handstories

a story of stories

    Luckily, no one handed me any lesson plans to use while subbing in fourth grade this morning, so I was able to do what I wanted.   The kids often ask for stories, saying "You have so many stories!".   I always tell them, "You do, too.  You just have to tell them."  

    We started with a picture book from my childhood (see above).  The following discussion was about why the author wrote this story, leading into why does anyone share a story?  There were so many great thoughts.  Then we talked about ways to share stories- writing, telling, painting, acting, singing (at that moment we burst into a rousing rendition of "Ghost Riders in the Sky"), and of course, stitching.   

    Pulling out a pile of my cloths, and sharing the stories- stories of birthdays and years,  whimsy, frustration, dreams and wishes, sadness, and every day feelings.  I loved it that when the cloths were put in the middle of the circle, they all reached for them, wanting to touch.  A few even asked to see the backs.  

    I wonder what shape their stories will take?   

 

snapping

    Happily stitching along on "49", thinking how pleased I was that this piece might actually get finished during my 49th year, when "snap!".  The needle broke.  I've broken machine needles many times (including last year's through my finger incident), but never while hand sewing.  

    Though not a big deal, it threw me for a minute.  Without realizing it, I have developed routines, rituals, alright, maybe superstitions, in my stitching.  One of them is using the same needle for an entire piece.  Not only am I developing a relationship with the cloth, but the needle is too.  

    With all the time I've spent with my daily squares, the ceremony has become a little more involved.  Not only have I used the same needle, but as the day's square is finished, the needle is put into the next day's square- right to left, across the top, and then the blue pin (which has also been with it from the beginning) is put through the bottom of the next space- right to left. 

    In that "snap" of a moment I worried, "how will I finish without this needle?!  Is there a way to use the broken half....?"  Then I came to my senses, and found a new one.  So far, the cloth and newcomer seem to be getting along.  

    But if the daily squares' needle breaks, I may cry.

    Now who's snapping?

a fine kettle of fish to be in

    Pre-K has been studying the sea.  Some of the last couple of days were spent stuffing and stitching up their fish creations.  I love the wonder that these little ones see in everything.  Even batting is amazing in their eyes.  "More?!  How can more fit in there?!" as handful after handful went in.  Many of them had not seen, let alone used a sewing machine before, and were excited to step on the peddle.  Such power in the toes!  

    Most of them were shy during the experience, but my did their mouths have big wide smiles when they held their new stuffies.  "This is my lovey!"

The Fish With A Deep Sea Smile  by Margaret Wise Brown

They fished and they fished
Way down in the sea,
Down in the sea a mile.
They fished among all the fish in the sea,
For the fish with the deep sea smile.

One fish came up from the deep of the sea,
From down in the sea a mile,
It had blue-green eyes
and whiskers three,
But never a deep sea smile.

One fish came from the deep of the sea,
From down in the sea a mile,
With electric lights up and down his tail
But never a deep sea smile.

They fished and they fished
Way down in the sea.
Down in the sea a mile.
They fished among all the fish in the sea,
For the fish with a deep sea smile.

One fish came up with terrible teeth,
One fish with long strong jaws,
One fish came up with long stalked eyes,
One fish with terrible claws.

They fished all through the ocean deep,
For many and many a mile.
And they caught a fish with a laughing eye,
But none with a deep sea smile.

And then one day they got a pull, 
From down in the sea a mile.
And when they pulled the fish into the boat, 
HE SMILED A DEEP SEA SMILE.

And as he smiled the hook got free,
And then, what a deep sea smile !
He flipped his tail and swam away,
Down in the sea a mile.

balanced (or apologies to m.)

    See that yarn up there?  It is an amazing thing.  Not because of the color or texture (though that's swell, too).  Just look at it hanging there in a loop.  It is balanced!  There is no twisting left or right, just a lovely oval draping, letting me look through its' center, just like it is supposed to.  Now this may be a common occurrence to most spinners, but it was my first time chain-plying such a balanced yarn.  

    None of the boys in this house were quite thrilled enough for me when I pulled if off the wheel yesterday.  

    Which leads me to poor M. (a fellow teacher).  She asked what I had done this weekend?  Launching into a long description of spinning a single, chain plying, etc. (I even dug yarn out of my pocket to demonstrate)- all of this required big looping and twisting arm movements.  

    I should tell you that M. does not spin, or knit, or use yarn for any purpose.  She is very kind, and nodded, smiled, and congratulated . . . and will probably not ask me what I did next weekend.

(Spun from a Hobbledehoy batt in the "cedar" colorway)

new neighbor?

    The ducks have returned to the pond.  More than I ever recall seeing before, more than thirty.  Stopping traffic as they waddle to and fro, exploring the neighborhood.  

    And who is that tall dark stranger?  Its feathers are beautiful when the light hits- black, blue, green . . . Is she/he just passing through, or looking for a new brace, flock, flush, raft, team or paddling* to spend the season with?

    Please let me know if you've met the likes of him/her before and can tell me the name.

    I think this is going to be an interesting Spring.

(* indulging my love for collective nouns)

making visible

    Working on "49".  Appreciating these tiny squares to focus on, one at a time - knowing that they happened, and what went into the traveling through each of those pieces of time.  Trying to honor the space each represents.  Wondering if there is enough room for all the stitches that should go into this?

for Was and jude

wishing them peace.

49

    Today there are forty-nine, for the cloth and for me, too.  

    And because "it's my party and I'll do what I want to" . . . an indigo square for today's daily square.

    It's been a good day.  Breakfast out, a quilt show, and a bunch of time for cloth and wool, and a little bit of quiet, and, hopefully, german chocolate cake later.  All my wishes come true.

 

stitching it out

It's March.

It snowed today.

Wondering where I am.

 

knitters not models

    There's been a bunch of knitting going on around here.  Above is Moon's first scarf.   Needles and a Surprise Ball of yarn (a yarn ball that I hid trinkets and beads throughout to motivate him to keep knitting) were one of my gifts to him a couple of birthdays ago.  

    I had finished up a couple of knitting projects last week, too, and had the brilliant idea that we should do a photo shoot with the boys and I wearing the three objects.

 Bad idea.                                                                                                                        

    Thirteen year olds think that it is "creepy" to be wearing mama's cowl for a photo.  Sensitive skinned nine year olds do not want wool that is "too itchy" on their face.

    Never mind.  I give you lifeless, but cooperative photos . . .

                                 A cowl/scarf meant to wear in a myriad of ways, sent off as a gift.

That cowl with the buttons attached, finally.