handstories

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.

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...)

tax man & some trees

(Some unfinished spring thoughts.)

    It's so hard to focus on anything these days.  Just doing what needs to be done, when I remember to do it.

(The "Story" blanket is worked on every morning, half-way done.)

    I'm very glad for this blanket's bigness.  There's an endlessness to it that I'm grateful for, unlike the other eternity that seems to be going on.

(At the window, seen through the blue cloth other side.)

    It's generally ok here, sometimes I'm even grateful for the some of the calm that it's brought into the house.

(The first layer of some trees.  They don't look like this anymore.  I'm kind of sorry about that.)

    And then, there are other days, when someone asks "What's for dinner?" and I throw a recipe card at them.

(Another sign of spring.  This is the second year we've seen rabbits in the neighborhood.  They're braver this year, hopping by in daylight.)

    I can't wait to go somewhere, and even more, I can't wait for the guys to GO somewhere for a day, or a long road trip.

    Things with Rosee's letter get confusing at times.  Sentences that don't quite make sense, words I can't make out, and punctuation and capital letters being used as an art form.  I'm trying to leave some of it be, but there are limits...

    Rosee part 3:
    "I forgot to record my chat with the Income Tax Collector. He wanted to know, in a nice way, how the sole owner and proprietor of two bakeries at Roundup and Miles City could live on $300 a year. I explained that he slept upstairs and we had to pay the rent on the bakery and ate day old rolls that we threw out and fed to the bums anyway. And all I could find that he’d spent was $300. He wanted to know what the $300 was for and I told him whiskey.

    Tommy P., the little Bulgarian that Stew had hired when he came to the back door and fainted from hunger (he took it upon himself to drag him upstairs and put him to bed. Otherwise, I just dusted him like a piece of the furniture).

    When Stew came home clean and sober, he immediately took over all the purchasing again and I became the retail clerk and bookkeeper he’d hired me for. One day about the first of 1936, I noticed we had enough money to pay the rent. I said, “Stew we have enough money to pay the rent.”

    He said kind of quiet and still. “Did you say we had enough money to pay the rent?” and I said, “Yes.” He said, “Let’s pay the rent.”  I wrote the check out to our unhappy landlord and said, “Here you shall have the honor of signing it. You’ve sweat more blood about it than I have.” Stew signed it then he said, “Rosee, I’m going to carry this letter proudly down to the post office and put it in with my own lily white hands. Three years worth of rent."  And he did.

viewing blues

    There are plans for the next few days... Moon left this morning for a Thespian conference, and K. has planned a trip away for us (it's the first time in I don't know when that we've gone somewhere alone).  

    Yesterday a cold landed in my head, along with my annual pre-birthday funk, tangled up with more feelings about Dad (who's birthday is the day before mine). 

    I'm going to go pack now, take some meds, and do my best to step out of myself and try... Maybe doing something so different will shake off the cold and the past?  If nothing else, it will be lovely to sleep in the nice hotel room that was splurged on.

    Wishing us all some beautiful views this weekend...

photo bombed

    If you find you need a photo of yourself...

    Check your background.

    ...and your head.

     Check your hair.
     I repeat, check your hair.

  ...and your attitude.

    Moon gave it a whirl, but the lighting wasn't right, and he had to get to work.  So, then K. was called in... furniture was moved, door was opened for light, closed for too much light, opened again because the light changes when you do something for a couple of hours.  Different cameras were tried, cameras were adjusted (without knowledge of how to do it, just a bunch of guessing and pushing of buttons).  Tempers were lost, found, controlled.  

    Finally an acceptable one.  Sent to photo-tweaking-skilled sister, who called and said, "Could you have sent me a worse photo?!"  

    More playing with camera controls and lighting, advice from Blue (who tried to avoid the whole situation as much as possible).

    A new photo was sent, approved enough, touched up.  Another phone call.  She had done what she could, she wondered about the redness in skin tone, but quickly realized that had to do with the frustration level the model was experiencing.

    This model, she was difficult and hated having her photo taken.  Once it was all good enough, the guys got out of the house, and she had a glass of wine for recovery purposes! 

Crazy busy

    Ok, so maybe it wasn't a good idea to run out of town for a week near the end of the school year.  There is a lot of scrambling in catching up, keeping up, and scurrying, to get through this last week of school.  

    Moon has had band concerts (with one more performance to go), finals, projects, a first real job interview and training.  (Which begins next week, which required half an hour of finagling to reschedule appointments.  Including the orthodontist, which I had so carefully planned to happen NOT at rush hour again...sigh.)

    K. has much going on at work, and out of town trips being planned. (Plus he has my stress and whining to listen to.)

    Blue is enjoying, and tired, from his new summer job, while trying to squeeze friends into every other spare minute.  (We see him occasionally at meals, or as he goes out the door.) 

    My work has been mostly gathering art from the walls all around the school and organizing it to return to students before Friday.  In my efforts to be efficient, I've taken down (and had to rehang) the wrong displays three different times.  There were some nice moments with my first grade friend, who was not wielding scissors this time, and gave today a thumbs up while announcing that it was a "Great day!"  We colored popsicles and discussed our favorite flavors...blackberry, blue-raspberry, lime, and Pepsi (his, not mine!)

    Tonight we sweated (literally and figuratively) through our family singing group concert.  And, NO, I did not practice while I was away.  And, YES, it showed.  During the final run through, the talented woman who stands next to me asked which part I was singing?  "I have no idea.  Clearly not the right one!"  (She quickly traded spots so her voice could have a better angle into my ear.)  Gratefully, all reviews were lovely.  Our leader, she really is a miracle worker!)

    AND, it's Hot.

    All to say...that I've been knitting on, and finally finished, this hat that was started months (years?) ago, out of old handspun, because it took absolutely no brain cells.

a moment of Friday & Wednesday afternoon

    It's been this kind of a week.  As the last stitches of the Moon Cabin cloth were being worked, this happened.  It was such a good needle, too.  Hope I can figure out what kind it was and replace it.

    Of course, that's not likely to happen soon, because it would mean driving across town.

    Here's the spot where it broke, patching up the make-shift corners, where all my binding and mitering knowledge flew out of the window.  

    On Wednesday, Moon needed driven to the other end of the city for an appointment, about eight miles.  It took an hour each way in the city's rush hour.  We sat through one light six times.

         Because of lack of planning, some adjustments had to be made to make room for a moon.

    Somewhere on the freeway a near-miss happened, and a word flew out of my mouth, "Sorry!" I said to Moon.  He informed me that he hears much worse every day at school.  "I know, but still..."  (I don't swear around my kids, or other people's.) 

    There are 139 stars in this cloth, none of them are easy to see.

    The drive was so stressful, we were half an hour late to the appointment, I was near tears, and muttering at motorists.  Moon hurt himself somehow and said a word.  "Don't sound like your mother."

    "I said 'shoot'."

    "Oh, sorry."

    "But if I had said a swear word, is that all you would've said?"

    "Today?  Yes.  It was your window of opportunity, but it's closed now."

    "Darn."

    We laughed.

    There are nine moons on the front, and a few unplanned for ones on the back.  I can make out four here, that makes thirteen total.  That makes me happy.

    After the appointment adventure we were supposed to head downtown to attend a performance.  I informed K., who works downtown, that he would have to come get me, because there was no way on any planet, or underworld, that I would be driving one more minute.

    The Moon Cabin cloth.

like an ocean

    I've gone back to an unfinished cloth (continuing from here).  It requires very little thought.  Just round stone shapes.  Lumpy bumpy rocks.

    I think I named it "stillness," way back when.  Well, I am being very still with it, and not making much progress.  Thoughts and feelings swell and overwhelm, but it does keep me warm during the many cat naps of late.  

    Maybe it's the allergies, or the time change (and by the way, since when does "spring forward" happen in winter?), or the endless day-after-day gray & rain (they say Seattle has already hit the average rainfall for a year, and it's only March!).  And this afternoon, just before sitting down to stitch, I went to take the casserole that I spent the hour before making out of the oven, and dropped it.  Hot mashed potatoes, apples, sausage, sauce, etc., all over the floor.  I went and took another nap.

    Honestly, sometimes I wear myself out.  I should make a category for these whiney posts.

    Done.