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.)

Joy

    We strolled through the local botanical gardens for our anniversary afternoon. 

   A place we've gone often.  A place with memories of good and rocky times, alone and with the boys.  K likes the dahlias, for me it's the water features and wispy meadow like spots.  An old timer made a cheesy jokey compliment to me.  Something my dad would have done.  It made me roll my eyes and smile.

    "Asra" meaning "nighttime journey".

    Speaking of journeys... I'm off for the next bunch of days to attend/assist another workshop with Christine Mauersberger.  I'm looking forward to days of making and soaking in inspiration, to sitting still, spending time thinking and wondering, gathering some thoughts and sense of where I am and might want to go.  It's a tall order for a few days, but a soul can dream.

Seas & Season

"From the Deep"

"Twilight Sea"

"Song of Sea & Sky"

    A sea stitching did happen, with thanks to ThreadCrumbs, Deb, and Tina for sharing their dyeing expertise in the moon, threads, and cloth.  It was nice to do a series, exploring a few wave ideas, and peacefully stitch thoughts of the ocean.  They happened after Moon was delivered to college and K went to visit family for a few days.

    Alone for the first time in a month!  It was swell.  I did miss him in the evenings, but the days... I got so much done, including fall cleaning (which is when I get the urge, rather than spring).  The timer was set for 45 minutes of stitching, then 15 for cleaning.  It worked wonders.  The kitchen counter was completely cleared, weeded, and rearranged.   The flour and sugar canisters are now at the other end of the kitchen, shocking but true.  Isn't it funny how things get set up and rarely change?  The bathroom was scrubbed, boxes were emptied, the studio room floor was found under piles, boxes, baskets, and books that were put away.  A carload went to donations, and a few bags of art supplies were taken to the local elementary school.  K says that he should go away more often.  I said, no, just back to work.  (Both of our fingers are crossed that it will be next week.)

"Spell Gathering"

    This piece and I went round and round.  It was ripped apart twice before we came to an understanding.  I wasn't listening.

    Yesterday was the first day cool enough for wool socks.  I love autumn.

So many feelings

 

"Moon Memories"

    Sunday's smokey sunset.  Glad the air is clear again.

    K. is getting about unaided, feeling pretty good, off all the meds except Tylenol, sleep is improving, and can put on his own cursed compression socks!

    Detail of "So Many Things," a piece that was started almost two years ago.  I've thrown myself back into stitching this week.  It feels good to be stitching for hours again.

    Moon is packing up for his sophomore year of college.  A tutoring job in the math department is waiting for him.  As is an apartment with friends. The plan is to stay until their degrees are done, including summers.  He says he's probably never going to live here again, and so he's putting his life into boxes that will move to the basement or go with him.

    I'm having a whole variety of mom feelings, all over the spectrum.  The last few days have been challenging.  Two more to go.  Neither of us is great with change.  I've seen growth on both of our parts.  I really am trying to trust that it's all good, or at least good enough.  If nothing else, the room will get a long overdue cleaning.

    The "Samar" tree token, the name means 'evening conversations'.

    Detail of "Magic Sky".

    I'm craving the ocean again.  Time to stitch some sea.

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.

Floating & Flow

    This was started in the few quiet moments of last weekend, in between hours of this...

    Blue Angels.  They roar over our house for four days- two of them practicing, and then two days of shows for Seattle's Seafair every August.  One of the silver linings of the pandemic was the event being cancelled for two years, but they came back.  They can be seen out of any window in the house.  Sometimes so low that you can make out the writing on the sides.  The house shakes, my brain shakes, the cat runs.

    We went to the co-op to escape.  The display of currants beside apples and strawberries was beautiful.

"An Exuberance"

    Fresh indigo dyed silk on Tina's midnight purple above Deb's fiery cloth.  It felt like a party.

    And this one, started yesterday.  Often it all comes down to what scraps are scattered closest.  It began with the pink arc.  I was thinking rainbow, but then went looking for a moon.  This is one of Jude's, beneath a starry gift also from her... and then the two small scraps by Deb and Maiwa were within reach...

    Sometimes everything finds each other, reaches out and connects in ways that feel outside of me, a kind of floating into place.

Many kinds of stories

"Maybe a Lot of Things"

    I'm liking these longer cloths lately.  Space for more layers of the story, but not overwhelming.

    We went to Oregon for the weekend.  To visit family.  I spent most of the days with my mom.  Her days are so different now, without her husband, or the need to care for him.  There is so much time in a day when life suddenly empties of all you know. 

    We spent some time driving through my hometown (she lives in the city next-door now).  We stopped by to visit her best friend, who still lives next door to the house that I grew up in from age five until 18, when I left home.  The photo above is how it looks now.  It feels too wide open and lifeless to me.  My bedroom was there at the top.  I used to crawl out onto the roof on summer evenings.

    This is how it was... (photo taken as it was being sold when I was 24).  Blue (Mom's choice), the split log fence Mom built to keep us and the neighbor kids from riding our bikes over the corner, and the two big trees on either side of the corner.  A lot happened in that house.  Seeing it makes me want to weep from many kinds of sadness.

    When all of the leaves were picked off, the indigo stems were put into water.  Look at all of the new leaves!  They continue to grow above the stitching table among small stories- the ship in a bottle (it appeared when I was cleaning off my shelves to leave my teaching job), a bluebird from Blue, a clay "piece of mind" made by Moon when I told him I wish I had "peace of mind". 

    In the works, with a moon from Jude.  What goes under the arch, I'm not sure yet? It feels like a place where stories might meet.

Sweltry

    "Mirabel"- meaning "wonderous."  The vibrant colors in Tina's dyed cloths and Deb's threads are wondrous.

    Results of the second harvest from Deb's plants.  Most of the cloth was originally off-white to pale brown from walnuts, making the results lean to the greenish blues.

    Seattle has joined the heatwave happening for almost everyone.  This tub made all the difference while stitching this afternoon.  (Please excuse the dirty feet.)  There are larger containers of water freezing for tomorrow, so it will last longer.  I am a big baby about heat.  Yep, yep, I am. 

    Last night I melted fell asleep on the couch right after dinner, 7 pm.  Woke up two hours later and went straight to bed after spraying myself and the sheets with a water bottle.  Waking at 3 am when the screen fell out of the window and jumping out of bed at 6 to open all of the doors and windows that will open in this old house.

    There I've whined.  I will try to make it the only time this season.  No promises.

    A couple of other things that are not quite finished or named yet.

    There was something else I wanted to think and write about, but it has dripped out of my brain.

Some things I've seen & done

    A week ago I was at The Gorge Amphitheatre for the Lumineers concert.  Two and half hours of driving each way, 27,000+ people, 93°... NOT the kind of thing I do.  BUT, it was with a good friend, who had bought the tickets pre-pandemic, and invited me.  ALSO, my cousin is part of their crew (that's him in the shadows below).  We hardly knew each other growing up but connected instantly at the gathering for my dad a few years back.

    Her tickets were for a spot on the grass on the upper hillside, which would have been fine.  Luckily, my cousin arranged for us to hang out in the VIP lounge with cold drinks, food and air conditioning, and then with him in the band/crew catering tent with more air conditioning and a beautiful view of the gorge.  When the sun was setting and cooling, and the opening acts were done, we followed him through the backside of the stage to the seats that he had arranged- 12th row aisle!  The show was great, and seeing my cousin was even better.  Such a nice, smart and cool guy, and family. 

    We got home at 2:30 am.  It was worth it, but I may be getting too old for this sort of thing!

    Stitching- things are slowly happening (three weeks post covid focus is still hard).  Little things make me really happy.  The way the Threadcrumbs moon color reflect Deb's cloth below.  And that thin scrap of pink cloth that was tangled in the thread basket that wanted to become a hill/arch/rainbow...

    And the hot pink scrap of Tina's dye work that balanced out the top edge.
“Alchemy in Moonlight”

Slowly

    Covid or not, Deb's indigo plants were ready to be harvested.  The alchemy of squishing leaves, salt and cloth into blue was pure magic.

    I am going so slowly these days.  Is malaise the right word?  Melancholy?  A lack of oomph, or even desire, to move and or do anything.  There are windows of energy spurts and I try to take advantage of them.  The bathroom did get cleaned.  Some stitching is happening.

    There is good news about K's surgery.  There was a cancellation, and he was at the top of the waitlist, so now it will happen at the end of August instead of November.  Counting the days until he will be out of pain.

    Houses, jars and bottles are showing up.  Even when the initial intent was something else.

    Two friends and I went on a day trip yesterday to visit our friend and former boss (my Iowa friend).  She is 86 now and starting to slip away in many ways.  She was younger than me when we met, it seems a lifetime ago.  While talking with her lovely caregiver, I realized that she only knows who she is now, not the strong, opinionated, sharp as a box of tacks, force of a woman that we have known over the decades.  She's still full of light and spirit.  Seeing her is wonderful and sad.

    There are so many things that I wish I could hold on to.