- I've got sunshine ... on a sunny day

Prairie tea is indeed an effective dyestuff, as this formerly white linen blouse ably demonstrates ...

The cotton diaper cloth on the left also took the dye well, as did the harem cloth ties

Sadly, no leaf imprints came through, but I may have jumped the gun a bit in unwrapping the bundle (what a surprise).

But in the "more good news" department: my turkey feather collection is growing by leaps and bounds. The Rio Grandes must be molting to beat the Texas heat ...

I was also successful hunting for linen on the shirt racks at the Wimberley thrift store (purchased for my fabric stash, but at least one may sneak into the closet). While there, I learned that my all-time favorite antique store By the Bridge had been flooded in May (contrary to news reports which led me to believe it had escaped unscathed).

Wanting to help in the rebuilding effort, I did what I could do ... I went and spent money.  Owner Jill Jones has a great eye and she knows how to ask a fair price, so I quickly found an awesome kettle ...

which was obviously designed to be heated in a bed of coals on top of a wood stove (thanks Grace) ...

and a three-foot diameter iron ring, which I'm sure Don can repurpose ...

Since the items weren't marked, I chatted with Anne Marie while we waited for Jill to call back with prices. In response to my asking what she's been working on lately (you can see one of her felted stitch and patchwork projects here), Anne Marie showed me three folk art assemblages that stole my heart. This is the one that came home ...

The clothesline made it irresistible.

Now the question is, do I go back for the lightning rod?

- Only in Texas

Texas is a land of superlatives and since moving here five years ago we've experienced the most triple-digit days in a summer (100 over 100), the coldest winter on record (complete with frozen pipes ... which didn't burst, fortunately), the highest flood stage ever on the Blanco River, and the wettest May on record (those last two weren't coincidental), and well, you get the idea.

Not that any of this was on my mind when I headed out to do some weeding, after donning proper attire to avoid any misencounters with cactus spines, spiders (tarantulas), snakes, or scorpions ...

Instead, I spent an hour or so pulling up Johnsongrass (an undesirable invasive) and selectively thinning out the  Prairie tea (aka One-seed croton) ... which is native, but competes with the grasses. We have noticed when we pull up the croton, the following year we see an increase in King Ranch bluestem (not the greatest either), which then yields to Little bluestem (highly desirable) and eventually Yellow Indiangrass (woo hoo!)

The Johsongrass ended up on the compost heap, but having read recently about Prairie Tea as a dyestuff, I brought it in for a trial (along with some turkey feathers that I'm gathering for our grandkids to take in to pre-school at Thanksgiving) ...

Since Saskia has been showing off some wonderful clothing dye trials lately, I was inspired to try dyeing this linen top (with the ulterior motive of covering up some stains) ...

Then seriously rolled the biggest tea bag ever and put it in a pot to simmer with some tap water and alum ...

I also decided to test a theory that has been growing in my mind since going through my cloth stash yesterday. When I encountered cloth dyed this spring, I had yet another allergic reaction, even though the cloth had been laundered. Curiously, I didn't have this problem with the dye trials last autumn ... and the chief difference is that I started using a copper pot this spring.

So, I gathered some more Prairie coneflowers (aka Thimble flowers), this time cutting off the entire flower head, not just the petals. Then I put some on a piece of white muslin ...

folded it over and added some more ...

and repeated a couple more times ...

Then rolled and tied it all into a bundle and put it in a (non-food) hot pot with tap water and alum ...

After an hour, color was happening ...

And the back porch smelled heavenly ... which reminds me, one of the things I most love about weeding croton is the wonderfully resinous fragrance akin to sages (aka salvias) that wafts up as you pull them out of the ground ... a fragrance that is definitely enhanced by steeping.

Fingers crossed that these lovelies do not induce an allergic reaction this time around.

Oh, one last thing. In the midst of writing this post, I got an email from a former colleague at the Texas State University library indicating that I might want to take a peek at the latest emergency alert with the tag line "only in Texas."

So I did ...

Superlative!

Update: A few hours later ...

- This old shirt

Note: Click to listen to Mary Chapin Carpenter sing This Shirt as you read ...

After the intensity of working on Hearts for Charleston, I needed to decompress. So I decided to mend this cotton shirt from LL Bean, one of the last gifts from my mom, who passed away in 2008 ...

Mostly used as a night shirt, I recently realized it was getting threadbare ...

which I guess was understandable after seven plus years ...

I wish I had realized it sooner as I could have reinforced the thin spots with kantha stitch alone, but given the holes it seemed best to back the mending with thin cotton cloth ...

to support the stitching ...

And then, because I really just wanted to keep on stitching and have a little fun, I added cloth patches on the front over a couple of stains and some frayed edges ...

I even used some fabric from a deconstructed blouse of my mom's that had also served as a night shirt until it started to fall apart ....

In hindsight, I wish I had mended that blouse instead of tearing it apart, but at least I'm able to wear a bit of it again.

By the way, those of you who have been following the Hearts for Charleston posts might recognize this repurposed fabric from the first set of strips made to honor Ethel Lee Lance. In a way I'm glad it worked out that way as I now have a keepsake from that project.

- Done for now: Hearts for Charleston is heading to Massachusetts

After adding some more stitch to the horizontal strips ...

and twenty cross stitches representing the children, young and grown, left behind by the nine who lost their lives at Emanuel ...

this piece of Hearts for Charleston feels done ...

I'll sleep on it, of course. But the cloth is already so freighted with symbolism (intended and unintended alike) that it doesn't feel right to add any more to it.

Thanks again to Dee Mallon for enabling me to take this journey through sadness and wonder. I have learned much along the way.

And to Deb Sposa's students: art, craft, creativity (whatever name you choose to give it) has the potential to change you in ways you can't imagine. It is worth every moment spent in pursuit of what you feel called to do.

- Listening to what cloth needs

I really didn't know where to go next, but I knew I had two problems to solve. First, the reverse appliqué heart was buckled and needed to be stabilized. Second, the indigo pieces cut out of the heart needed to be placed somewhere, somehow. So I started pinning ...

At first I thought perhaps I could stitch a ghost heart around the "I FORGIVE" piece. But the "died" piece in the middle of the reverse appliqué heart didn't feel right. So I gathered the rest of the scraps together and tried to reassemble them into a heart shape ...

realizing as I did so that there were nine scraps altogether if I included the smallest bit ...

Note the whisper-thin shred on the upper right edge of the heart

However, after moving the pieces back and forth several times, some began to disintegrate, so I hastily pinned them where they were and began to baste. Then, thinking of Mo and her bandaged hearts, I stitched around the edge of the heart ...

It reminded me of the torn and tattered heart made last year when I first began seriously studying with Jude Hill. Remembering the lesson learned, I didn't try to tidy this new heart up ... instead I let it speak of the loose ends of everyday life that the Emanuel Nine surely left behind.

Turning next to the reverse appliqué heart, I decided it needed a backing. Tearing a small patch of Salvia amistad cloth it occurred to me that it was about the right size for a label. So I wrote some text with a Pitt pen ... twice. The first time just didn't look right, so I tore another patch, re-wrote the text, then invisibly basted a piece of harem cloth to the back. After backstitching the text in blue, I used a traditional basting stitch to attach the patch to the back of the cloth. Following the lines left during the dyeing process, I made fine running and back stitches using white floss ...

which went through to the front ...

When it was done, I removed the basting threads from the back ...

and turned to the front, where I discovered nine lines of stitch crossing the heart ...

Life lines

What will come next isn't yet clear, but I absolutely trust the process that has brought me safe thus far ...

Overview of back

and that it will lead me home ...

- Hearts for Charleston takes another step forward

The strips have all been basted down with backstitch ...

Most edges were left raw, but some were turned under ...

after which the heart was cut out free hand ...

Behind the heart is a piece of muslin dyed with Salvia amistad

creating a reverse appliqué that can also be seen from the back ...

The backing cloth was dyed with Thimble Flowers

It's now time to consider how best to finish the cloth, including this piece of the heart ...

- Hearts for Charleston: One step closer

Nine strips by nine strips have been torn and tentatively woven together ...

It's been an interesting journey so far, as I've alternated working out in the yard each morning, and then come in to stitch my ideas into reality each afternoon. Early on I realized that liturgical colors would play a role ... I'll write more about that in another post.

More critically, my initial idea to stitch the name of each person who lost their life onto nine of the strips ...

just wouldn't let go, but neither could I ignore Dee's request to "hold off on that for now." Digging in the hot sun, I recalled Psalm 139 with its references to being made in secret and woven together. So I ended up stitching each name ...

using shades of purple and red ...

Note: the strip for Ethel Lee Lance was reworked in a different cloth after this picture was taken

then turned them face down and set them as the vertical elements of the square, the names thus made "secret" ...

The horizontal strips were stitched with inspiration from Fiona Dempster ...

using words spoken or written by those who had lost loved ones, each strip corresponding to the individuals named above ...

Every fiber in my body hurts ... I will never be the same
Prosper and believe in any of your dreams
This has truly broken my heart in every way
We are the family that love built. We have no room for [hate]
She was where she needed to be ... she was not a victim
I forgive you and my family forgives you
You took something very precious ... and I forgive you
Their legacies will live in love so hate won't win
Hate is taught ... she never taught us to hate

Then the strips were interwoven, revealing key words in the process ...

While at the same time, the word "hate" that I had worried over ...

ended up concealed, as if it had been planned that way ...

As perhaps it had.