handstories

Tending the Mending

    It started with this blanket last week, a well-used gift from my sister some years ago.  It was originally stitched with only white thread, but after years of use and washing, many ends had worked their way out.  They were replaced with lots of colors, and I think I like it even more now.

    Then came this guy...

    A childhood buddy of a good friend.

    Poor thing.

    He got worse before he got better.  First wool was stuffed into the vacant eye sockets.  Referencing an old photo, new eyes, nose, tongue, and belly button happened.  It was hard maneuvering.  Especially the eyes.  The fabric and foam stuffing are old and disintegrating.  It felt like surgery.

    Before handing him over, I warned that he would not stand up to being played with by a child.  Her reply, "Only fity plus year old women want to hang out with his kind."

    I wish I had a photo of her face when I pulled him out of the bag.  She was so happy to see her old friend again.

    Next came this old, stained baby quilt belonging to the same friend.  I've had it for over a year.  It was made from a kit in 1941 for her mom.  Fear of hurting the quilt kept me from facing it, but I was on a mending roll...

    Cutting away the stained cloth was the scariest part.

    I tried just putting the patch over the stain, but it showed through.

    She came out all right, I think.  Silly thing.

    And here's the thing I'm thinking about... I love stitching the story cloths that I usually make- the process, not knowing where the story might go, just following inspirations, playing, and what if's. 

    BUT, there is something about mending... I tell people that it sometimes feels like a superpower, bringing something back to life, back to usefulness.  There is such satisfaction in it.  It lifts my spirit and feeds my love of being (inner need to be) useful.  Whichever, I love mending.

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.

Snow, Sister & Stitch

    A surprise for Seattle this morning!  We woke to ten inches, and it's still falling...

 

    It's also my sister's birthday today, and her gift arrived on time!

    Often I bring along mending supplies when I visit her in Rhode Island, stitching up a jacket elbow, shirt sleeve, whatever...

    Not knowing when I might be able to tend her mending again, I made this little mending kit for her based on a sweet pattern by Ann Wood (find it here).

    Stocked with possible patches and thread in her colors, pins, needles, etc.

    She doesn't enjoy mending like I do, but at least she'll be able to... or there will be supplies ready for my next visit.

Mending days

    Yesterday there was darning of my knitted socks and K's sport socks.  My socks were more fun to mend than white cotton socks.  I like making the mends visible, adding to the story.

    There was a cathartic dream of seeing a friend...we had the longest hug while weeping over all that has happened this last year.

    My mending isn't professional or always pretty.  Here's the latest patch to my very thin, worn out but loved polka-dot pjs.  Soon they will be more patch than polka-dot.  I should take more care and time with this project, but I don't, just trying to keep them together enough for folks not to see more of me than they should.

    Hopefully my mending is practical.  I do love doing it.  It feels like I'm beating the odds, a kind of super power.  I know it isn't, but to those who don't pick up needle and thread it appears that way, and I'm not going to tell them otherwise.

    Last night I realized that a couple of weeks ago I somehow skipped a bunch of pages in my painting book, that will need some mending now, too.

    There were also a few holes in a friend's skirt.  Black on black is hardest.

wonderings

    How small could they be and still look like trees?

    What if stars really were this big?

    Why did it take so long to spend only one evening stitching a strip of fabric to the bottom of a too-short sheet, so that it can stay tucked in all night?

    What kind of seam is this?  (I thought it was a sloppy french seam, but after quick research, it seems (ha) not.)

    Why are buttercups so delightful?

    How it's possible to get lost in a small moon for hours?

Change of pace

    It has been a good, and unusually social week with lovely interesting people, and this introvert is on overload.  

    Stitching was even a struggle.  I managed to patch my jeans, badly.   

    A green sock was finished.  

    Sunday was wedding dress shopping with best woman friend (which proves how much I love her, because I didn't even do this for my own wedding).  Her criteria is- Not white, not slutty, and a little funky (she's hoping to make certain folks roll their eyes).  

    On the third trip out, I laid my hands on the two latest possibilities, saying, "One of these will be IT," because definitely none of the others had been.  Hallelujah, she looks good in both of them.  She just needs to choose, and then we'll start shopping for mine...sigh.

    A purple sock was started, because the green was just not doing it for me.  

    On Tuesday, K. very nicely offered to drive the five hours, to and from, to meet up with the women I'm having the art show/sale with in December.  Stressed about catching the ferry, and all of the unknowns of hosting a show, and tired out from teenager issues, and, and,...  When he made a wrong turn, I shouted at him, in near tears, "I am coming unglued!"

    He offered to bus home from the ferry and let me drive myself.  I apologized, and regrouped.  Eventually.

    Yesterday there was a little watercoloring.  Making these jewels is meditative and calming.

    There was also a haircut, long overdue inches and inches were cut off, in hopes of feeling a bit more presentable in the world.  We'll see.    

    Today, I so enjoyed Jude's latest entry in her Patchwork in Perspective class.  Her "skatchwork" technique was just the ticket to get things percolating again.  A very good brain and needle stretch.

    I also tried to figure out the best public transportation route to get to the airport on time tomorrow with the same friend.  After much thinking and rethinking, and sending her the plan, it became clear we should just meet there.  As I like to have plenty of time to spare, to avoid the stress from fear of missing a flight, and she will most likely come dashing in during the boarding.

    "Where will you be?" she asked.

        "Sitting at the gate, reading a book."

    "And stressing that I'm going to be late."

        "Probably."

    And, because this week hasn't been busy and odd enough for my hermit lifestyle...  

    Tomorrow morning I'm taking a bus to the light rail, to the airport, and then we're flying to Las Vegas for 24 hours.  The star is packed and coming along.  Things are wild and weird over here.

love sutures

    Good thing that bag was packed.  There was another trip to Urgent Care that day.  While waiting for the next thing to happen, out came a needle and blue thread to mark the blanket covering my friend.  "There!  You've got a kiss on you!"

    And on the sheet,

    the pillowcase,

    the curtain,

    And her sleeve.

    The stitches and photos are wonky, quickly done just in case the next doctor/nurse/CT scanner/whoever appeared.  They probably won't be noticed, and if so, maybe they'll make someone wonder, or even smile?  Or they will be unwelcome graffiti (that isn't knotted, so easily removed).

    Anyway, they helped to pass the time, and made her laugh during four stressful hours.  (And things were ok in the end.)

we do what we can

    (This is the story of the best stitching I did all week.)

    Teenage Moon asked if I could mend the knee of his jeans.  I was wary, because he likes things "just so", and because things have been strained between us lately, but very happy that he was asking (especially pleased because he had just informed me that his girlfriend can sew, but still wanted me to do it).

    I asked him if he wanted the mend to be the same color as his gray jeans, or contrasting?

        "What do you mean?"

    "A gray patch, or something very different for fun?  Like lime green?"

    Shocked at the idea, he said, "When you said contrasting, I thought you meant a black patch instead of gray."

    "Gray it is."

    So I patched in gray.  It's not perfect, but it looks good enough from a normal distance.  While finishing, I wondered if some mama love could be stitched into it, a spell for harmony and care?  Pulling out a lime green thread from the basket, and using Jude's invisible basting stitch, I put an "X" across his knee.  

    "He'll never know," I thought, "but I will."

    I put them over the back of his chair at the table.  When he came home that night, he yelled out a thanks, and then brought them into the kitchen where I was making dinner.

        "I see the lime green thread."  (Did I mention he likes things "just so" and has a great eye for details?)  Fortunately, he thought it was funny.

    "Turn them inside out," I said.  He did, and saw the "X".  "It's a kiss from your mama, some mama love for you and your knee!"

    He rolled his eyes and left the room, but there was a smile

    Heading out the door this morning, in the repaired pants, I called out, "Are you feeling the love?!"

        "Sure."

    "You mean, "Thanks, Mom, I love you, too!"?"

        "Sure, bye."  (Which is Teenager for exactly that, right?)

woven

    Going through the desktop, I came across the sweet little loom from Velma.  Weaving seemed like a good comforting idea.

    So much went wrong in the making of this little inch of shifu.  I decided to just go with it, and then the third warp thread broke.  Patched the whole thing together as best I could, or good enough anyway.  That third thread was completely lost track of.

    I'm going to love it anyway.  It's how things are.

returning & gifts

    The "Love Can Mend" pennant is back from being a part of Mo's powerful installation of love, "I Dream of a World Where Love is the Answer".  Mo's vision, talents and magic gathered together love and hope from around the world.  I wish I could have been in that room and have been surrounded by the energy of it all.

        There is some weariness going on here, just as there was in the making this, and remembering what I wrote, back in November, when sending it off to Mo, "...maybe this is how it really is.  This work and struggle for peace, healing the earth, trying to find a way through-  It doesn't usually happen because everything is a calm and hunky-dory garden of sweet peas and roses.  The ripped and rough places show us what's really going on, and call to us for mending.  For most of us, we do what we can with what we have.  Piecing together whatever kind of inner scraps we might have within.  And just maybe, all of the frayed worn bits can be brought together and worked into a kind of wholeness again."  

    While I'm sad that the gathering is over, it's been good to have it back, as a reminder that there is love and beauty in mending.

    Mo's generosity continued with the added gifts of one of her brilliant stars, bit of blue and a cloud of wedding cloth (I see some sails in there...).  And while wrapping the ties in the tree for photos, there was a sudden movement to the left, turning my head, there was a hummingbird mid-air,  eye-level, within arms reach.  We looked at each other for a split second before it zipped away, another gift.

    A heart-deep thank you to Mo and the Gathering, oxo.