handstories

not that kinda girl

    Lest you all think I'm just a glitter and rainbows kinda sort . . . Moon was adding to his supply list, "What are cap rolls, and do we have any?"  Imagine his surprise, and mine, when I suddenly remembered that, yes, I did, and knew where they were.

    I have no memory of when or where I got them.  Probably I saw them somewhere and had a flash of memory and the fun we had as kids banging the caps with rocks on the sidewalk, trying to hit them just right to make those tiny cracks of explosion.   It ranked right up there with popping the tar bubbles in the street and setting paper on fire with a magnifying glass on hot summer days.

    Moon and I sat on the sidewalk, smashing the caps with rocks, me telling him all of this, and about standing on the edge of the concrete holding tanks Dad sometimes had on the back of the flatbed from work.  We would grab tree branches and swing off Tarzan style, until Mom yelled for us to stop before someone broke an arm.  

    And then there was the "vacation" my family took every May.  We would go to Eastern Oregon for a week of camping with a couple of other families.  Once you were twelve you got to join the group that went out each day to the rancher's land and shoot rifles at the ground squirrels that would pop out of their holes.  (The holes were a hazard for the cattle)  After my first "kill" I cut the tail off of the poor creature, tied a string on it, and wore it for weeks until it rotted off, much to my 5th grade teacher's dismay.

    After hearing my tales, Moon asked me if I ever did anything that wasn't dangerous as a kid?  I suppose I shouldn't be so surprised about his latest interests after all.

    (Yarn spun from a Hobbledehoy batt, the colorway is "Unicorn", in honor of the girl I wasn't!)

boats, berries & bombs

    While I've been stitching the summer away with pretty colors and daydreams, Moon has been acquiring new reading material.

    I'm not sure what's going on?  It started with a new interest in mystery novels, and thinking of writing his own.  The police books were for background information.  

    Things have taken a turn . . .  The last week was spent making contraptions from the mini weapon book- everything from water bombs to tubes that shoot homemade darts of sewing pins and duct tape.  He's made a shopping list for supplies- including lighters, mouse traps and bb-gun bullets.  Hmmm… 

    I told him,  "If we don't have it or you can't find it at the art store, I don't think so.  Let's go pick some berries."

    Stitching another boat for balance.

good enough will have to do

    Well, I've wrangled and argued with the sun this morning in trying to take photos.  The colors don't seem quite true, or there are shadows, or there is a too blue cast (never thought I'd say that!).  It's clear that I'm not going to win.  

    We're looking forward to a quiet weekend, with nowhere to be, no baseball games, and cooler weather.  Wishing you all the same!

    "A warm storm coming", "Rainbowing the Moon" and "A wishing place" are in the shop.

ship shape

    Worked on the ship for this piece yesterday, and will again today.  Usually, there isn't a defined idea in mind at the beginning, but with this one, there are some feelings and images at the edges of my mind that I'd like to get onto the cloth.  It's proving harder than I thought, which is ok.  Here I'm trying to create a sketchy look, a defined ship, much deeper than realized- something like an iceberg.  It holds, but is also open to receive.  Weighed down, and buoyant with star light and the flight of feathers.  

    It's good to think, and stretch, and try.  Whatever comes out, there will still be the knowing of what's really there.

outside-in & downside-up

    I don't think I was quite all back yesterday.  While standing in line at the post office, Moon and I noticed that nothing interesting was happening (usually post office trips involve at least one odd story).  Then I looked down, and realized that not only did I have my skirt on inside out, it was backwards, too- with the pocket hanging out the back.  I'd been "dressed" for hours.  Tucking my pocket in and pulling my t-shirt down lower, we finished up our business.  Because we had more errands to do, I had him keep watch while I straightened myself out in the car.  (Did I mention that our post office is next door to a liquor store, across from the pot shop, and the joint (ha!) parking lot is a popular hang out in a somewhat sketchy neighborhood?)

     A few other mishaps occurred- including losing the rubber ear-piece thingy of my sunglasses, and having to drive to the other side of town at rush hour (which turned into a very s-l-o-w hour), to take Moon to his baseball game.  

    It's surprising how disorienting a couple of days away can be, or maybe it was the shock of being in that heat over the weekend?  (How do the rest of you survive it?!)  Thankfully, there was some therapeutic moon stitching.  

toasted

    We did make it near the Yakima River for a short walk before the heat of the day set in.  It crept up each day, with the last game being played in 101 degrees.  

     We stayed cool in the hotel between games, though warm storms were still on my mind.  

    I'll confess that there is something in the open endlessness of the land that made me feel uneasy, but that wide sky!  I could look at that forever.  On the drive home last night, I became obsessed with the clouds. 

    We drove into the sunset (and a lot of bugs from the looks of that windshield).

    It's always interesting to see other views, but we're glad to be home.  Now to clean and catch up . . .

where the wind blew us

    We've traveled to the other side of the mountains for the weekend.  We're in the middle of Washington, Yakima, for a baseball tournament.  Approaching the city we could see the tops of Mt. Adams and Mt. Rainier, with a faint moon between.  This isn't a great photo, and the moon didn't show up, but it was quite pretty.  (If you do the double-click thing, you might be able to make it out in the center, about a 1/3 of the way up.)

    We watched Blue pitch for probably the last time today.  Oh, he loves this game.

    It's hot out there, so we're relaxing in the hotel for the afternoon.  There's a warm storm being stitched with some more of Deb's cloths.

rain & quiet

    "On we go . . ."

    "For holding"

    "Twinkling in the wholeness"

    Last night there were hours of listening to the pouring rain through the open window above my head.  Today is gray and quiet.  I think there will be more rainbow stitching today.  Wishing everyone a peaceful weekend.

    New pieces in the shop.

we're weird.

    K's birthday was Monday, Moon had a game all evening, which translated into K breaking into his birthday pie alone on Monday, but us singing over its missing piece on Tuesday.   And it really made sense to give Moon his gift of new catcher's gear before his game on Monday, even though we partied for him on Wednesday, and the real day is Friday, when Blue will be gone.  Which meant that in the end they'll both have two or three days, but not any whole day that's all about them.  Confused yet?

    I forgot to flip the bottom layer upside down on Moon's cake, to create a level surface. Strawberries halved and wedged in around the edge are keeping it from teetering and collapsing. Cakes are not my forte.

    This mixed up week of birthdays and baseball has thrown us all for a loop. I asked Moon if it was too weird that we moved birthdays all over the place this year?  "Yeah, but we're weird," was his reply.   

    We are topsy-turvy with berries for balance. 

Who's the grown-up?

    (Evidence of bad behavior, top left corner.  K says he almost doesn't want to use it, it makes him laugh.)

    During college, intra-mural soccer, our coach was a very sweet and earnest young man, and we were an unruly bunch.  During time outs we would yell our thoughts at and over him.  Then one game I noticed his frustrated discouraged face.   I tried to make "Who's the coach?" my new mantra.  

    Some years later, watching my siblings parent, sometimes just like our parents did, as we do, there was a day when one of them had a plan to knock over their four-year-old's sandcastle.  

    "What are you doing?!"

        "Well, he did it to mine!"

    "But You're the grown-up!"

    It was one of those light bulb moments for both of us, realizing this was something we hadn't learned by example in our own childhoods.  And now, my boys get to experience my on-the-job learning.  At least this generation's go-around sometimes includes some self-and-re-evaluation.  I'll hope that that counts for something during the review process.

        Some stitches pulled out, replaced, added, mended . . . moving on.