handstories

"by the sea, by the sea, by the beautiful sea…"

    A day at the beach.

    I could watch it forever.

    Nothing seems to matter.

    It all washes away.

    K commented, "If I ever want to make you happy, I just have to take you to the ocean."

            "I know."

    Some wave-like stitching.

fiber sunshine

 

    For a change of pace, in those rare moments when I've had enough blue, some "Golden Raspberry" battlings by Hobbledehoy are being spun.  One bobbin is full, another to go, and then an attempt at bettering my two-plying skills.

    Summer is winding down, the rains are supposed to come today, cross your fingers for the wildfires.

"Just blue."

    Blue wants blue.  No designs, no tie-dye, just plain, heavy, and long enough.  

    Ok, then.

    A sea of blue it will be.  

    (P.S. One very frustrated thirteen year old and his mama (who he is making nuts) would greatly appreciate any advice regarding how to stop the itchiness under his cast.  Thank you.)

orbs

    The moon is growing, along with its rainbow rings.

    Yesterday the Seattle skies were filled with smoke from the nearby wildfires.

    Sending out thoughts for the three fire fighters who died last week.      

messed up moons

    I don't know what happened, but I'm just going to go with it.  The real moon is lumped and bumped, right?  

    As is my Moon, too.  

    The moral of his story?  Clean your bedroom, or at least the floor, so that you don't trip over stray things, and then have your mother say, "I think you're fine.  Let's see how it feels tomorrow?"

    It's been a week.  

    (Sorry for the blurry cast photo taken with my old non-smart phone.) 

refreshed

    It started with the passport discussion with K.  He had put them in the safe deposit box, where he thought they would be safer.  

    I wanted them in the house, "What if I want to go to Italy or Canada tomorrow?"  

    "That's another reason to keep them at the bank," he said.

    "Bring them back tomorrow."

    Thursday eve, two days later, a friend was over.  She mentioned wanting to get a gift for someone starting college in Vancouver, B.C.  I suggested a gift card or shirt from the school.  

    "I need it quick, and it will cost a lot to call Canada.  I think we should drive up there on Saturday."

    I yelled to K, "I'm going to Canada!  Good thing I've got my passport!"

    Now I  know that the math of a ten minute international phone call versus driving six hours, meals, and a hotel room does not make any sense at all,

    but still . . . the hotel lobby had a Venetian like ceiling of stars,

    and the room had a great view of the city and the twinkle lit trees below,

    and the sculpture that greats you as you cross the border on the way back gives such a feeling of flight and vast views,

    and we had such a good time.

movement

    Spiders hatching outside our kitchen window, it's about the size of a small pea.

    A new cloth that I've been thinking about.  Hoping it will share with others the feelings of peace and hope that I've always found in company of the sea and the night sky.

    I hadn't stitched much in the last couple of weeks- too busy, too hot, too unsettled.  With the first few stitches a relaxing relief washed over . . . the needle movement, the thread pulling through, the blue . . . it was all good.

    And the storms . . . summer storms with lightning and thunder and drenching thick rain . . . very good.

today a ticket to Italy costs $2,560 ($3,018 round trip)

    I've been staring at this deck prism and the trees out back a lot, especially at sunset.  Looking for that perfect moment of light.  I suppose there isn't one.

    It feels like something is missing.  I don't know if it's a time from the past, or something hoped for, or maybe it's just the melancholy of summer's end?   I keep replaying the memory of four year old Blue with his ukelele, while we sang "I've Been Working On the Railroad" at the top of our lungs.  He suddenly stopped and said with admiration, "You're a good singer, Mama!"  That look of believing his mama could do anything.  Lately, I apologize every other day for not having a clue how to do this job of letting go.

    I finally finished spinning this yarn.  It's been on the wheel so long I can't find a photo of how it began or remember who the fiber came from.

    The sky has suddenly turned dark, and there is thunder rumbling in the distance, coming closer.  Maybe that will shake things up?

august time

    When I couldn't make it to the Block party, a neighbor sent K home with these for me.  We have a pretty great neighborhood.  Our dear next door neighbors are moving soon.  I don't want to talk or think about it.

    The last week has seen some digging out in the house.  I've emptied six of these cubbies, among other spaces.  In all, it equalled filling the recycling can (a big one), two garbage bags, two bags of donations, and one box of books for our next trip to Powell's.  August is not long enough for the work yet to be done.

    So, there has not been much stitching, just some thinking on blue- blue blankets, blue sea/sky cloths, blue walls . . . my brain is brewing blue.  A little knitting fills the evenings.  The "twilight" yarn ran out, so "cove" is finishing up the job.  "Twilight Cove" that rings with the mood of August.

heart surgery

    I didn't like it from the beginning, and it was still bugging me, so out it went.

    It's a tricky and fiddly process, but it's been much more enjoyable than the time I spent trying to force it and make what was there work.  I should have listened to myself sooner.