handstories

Coming around to

    A while ago, a dearest friend said that she wanted to make a quilt.

    Things have been very busy, so I sighed inside.

    This friend is very good at starting projects that I end up finishing for her... the knitted scarf for her dad, the baby blanket for a friend's daughter, a hooked pillow for an old boyfriend, the list goes on.

    "I don't have time to make a quilt right now," I said, discouraging her plans.

    But for her birthday a couple of months ago, I filled a box with squares of fabric, stitching template, soap sliver for marking, needle, thread, and a note agreeing to our next project.  

    A few weeks later, she and her man invited us to their sailboat christening.  I was happily surprised to see she'd been stitching pairs together and putting them to use already.

    (A silly aside, the bottle of bubbles we brought.  Relabeled with a photo of Moon.)

 

    Last weekend we spent a couple of lovely hours stitching together.  I shared stories of some of the cloths, we discussed favorites, reminiscing projects with students when we taught together, etc.  And the straight running stitched lines were so satisfying to make.  She commented on my two finished seams for each of hers.  I reminded her that I do practice with a needle now and then.

    I'm looking forward to the quilting to come, and very glad that I came around.

Moons aplenty

    When I accidentally tore one of Jude's moons, a story came pouring out.  There are +'s to continue, dots to repeat, purple and magenta to float further, and, of course, more stars... 

    Moon called just to chat out of the blue yesterday.  You can't believe what a wonder this is.  Maybe we've both grown up some.

    There are twelve blocks so far (although, looking at them today, I saw that a couple were put in the pile before they were finished).  More than I thought, but less than needed.

    (Five posts in one week!  I'm calling this an official Roll.)

Ghosts & Going

    The story of this one changed every time I picked it up.

 

 

    Moon was home for a few days.  Doing great.  We talked for hours.  We've come so far and are so the same.  Gratefully, he doesn't mind anymore. 

    There was the moment when I started to tell him something about my childhood, and he stopped me, "Are you sure you want to tell me?"  Because somewhere inside of him, he knows.

    "I'm not going to tell you about that yet."  Because we both know that I know he knows.

    And remembering a conversation with a family member decades ago... Him saying, "I don't know why you can't..."

    "Do you want to know?  Because I will tell you."

    "No.  I don't need to know."  Because he knew.

 

    Working on the woven quilt again.  Not worrying about anything with this- crooked wavering stitched lines, variations in thickness, rough edges, nothing.  Letting it all go.  Just going.  I wish I could do that with everything.

    Thank goodness for the moon to rest in.

Whatever day it is...

    There are days when it feels like the universe is cracking open lives and hearts. 

    A week ago, I was quilting as fast as I could, hoping for a Christmas miracle.  Often thinking of our friends and this precarious journey they are on.  Meditating on and stitching with hope, frantically trying to ward off the opposite.

    I believe in miracles, expect them.  Sometimes we just need to shut up and let them happen, make room for the possibility of them, open our arms wide to welcome them in.

    A lot of time is spent at their place these days.  Delivering, picking up, taking things away, hanging out with her in the evenings after he's asleep.

    We talk, drink wine, eat Thai food, shelve books, take out the recycling, talk about what still needs done, I set alarms to remind her the next day.  We watch the house across the street, the one that was one fire a week ago.  This week someone was found stabbed to death in it.

    A couple of days ago, I threw in the towel and tossed the quilt to the end of the couch.  Knowing that the only way it could possibly get done was to spend the days frantic and stressed.  Enough.

    One evening, there was a yahrzeit candle burning on their counter.  "It's Dead Mom Day," she said.

        "But it's only the 12th," I said.

    "13th."

       "Isn't it Wednesday the 12th?"

    "It's Tuesday the 13th." 

 

    I'm often confused these days.

 

    We toasted her mom and snacked on a box of Corn Pops cereal, which her mom loved.  Later she pulled out the Christmas decorations, which she doesn't care about, but he likes.  I untangled the lights while she filled the bookshelves with a few ornaments and decorations made by his children when they were young.

    The Christmas sock her mom had made for her long ago was in need of repair.  I took it with me when K came to pick me up.  On the way home I cried, because there are some things that you can't fix.

    Ornaments for my guys in process.  Threadcrumb moons on that starry cloth that K gave me twenty-five years ago when I was pregnant with Blue and full of hope.

What we can do

    Many thank yous for all of your love and kind thoughts on the last post.  You folks fill my spirit.

    I was alone the last few days.  The guys were all scattered to the wind with fun plans, and I was looking forward to really concentrating on stitching for the shop...  and then the last week happened.  Letting things go.  I did spend hours watching really stupid TV and quilting on the woven quilt.  Some really bad stitching in places.  Letting that go, too.

    There will be more definitive news this week, hopefully with a plan, hopefully with some kind of hope.

    Whenever I don't know what to do, I think about feeding them.  Especially her.  On Thanksgiving I spent two hours making stroganoff.  Not the kind of thing I normally do, but no one in the house likes mushrooms as much as I do. It was a good distraction, delicious, and I was so glad to be able to hand her a warm bowlful when she picked me up today.

    "Turn off the car for a minute and eat this."

    We went to batten down the hatches on their sailboat before the rains come.  While we worked, I kept hearing my dad's voice... all the things he used to say when we were out fishing, hunting, etc.  "Pay attention, you might learn something," was a favorite saying of his.

    While driving home, I fed her grapes.

    "Eir" for healing.

Contented in Through

"Through"

    While naming pieces for today's update, "through" kept coming up.  So many things feel like "getting through" right now, not in a bad way, just things going on, and remembering my mother-in-law's idea that "through is a place".  I guess we are always in through.  (This through started with a dreamy piece of Deb's cloth and was framed in Tina's twilight purple.)

    In anticipation of K's surgery on Monday (the biggest through), and of his being home for weeks, I wove and pinned the next section of the quilt.  Did it have a name?  If so, it's gone now.  

    I'm guessing that there will be less time and focus for making pieces for the shop.  Quilting will be a comforting no-thinking required thing to do.

    Not the best photo, but a sense of where it's at now.

    And a blurry hot pink photo of the current socks on the needles in the bright sunlight.  I often knit a few rows after breakfast to wake up my hands and head.  These are eye-openers!  Someone I know has been wearing a lot of hot pink and fuchsia lately.

    Bear close-up for Barbara.

    "Razia" meaning "contented".  Wishing the same for us all.

Coming up for air

    Quilting these woven hillsides... all I want to be doing.

    One little moon was started, but I am so distracted by those hills.  (This one might take a while, but there are a few other pieces in the shop).

    Thanks to Dee for her gift of scraps, including these golden moon bits, Tina for the deep purple night, and for Deb's golden threads that add to the glow.

    I wish I had one to share...  These days are filled with day-to-day-ness and/or the scurrying and worrying of getting Moon ready to head off to college (one week!).  There's actually not too much worrying, with him being the second send-off, and so much closer than Blue was, anything needed can be delivered in a daytrip.  There may still be a few anxieties going on (his and mine), but we are all excited and ready for this next step to happen.

    He insists on taking this old blanket, so some mending has been done to hold it together.  It's so threadbare, a synthetic purchase from a department store in the late 80's (probably the only bought blanket in the house).  Covered with silly sheep.  He loves it.  He says he'll take the quilt I made him, too.  At least there's that.

    We have packing piles all throughout the house... his for school, and two for me.  I'm delighted to be assisting Christine Mauersberger during her workshops next week (this one and this one).  It's going to be a busy good week!

    In the meantime, there are hills to stitch....

    And, yes, I am going about this project in every direction at once, trusting that it will all work out in the end.

Weaving self

    There was a day in the drear of August, at a loss of what to do with myself (or in spite of), that I went looking for old projects.  Looking for something that could be continued without much thought or effort.  Many half-starts were found, including three made of six, nine or twelve inch square pieces.  Another with random pieces patchworked together, a few with appliqued creatures, and strips of hills from this pattern, begun more than a decade ago.  Just looking at the stack of starts and stops made me weary.  Was there a way to mishmash them into one?  Just to get a useful blanket if nothing else?  Without math or planning?

    The rotary cutter was grabbed.  Much of it was cut into three inch strips.  A strip quilt was in mind.  In the aftermath, looking at the pile of long and short lengths, I knew that I didn't want to spend hours sewing long lines on long strips, so I put them in a box, put the lid on, and shelved it all.

    A week later, I woke up and thought of weaving- a possibility.  I was remembering Jude's workshop years ago, and that day she mentioned weaving on Instagram- a sign.  I spent the day re-reading and re-watching her Cloth to Cloth workshop- a path.  

    And begin, again...

    It seemed to fall together so easily. 

    The weaving will continue in and lengthen out of the white cloth.

    I can't tell you how good it felt.  Forget to eat-stretch-call people back-or start dinner good.

    I remembered the joy of those early days in this community, Jude's generous sharing, the excitement of learning a new way to be with cloth, getting to know many of you, the photo of Grace up on the ladder stitching into her huge cloth weaving for her daughter, finding my own way with cloth while holding hands in this circle... it was filling.

    It's so good to feel the glow of autumn again.

 

What I can do...

        Yesterday, after waking up at 4am from fretful nightmares about Blue, I tossed and turned until 5:30 trying to decide whether he should come home for the holidays or not.  There have been so many discussions and debates between the four of us about it.  I finally realized that if it was an ok thing to be doing, it wouldn't be this hard to decide.  What was I thinking?  I am a rule follower.  I should have known that the nagging in the back of my head was not going to go away.  Delirious, I fell back asleep until K. woke up.  We talked it over, and it was decided.  He called Blue, and I cried as I drove myself to the dentist.  (There were several other weepy moments.  Moon was at a bit of a loss during one of the spiraling down episodes.  I heard K. say to him, "Get used to it, this is how it's going to be for a couple of weeks.")

    Last night a friend sympathetically texted, "It sucks to be smart."  It does.

    So, Christmas needs to be mailed to Michigan.  I always make an ornament for each of the guys, and today Blue's was stitched.  The  rosy ground is leftover flannel from his baby blanket.

    It was the very first thing I ever made for a maybe-someday baby, about five years before Blue came along.  Really, I didn't know if I wanted kids, but I did want to practice the recently learned crocheted edging.  When I showed the finished blanket to K. that evening, he worriedly wondered if I was trying to tell him something?  

    "Well, if I am, you'd better start looking a whole lot happier!"

    To his credit, he was ready to have a baby before I was, and beside himself with happiness with each pregnancy.

    We last saw Blue when he was home for the holidays a year ago.  There may be a road trip this spring.  I don't want to miss seeing him be 22. 

    In the meantime, Christmas needs to go in a box.  There are cookies to bake...

golden

    Still playing with Deb's yellows, combined here with a few of this summer's indigos and a scrap of that beloved old dress (story here).  This bit still held the hem stitching holes in it.  They've been honored with a few of Jude's thread beads running alongside of them.

    My new first thing in the morning exercise (while the oatmeal cooks).  Sitting at the table with eyes closed, pencil marks are made inside of a taped off space while listening and feeling.  Afterwards there is painting and redrawing the pencil lines with a pen.

    This morning the smoke had cleared enough to open the windows, but I think the birds were still staying sheltered and safe.  It's only been four days, but I'm really loving this.

    There's also been a little work at color mixing- creating the secondary colors from the primaries.  Purple is the hardest for me.  Color wheels are great- for looking at and for using.  It's also swell to be able to make my own tools.

    Other than moons, yellow doesn't have a big spot in my world, but this cloth is singing stories.