handstories

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.)

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.

More turquoise, & tea

    First fresh indigo experiment using the salt method.  Two leaves, some salt, and a scrap of cotton (it already had some iron or walnut smudges on it) and of silk.  Enjoyed the process and results very much, thanks again, Deb!

    Played with one in my dream that night.  Something I always wanted as a kid (along with Colorforms), but never got.

    While working on the turquoise patchwork from the last post, I thought about hot pink and orange.  The next day a friend handed me this beautiful silk scarf that had accidently been chewed up by her washing machine.

    It was just the right thing.

    The green side of turquoise with shimmering velvet.  Her name is "Opal".

    Someone shared the story of when their husband first said, "I love you."  A very romantic mountain top moonlit moment.  Which triggered my own memories... I said it first to K.  Sixteen, New Year's Eve, got up my gumption and blurted out, "I realize that I love you!" 

    His reply, "That's great!"  (Heart swelled with hope.)  "I realized that I love L.!"  (Deflation of heart.)  "Isn't this great, all of this love going on!"

    No.  No, it was not great, but I put on a cheery face, bided my time (knowing that L. was not interested in him), and got my declaration four months later.  Boys.

 

    Speaking of boys.  Moon has been home a week.  He is so in love with math.  There are pieces of paper like the above scattered throughout the house, representing his attempts at sharing this passion with us.  It may as well be written in ancient Greek.  He doesn't understand that we don't understand, so we nod and smile with awe.

    It's been good to spending time with Moon, having long conversations, hearing what he's thinking about (besides math), and it's been really useful too. 

    K. has been struggling with arthritis in his hip, and the fall last January pushed it all downhill.  Replacement surgery is scheduled (The first available appointment was in November!).  The steep long staircase to the bedroom is too much for now, especially since the only bathroom is on the main floor.  I did offer to move out of my studio room, but thankfully his reply was, "There is so much wrong with that idea."  So, there's been a mattress and box spring in the living room for the last month or so.  Moon helped to move the heavy furniture into a better arrangement.  At least now the bed isn't the first thing you see when you walk in the door.

"Here in the Turquoise Sea"

    Yesterday's turquoises.  The silk waves on top of the boat were the same as the brighter back wave until they were dropped into the morning tea. 

    Stitched while singing an old family favorite from when the boys were young.  Have a listen here, I'll bet you'll be humming too...

    "...They play on the beaches the colour of peaches, there by the turquoise sea, oh, my...under a blue, blue sky..."

Hoping

"Holding Hope"

Week in Review ***

(*** Friends of ours eat all of their leftovers on the weekends, they call it "Week in Review".)

"Circles Held Her"

    Unexpectedly, the houses are still coming.  I want to learn some photo collage skills, to create a village of these stories of home for myself.

    The evening birds seem much more contented than the morning ones.  More songlike, rather than desperate "Let's get going!" tweets.  Remembering the mornings of hungry little ones and the rush to get everyone everything and out the door on time.

    LOTS of Jude's thread beads happening.

    Sometimes I end up feeling dotty from them.  Deb's thread and cloth must have had the same dye recipe, and Tina's yellow framing cloth is the icing on the cake.

    I've been listening to books from the library while I stitch these days.  Finished a lovely middle reader Caribbean fairy-sea-tale yesterday, A Comb of Wishes, and am now partway into Cloud Cuckoo Land.  What a change in required concentration level!

    A boat stitched while thinking of dearest friend who is out at sea for the next couple of weeks.  She leads a life of adventure with new experiences and people at every turn- a glittering existence.  In my quiet lamp lit corner, I sometimes wonder how we found and held onto each other over the last twenty plus years?

    Walking through Seattle in springtime, it's hard to remember to watch where you're going.  I'm often tripping over the sidewalk cracks or getting dizzy from craning my neck to the sky and tree tops.

    On Earth Day, someone on Instagram posted their visit to Walden's Pond.  I was there 24 years ago last January with K., visiting my sister, and six months pregnant with Blue.  The pond was frozen over.  I stepped out onto the ice so that I could say that I was on Walden's Pond.  K and my sister's guy stood on shore shouting at me to, "Bring the baby back on land!"

"Itzel" Mayan for "rainbow".

    Wishing you all a colorful week of glittery things.

Heading into Winter

"Hope"

    The days whirl by.

    A friend and I headed over the pass.  What a surprise to see snow.  My head hasn't caught up with the season.

    The other side, central Washington, the Columbia River.

    I love this river.  Growing up, we drove an hour's ride along the Gorge where it divides Oregon and Washington every month or two.  Sometimes stopping at Bonneville Dam, the fish hatchery, and/or Multnomah Falls, eventually, crossing the Bridge of the Gods to the Washington side, to visit our dear Great Aunt Peggy, the entire family's favorite relative.

"Sea Songs"

    Stitching as much as I can... because it fills me in many ways.

    There was a bunch of tiring time spent with screens and words the last couple of weeks- figuring out shop things.  Business thinking is NOT my cup of tea, it sucks energy and civilized behavior out of me (ask K.).  All I want to do is stitch, but I suppose it's good to stretch my brain with unfamiliar thinking.  Of course, I have spent much more time and energy avoiding some of these things over the last months than the actual deciding and dealing with actually took.  Fingers crossed that all the ducks, cows and hedgehogs are in a row now.

"Ayana"

    (These pieces and a few others will be in the shop tomorrow, November 12th.)

Comforts of home

"The Wonderland of Home"

    Sometimes, while working on a piece, I scribble down thoughts.  "Home, moon, window, making, light, heart, shine, through lines, woven, tending, care... where is home, there is home, home stories, homemaker, maker of home..." were the words that came while stitching this cloth.  There was a lot of joy in the making of this one.

   

    Home has been even more of a comforting space lately.  K and I are settling into new routines now that it's just the two of us again.  Memories of our first fifteen years without kids float around.  There is so much less to do for just the two of us, except the chores.  Although, there is a lot less to clean without two boys coming and going.  We've been divvying up the jobs that first Blue, and now Moon have left behind.  I was embarrassed to discover that I didn't know how to work the vacuum!  In my defense, Blue and Moon have done the weekly vacuuming for the last decade or so, and I do sweep.  Confessing my homemaker deficiency to K, and adding that I hate vacuuming (lugging the contraption from the basement stairs, the noise, the hassle of changing the attachments, etc.), I was thrilled when he said that he enjoyed it!  Hallelujah!  I have willingly taken over the litter box instead.

    And today, a new boat beginning.  I always come back to them.  They're a comfort, too.  A kind of centering and symbol of going.  A reminder of who I am, or might be.

Gathering light

"How it Would Be"

    A thin moon layer of Heike's dyed silk allows Deb's wonder cloth to shine through.

"Unexpected Rainbows"

    Bigger than usual, 9" x 7".  More of Deb's cloth sailing in the breeze.

    My favorite spot.

    Life is in a tunnel right now, but there are a couple of lights twinkling at the end of it. 

    Spectrums.

    I have the hardest time photographing paintings.  The light is rarely right.

    Two friends, by two favorite artists.  "Story" made by Cathy Cullis many years ago (resting in a bluebird tea cup that matches one belonging to a dear friend.  She gave it to me so that we could imagine having tea together anytime), and a painting by Amanda Blake, "She Kept Herself Safe".  It was a rare spontaneous instantaneous purchase a few years ago.  I named her "Lucinda," and just looked up the meaning- light, of course.  They are across the table directly in front of me as I stitch.  Keeping company and an eye on things.  There are a few more friends here, but these two are giving me meaningful looks today

    The teacup friend texted today, "Are you ok?" 

        "Nope.  But trying to be."

"Gathering Light"

   Or "Audrey the Third" if you're Dee (ha, inside joke).  A Threadcrumb moon, deep purple wave by Tina and the sky, and reverse-side patch in the bottom corner, are a Maiwa cloth.

    Not a lot of stitching over the last days.  A little mending and plenty of wondering about all kinds of things, with some anxieties added into the mix.

    I started digging through the studio shelves.  Filled three bags- garbage, recycling and donations.  A small dent.

    Found a few piles of quilt starts, including some that I have no memory of.  Wondering if I can just close my eyes and stitch the odds and ends together?  Make them into blankets of some sort?  Useful, if nothing else.

    One very long night with a mosquito circling around my head.  Even under the quilt I could hear its whining.  There wasn't much sleep the next night either.  In fact, I was having a really good dream, movie star included.  Just as it was about to get good, I told him I was too tired, that I couldn't keep my eyes open, and fell asleep in dreamland, only to wake up in real life even more exhausted.  Drat.

 

    Looking for something to do, that would require no thoughts, I pulled out the spinning wheel.  So much dust.  Honestly, why I forget how much I love to spin, I don't know.

    The glow of yellow skies from the wild fires came back for a couple of days.  We're lucky that the air quality has stayed good.

    Last night there were two brief rain showers.  I ran outside to stand in it.  Hoping for real rain on Friday.

    Today- wave work.  Not how I usually go about starting a piece.  Rarely plan so much out at the beginning.  It's also a little bigger (9x6") than the usual 4" squares.  Not sure where it's going from here...

Sailing, cinnamon rolls & moon dreaming

"She Journeyed On"

    When I found this tiny ship in a bottle on my basement shelves in the school I was leaving after 23 years... I didn't think twice about keeping it.  Whoever it belonged to before, clearly the universe meant it for me.  It was time to set sail... 

    I wonder if I'll ever stitch such a grand ship (or be able to?)

    How many candles can you fit on a cinnamon roll?

    Nineteen.

    For Moon.  

    We were glad for the decision to only put the candles on one roll!

    I'm the only one in the house who still asks for a cake.

    The tiniest of scraps can make a world.

    There was a fall on the front porch two days ago- stepping down the front porch stairs with arms full of damp laundry to put out on the drying racks, turning around to reclose the door that hadn't quite latched, tripping over the now trailing bedsheet in shoes that were too loosely tied...

    Falling so slowly that there was time to wonder if I could catch myself, or would I go off the edge of the porch taking the window boxes with me, or maybe (as the stumble picked up speed and turned into a tumble) go through the screen door, and most importantly a quick prayer to the sky that no one was coming up or down the sidewalk and that none of the neighbors were looking out of their windows. 

    All the while fumbling to get my hands untangled from the laundry to stop the plummeting off of the porch.  One hand got free in time to grab the screen and push it into the watering can, jar, etc. that later needed retrieved out of the ferns below.  I landed in a full out sprawl-splat, knocking the flower boxes a few inches over the edge, but not off.  Banged and bruised, but grateful that there was only the cat as a witness.  Still quite sore, but the bruises are getting pretty.  Just don't bounce like I used to.

    Friends are sailing out on the ocean, with experienced friends to help them on their first sea trip.  Hoping they're gaining confidence, and that I'll be able to have a turn soon....  They left Portland on Friday and will reach Point Roberts (the tiny tip of the U.S. that's attached to Canada) by Tuesday.  With the help of a find-my-friend feature on the phone, I'm able to see about where they are, and was excited and envious while watching them cross the bar from the Columbia River onto the Pacific.  It's such a beautiful powerful spot where the river meets the sea.

    Dreaming of a moonlit sail...

"Moon Dreams in Blue"