The pen was found, so pages are being labeled. Now I'm wondering if I should mess with it more by adding bits of the stories of each thing?
The start of today's page, Deb's thread.
Another book, the first one I made, is open next to me as a place to test paints, practice writing, doodle (this one was one of Carla Sonheim's one-liner exercises).
This morning I stood looking at the mailbox, trying to remember, "Did anyone get the mail yesterday? Or was yesterday Sunday? What day IS it?" While trying to answer my own questions, it finally occurred to me to just open the mailbox and see.
The studio table is overflowing. Things are precariously balanced atop each other- paints, books with painting that needs to dry, thread, cloth, to-do lists, pens, brushes, snacks...
This is how things go in our corner of the world. (FYI- no one had emptied the mailbox yesterday.)
Two-hundred-eighty squares (69%) finished, 128 to go.
There was some spinning this week. A little each day. It's been SO long, so long that there were spider webs all over it. It feels good to be at it again.
And a piece was almost finished. It's about all of this- how things might be, and maybe, just hopefully maybe, how things really are at the root of it all.
Rosee part 5:
"I forgot to tell you about moving Tablespoon to the Dude Ranch in the pine hills. I got lonesome for him and his daily bath.
Back in the summer of '34 when everything burned up in the drought, all the other horses had sore backs so Bill Hatch asked if he could use Tablespoon to ride circle. When they got back he was all a foam of sweat and they were afraid I’d give them hell for overriding him, so they sneaked him down to the pond and scrubbed him down clean before they turned him out where I might see him.
Every time they turned him out in that pasture after that he’d go to the pond and climb in and give himself a bath. Also he’d round up all the other horses and drive them into the corral till they finally had to put him in another pasture all by himself. Anyway I drove to the ranch and rode him 13 miles to Ostendorfs and put him in their barn. Emmett (her brother) came after me and took me home for the night.
Next morning, I came and got him and rode him about half way to the Dude Ranch. I was standing by the road looking at him and he was looking at me as though he thought I was crazy, wondering how I could possibly get back on with my sore bottom and sore legs, when Empty came driving gaily along in the car. He leered out of the window at me, “I thought I’d find you just about here walking. How would you like to drive the car and I’ll ride him the rest of the way.“ I dearly loved him that minute."
