handstories

Time

    This was begun last month with beautiful blues from Jude.  It was a good place to rest.

    On Tuesday eve, while scrolling through photos on my phone, a photo of my Iowa friend popped up.  It was her senior high school portrait, taken over sixty years ago.  "Why is this here?" I wondered, and then created a new album of "Favorites" to put it in so that I wouldn't lose track of it.  K. and I talked about her for a few minutes. 

    A friend and I had gone to visit her a couple of weeks ago.  Time has been taking her piece by piece over the last few years, but still her delight and joy in spending time with us shined through.  It was a lovely sad visit.  Yesterday I received word that she had died on Tuesday night.  I will miss her dearly.  I loved it when she called me "Honeybun".  The "Iowa" category will tell you more about her, but this post sums our friendship up best.

    Twinkle has taken a turn, new meds, more "waiting and seeing" for a couple of weeks.

    More nightmares... at first I thought that they were frogs, but no.  The spiders were beautiful and terrifying.

    I keep saying (and feeling) that things are really fine, and they are.  I'm just out of words right now. Life slips by sometimes.

    "Everything Became Home"

(Golden pink moon cloth dyed by Tina.)

Never a Dull Moment

    Deb's cloth made for an earthy hill on blackberry-ish purples by Tina, with a small scrap of the starry cloth K. gifted me for Christmas twenty-five years ago in anticipation of baby Blue.

    There was a bit more boat mending in the wind and the cold under a daylight moon.

    In an effort to maybe, just maybe, get this quilt done in time, I keep it on my lap while stitching for the shop.  Whenever there is a bit of thread left in the needle, it goes into the quilt.  Sometimes it's only a few stitches, but that keeps things interesting.

    Speaking of interesting... There was an evening at my friend's condo this weekend.  They live near a hospital and a couple of nursing homes, so sirens are common.  But suddenly there was siren after siren...

    We looked out the window to see that the street was full the length of two blocks and around the corner of her building.

    Across the street an old, abandoned house.

    We spent the next hours watching out their windows.  The hours were also spent with fond and fearful memories of my dad's decades as a fire fighter. 

    The house is still standing, without some of the roof and floors.

    "It's never a dull moment around here!" I commented.  We laughed at the crazy their world seems to be full of these days.  Over there again last night, we talked about how pretty the fire actually was, especially at one point when snow was falling.  We thought it could be their Christmas card... "Our world is on fire, and still beautiful... Merry Christmas!"  We laughed some more.  Laughter is such good medicine.

    And so is stitching! (More of Deb and Tina's dyeworks.)

Six of One

    There was a day of halves this week, the day before yesterday...

    It started with half a night's sleep from worrying that I wouldn't wake up in time to go help my friends early in the morning. 

    Halfway to their place, it began to snow.  Parking near their condo is a challenge.  Found a place a block away.  Got halfway down the alley towards their building and realized I forgot something...twice.

 

    Once there, it was snowing harder.  Plans were abandoned.  So, I headed back home.  Taking advantage of the snowfall and throwing in a few half-truths, I canceled an unwelcomed dentist appointment for the afternoon.  The snow stopped soon after, and half of it melted away by the time of the appointment, I didn't call back.

 

    Stitched half a piece, did half of the laundry, watched half of a movie, and then halfway through the day, took half of the friends' stuff that was filling up half of our living room down to the basement, took a half an hour nap.

K came home, asked why I'd only taken care of putting half of the bread into the freezer, leaving the other loaf on the counter?  Made a half-hearted mediocre at best dinner.

 

    At half-past seven, half-way through a show, the power went out, with an ETA of 2am for repairs, half of the night.  Realizing that the leftover half of dinner was still on the counter, and not wanting to open the fridge, the container was put on the porch in the 36-degree weather.  Giving up on the day, I was in bed at 7:44. 

 

    Half an hour later, half asleep, the power came back on.  I got up, washed half of the dishes, and we watched the other half of the show.  As if nothing had happened.

Two weeks out

    Stitched the morning before surgery.  Anxiety reflected in the clash of patterns.

    And another round of surgical gown stitching happened.  For luck and love.

    Once we were at the hospital, Jude's gifts of blue carried me through.  All went as well as it could.

    Unfortunately, on K's first morning home, I went outside to fetch the newspaper and locked myself out.  Fortunately, Moon's window upstairs was open, he was only half asleep, and heard me calling.

    Time became charted and managed.  Nighttime prep to make things easier.  Sleep in one to three hour pieces brought back memories of having a newborn again.  Without the joy.  Myriad systems were created.  Some more useful than others.

    Nursing is not my calling.  More of a Nurse Ratchet sort (There are not enough swear words to say how much I hate putting compression socks on another person.).  While I may lack some bedside manner... all of the meds, exercises, walking laps that are supposed to happen, do happen on my watch.

    There was an audiobook being listened to in the first week.  There were seven attempts to hear the last thirty minutes of it, but I kept falling asleep.  I finally gave up and assumed that they all lived happily ever after.

 

    Painted for the first time in I don't know when.

    Quilting didn't happen, but there has been lots of knitting.  Because it can be picked up for a few stitches without much thought and it can be done with closed eyes.

 

    Three days ago, I finally picked up a needle again.

    And then again.  K had a great checkup today, walking without support a little bit, and last night there were five hours of sleep IN A ROW.  Joy.

Not a vacation

    Had planned to take the week off from shop making. Moon was starting his summer job. After a couple of weeks, I was going to have the house to myself during the days. I was going to work on personal projects- weaving the other side of that quilt, start an indigo vat, work on gifts, catch up on blogs, clear some of the cloth chaos...

    Monday was lovely but felt pretty tired by evening.

    Tuesday morning.  I don’t remember much else about Tuesday or Wednesday.  There is a cloth by Jude hanging over the bed in the studio room.  Every so often I would reach above my head and touch the cloth and stitches, there's blue velvet in it, a comfort.

    There was a dream that Grace called.  Facetimed. Her image became a hologram, 3-D and life size. Reaching out, expecting my hand to pass through her arm, I was able to grab hold, and suddenly she was there!  “We can all be together!” I said, “The whole Circle!”

    A wonderful dream. 

Thursday's Instagram post...

Sickbed post (Day 3):

1. Cozy knees (the only cloth I’ve been near).

2. Sad lonely workspace.

3. Sickbed post (literally, ha ha).

 

Grateful for a bed in my stitching room, best quarantine view in the house (outside, not my messiness inside.)  Husband went down today, Moon is double masked & hiding in his room, holding onto hope. Very glad we are all boosted.  Feeling a smidge better this eve. Might try sitting up tomorrow… maybe lift a needle… 

 

    Friday, I sat up the whole day (in bed).  Stitched a few squares with Tina’s dyed cloths.  K is already feeling better. Just a bad cold for him. His double boosting worked, I think.  Amazingly, Moon is still the last man standing. 

    “Recovery” painted at dusk last night.  Exhausted, but so much better.  Hope everyone is well out there.  Time for a nap, oxo.

A Rainbow Forest

    Where does the time go?  To plumbing (fingers crossed that it's finally over and the jack hammer NEVER returns), birthday, fetching Moon from college to home for his spring break, trip to Oregon to visit family, hayfever meds, ...

    A blue moon birthday cloth with a Threadcrumb moon, bits of Deb G.'s indigo silk and Deb L.'s dyeing in the moon, a patch of cloth leftover from Blue's baby quilt, and the top right piece is cyanotype fabric that had seed beads scattered on it while being exposed.

    A birthday selfie à la Jude.  Unlike Jude, I stepped into the shadows of the bathroom (where the only mirrors are.  Somebody really should wash that mirror, and repaint everything, especially the poor old door).

    There's been some stitching on that quilt that was started last fall.  It was nice to spend some hours with it, long lines of not so small stitches.  It's almost time to extend it with more cloth weaving.  I am going about this quite cattywampusly, making it up as I go, and not caring one whit.

    I'm not sure if it was the birthday distractions, the traveling, or the start of hay fever season, but when all of the finished pieces for Thursday's shop update were gathered, I was surprised to see a small forest of tokens.  I don't remember making this many!  I do remember thinking how great they are for experimenting with color combinations and a way to try new (uncomfortable) colors (I'm talking to you, Yellow).  Tina and Deb's rainbow cloths and threads make it easy to step out of the comfort zone.

    More color play while listening to this free workshop.  There is much to love about color wheels.

"Holding Home"

    The houses are still coming...

"Together They Glowed"

    There's something that I'm trying to get at...  Trusting that I'll know when I get there.

Notes From the Basement

    I want to revisit some ideas from the past.  See what they might hold now. Will they mean the same things? Will they hold more? Will I even remember why I went there in the first place?  This one started with scraps on the table from recent pieces, including cloths dyed by Deb and Tina.

    (The water cloth is antique Japanese silk from Richard that I dyed in indigo years ago.)

    This is being written in The Basement.  (More about why in a moment.) The Basement is cellar-like. Uneven cement floor, ceiling that can be touched flat-footed with pipes and beams exposed, and more cobwebs than a haunted house. Not to mention all the THINGS & STUFF. 
   All to say, it’s not a comfortable relaxing place to be.  And it's cold down here.

    Some things were thrown yesterday- me, some words, a tantrum, and a spatula.

    Fortunately, K laughed through it all, took over the dinner cooking, and brought wine up from The Basement (one of its good qualities).

    There had been disappointments, frustrations and a triangle tangle of a conversation that I felt I had to scream to extricate myself from.  None of it was a big deal, I was just having A Day.

    Well, none of it was a big deal except for The Basement.  The plumbing issues are not over. It’s not the plumbers' fault. K and I took a gamble and lost.

    The Basement, where I am vigilantly babysitting the washing machine, waiting for the moments that it drains into the utility sink.  Each time switching out the buckets that I've placed under the hose, alternating them as they fill, and running them out the back door to pour into the woods.  Repeating this activity over and over so that the water doesn’t overflow out of the new drain in the floor into a 6-foot-wide puddle across the new cement.  The drain and cement that will need to be jackhammered out again to fix the problem.

"A Place of Through"

    Today I am resigned and resolved about it all, while running buckets to and fro.

    Earlier, I thoroughly enjoyed the process of finishing this piece.  Hours and hours of stitching without direction, filling in crevices between stones, beside starlit water... switching from French knots to Jude's thread beads willy-nilly, enjoying the surprise of color changes in Deb's threads, and nothing has been thrown... yet.

    "The day's not over," as Dad would've said.

Choosing

    Putting one piece with another, more proof that everything is all part of the same story.

    Last summer a friend, an old neighbor, who I miss having across the street almost every day, dropped off this blue garden sphere.  I love it.  It shimmers in the moonlight and glows in the sunshine.

    Generally, I'm the first one to point out all of the possible problems that might happen in a situation, making me seem gloom and doom-ish to some.  (I like to think of it as being prepared.)  But really, deep down, I do think that things generally can work out with enough thought and care. 

    K's new job was a financial adjustment.  Absolutely manageable, but not the more carefree comfort that his corporate position had provided.  (Have I said what his job is?  Just in case- it's at a foodbank warehouse.  Where truckloads of donations are sent, sorted, repacked, and then local foodbanks come to gather goods to take back to their communities.  He coordinates volunteers, organizes, etc., and drives a forklift (I can't tell you how much he enjoyed learning to do this!))  Not long after he started working there, in an effort to reduce waste, they opened up an area stocked with expiring and excess goods for employees to take home.  It's been great!  Eggs, milk, organic produce, things that we've never tried (the red curry soup above for one).  You never know what might be there... anything from ricotta to the occasional bunch of roses...  

    There have been so many unexpected gifts from this life shift.

    The Christmas cactus has a bud of hope.

"She Chose Starlight"

Forward...

"The Night's Blue Magic"

    Regarding taxes- I hate feeling stupid, it helped that K (an accounting major) wasn't able to figure out the problem either.  A very patient soul, on the other end of the state taxes helpline, held my hand and walked me through the issue.  Notes were taken, in hopes that next year might be the one without tax tears (a person can dream).

    The ER bill arrived yesterday.  I can't even wrap my head around how those numbers are real?  How is this ok?  Combined with the plumbing work, what an expensive month January was.  Today I am just being grateful that we have resources and am moving on...

    Maybe because of this, I'm working harder at being disciplined with my time and stitching.  Routines work for me, so I'm trying to keep to a schedule. This is mostly easy, because I love it.  Now, if only some headway on the business side of things can be made.  Not so easy, but it will be better in the long run if I can just sit down and make myself figure some things out.  I also need to make myself get up and stretch more!

"Hesper" Tree Token

    A piece of all of this is thinking of stitching as a job, which plays mind games on me, spinning me back and forth between joy and weirdness, and even some guilt (or is it old shame?).  I worry about losing my way in it all, losing the heart of it, about valuing myself, about not being who people might think I am.

    With all of the recent trips to Oregon, time with family, I finally pushed myself to talk about my stitching, to call it "My Work" out loud.  Things about it were brought to share for the first time- pieces, the Stitch-illo book, etc.  It was hard to put myself on display with faces looking back at me.  Good and bad comments undo me.  It's fascinating and feels like drowning at the same time.

    My brother (who uses the words "I'm sorry" to begin most sentences) said, "I'm sorry, but they really feel like watercolors to me."

    "That's a wonderful thing to say, thank you!" His words filled me with joy.

    Onward...

 

"Where Dreams Begin"

    With admiration and thanks for Deb, Tina and Jude for sharing their gifts of and with cloth and thread (among other things!).

Taxing

"Twilight in Pink"

Questions...

    Do I hate doing taxes more than K hates being around me doing taxes?  ("You get so angry, Angry, ANGRY!?!")

"Maia" (named for the Greek goddess of Spring)

    If only one thing on the To-Do list gets checked off, is it considered a win?  (If that one thing is "sharpen pencils" does it still count?)

"A Forgotten Dream"

    Does going for a walk, getting some exercise, justify putting off working on taxes?  (If the walk was to the wine shop, does it still count?)

    If this happens instead of working on taxes, is it considered "tax evasion"?

"On the Edge of it All"

    How is it possible that someone who took twice as many English classes than Math and still scored higher in the math category of the SATs, when faced with a simple form, be reduced to tears every single year?

    (Really, I'm fine, and the pencils need sharpened again...)