautiful room...

Lavender & Light

    It seems lavender and periwinkle have been catching my eye lately, or they have worked their way to the top of the cloth baskets.  Either way, they are peaceful easy colors...  

    This handful of handstories will be going into the shop tomorrow (Friday).  

    Wishing you all a lavender weekend, oxo.

what day is it???

    Last week was all about the abstract.

    Since then, there have been two birthdays (K. & Moon).  Moon's (17th!) included his girlfriend, a whirl (or four) on the Seattle Great Wheel, finding a geogache*** with the two of them, and apple fritters.  Which, if I remember right, is what Blue asked for on his 17th birthday, too. 

    There has also been time spent supporting a close friend recovering from surgery, a bee sting for Moon that required an ER trip, multiple taxiing trips for two boys who refuse to drive (Don't get me started), and at 4am tomorrow Blue is heading to New Jersey for a conference.  

    A couple of moons, a boat and a few trees in the last days were good for relaxing.  (It's funny, and swell, how happy playing with those tiny beads makes me.)  Tomorrow I think I'll sit still and stitch some squares.

    *** "Geocaching is an outdoor recreational activity, in which participants use their smart phone and other navigational techniques to hide and seek containers, called "geocaches" or "caches", at specific locations marked by coordinates all over the world."  

    (It's the new-fangled & technological way to go on a scavenger/treasure hunt.)

the moon & other wonders

    It started with a piece of cloth full of Shibori (Nui Shibori?), a gift from Jude.  Each one is like a truffle.  I just love them.  When this golden centered one was placed on a piece of Tina's lavender cloth, it reminded me of the moon.  There was some thinking about rectangle vs circle, and what if the moon was different than we know?  Still not sure where this piece is going, the ideas keep coming, and changing.

    Last night we watched a PBS show about the landing on the moon.  And imagined what it must have felt like to see up close, step on, and know the moon?  There was some sadness too, for the unknown being lost.  It's not made of cheese, no one is living in it...  

    Something is lost with too much knowing.

pink echoes

    Following Jude's advice for rinsing her gifts of red, these scraps were pinned to what's left of an old walnut/tea dyed silk shirt, and then put through the wash.  (She shares more thoughts about this process in her series).  The resulting pinks are pretty. 

    There was a time when I didn't think residual rosiness was quite so swell...  

    We had just moved into our first apartment, married two weeks.  A funky old 1920's office building with two apartments upstairs.  Other than here, it's my favorite place we've ever lived...  Anyhow, downstairs there was a washer and dryer (one quarter for a wash, and a dime for thirty minutes in the dryer!).  K. went to do the laundry.  There weren't that many whites, so he threw in his old red striped bathrobe.  You can guess what happened.  Pink underwear and t-shirts for a year.

    We've pretty much been doing our own laundry since.