- Learning the (good) hard way

The sun was shining again today, so I didn't mind that it took a while to get to where I was happy with this cover for the lullaby book. By the way, if you want to know when to use "a while" versus "awhile," the Snarky Grammar Guide has a great "Try this" trick.

                                         

Anyway, in spite of the effective instruction that Jude Hill provides in her Spirit Cloth classes (which I highly recommend even, or especially, for experienced stitchers), I still insist on learning things the hard way: by trial and error. So as I went along, trying to get to a final version of Close your eyes that I actually liked, I found myself remembering some tried and true sayings ... which led to the following notes to self.

If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. And next time, don't use such a lightweight fabric over a sturdy twill ...

Measure twice, cut once rather than assuming that five 5" strips in each direction will give you a 5" square ... 

The third time's the charm, but it's best to hedge your bets, so practice, practice, practice ...

which includes using monochromatic pictures before you stitch to envision alternatives ...

A stitch in time saves nine, so baste thoroughly ... 

Dot every i and cross every t, but it's definitely better not to split back stitches that meet at a common point ...

                                                              

And one last thought: when using variegated thread, a second strand of a solid color moderates the effect. I learned that one the hard way, too.

- Sunshine!

Oh frabjous day ... sun at last!

After a little trail blazing (moving wood mulch onto the path leading to our neighbors' house), I sat in the breezeway and stitched a new cover for the lullaby book ...

And as I snapped the picture, my eye was drawn down to the rocks, where the lantana was ...

Blooming!

Have I mentioned that I love Texas?

- The sun, the moon and the stars: Progress on Close Your Eyes

The lullaby books for Jace and Griffin are taking longer than expected, but I'm enjoying the process of adding lots of stitch, which is turning out to be wonderfully tactile.

These three "pages" go with the James Taylor lyrics to You can close your eyes:

Well the sun is surely sinking down

But the moon is slowly rising

So this old world must still be spinning 'round

                                  

Out of curiosity, I did a monochromatic image of the moon ...

And last, but not least, for you B-siders, the hole in the back of the third piece was made when the cloth started to buckle as I stitched the circle around the earth, so I cut out the middle and it flattened right out ...

- Isn't it nice to be home again ...

- Mending my ways

When Meliss read my post about mending her jeans she said, "I didn't realize you were done ... of course I have more!" and promptly pulled out three more pairs of hole-y jeans.

So I got to try two more mending ideas on a second pair. The first was a more deliberate alternation between horizontal and vertical passes of split backstitch over a worn area that did not yet have a hole in it ...

The second area had a much larger hole than the other day ...

Once again backed with a silk patch (because the jeans are thin and a thicker patch would show through) ...

This time worked in a single color, alternating horizontal and vertical passes, much like a leaf or fly stitch ... 

Which filled the hole quite nicely ...

Time will tell if the repair is too good ... which could cause the surrounding fabric to tear. I'll take the other two pairs back to Texas and ponder how best to deal with shredding along the bottom hems.

Meanwhile, still going for that Kodak moment, Meliss and I simultaneously came up with Snickerdoodles as a way to tempt Jackson ...

"What do you think J?"

"Tickle Nana!"

"You're welcome!"

- To be and To bear

Yesterday I was given a gift ... one golden hour with a baby sleeping in my arms. From wails to hiccups to snuffles, Jace succumbed to patient rocking and a steady drumbeat on his back.

The last time he napped in my arms (two months ago) I snapped this picture ... 

This time, as his breathing slowed and deepened, I was determined to soak up every detail ... the seemingly endless tending of my own mothering days now a rare opportunity to be present.

Downy hair, milky breath, silken lashes ... the delicious warmth and weight of a just-right-sized body ... stillness and soft light ... rocking, rocking, rocking ... watching breath ... listening to it shift, awareness dawning, eyes opening, lips gently pursing ... looking for what only a mother can give ... the end of an hour.

But with these words, an hour to be re-membered ... re-called ... re-lived ... a gift for all time.

And then, because there are two to love, I made a bread bear for big brother Jackson ... to go with the molasses "kee-kees" that he liked far better once they were baked to a crisp crackle.

Coda: Today dawned clear and cold, sunlight streaming in the window. And as I nuzzled the top of Jace's head (because there is nothing better than kissing the top of a baby's head) the sun beams caught in his hair. And like a thousand thousand tiny prisms, those impossibly fine strands of gold became a thousand thousand rainbows. Another forever memory ....

- Chattanooga Choo Choo ... not

The Arctic Express barreled through St Louis last night ... leaving double-digit negative wind chill factors in its wake. Not a day to go outside. So what better to do than make cookies? Molasses cookies ...

Just one problem ... the planned-for warm and fuzzy Kodak moment resulted in a resounding "Yuck!" 

So, back pedal to a chocolate chip cookie moment captured last month by Meliss and you can see what I was going for ...

Oh well, it's still a favorite family recipe with my girls ...

Recent needle-work (and I'm using the term deliberately) has been focused on trying different stitches on some worn jeans. After invisibly basting some old necktie silk on the back of a shredded hole ...

I made multiple passes in back stitch, after realizing early on that running stitch was too open to hold ...

Still not satisfied, I tried split backstitch halfway through a second repair site, with some color variation in order to better see the alternation between horizontal and vertical passes ...

I have an idea of what I want to try next ... that is if Meliss is willing to risk offering up another pair of jeans. 

And now, a new mondegreen moment:

Two year old Jackson is very good with four month old Baby Jace. He loves to share.

He's also very good at asking for help.

"Choo choo, Nana."

"You want to play with your trains?"

"No, choo choo peas."

"Ummm ..."

"Tissues, Mom," Meliss explained. "He needs a tissue."

And so he did ... which is how he managed to share his cold with everyone, even Baby Jace ...

who's fortunately none the worse for wear.

- The back of beyond: A new direction in stitch

I've found a new Kindred Spirit in Amy Meissner ... specifically her post B-sides (oh, I am so jealous that she used that post title first). I'll add links to this post later, but for now you can find her in the links to the right.

I love looking a the back-side of needlework, as many of you know ...

So much so that I'm deliberately working a piece backwards, sketching on the back with a Pitt pen ...

then working a very open backstitch from the back ... 

which is looking very interesting from the front (although I think I'll try a smaller moon next time) ... 

And now a mondegreen moment: 

Two year old Jackson politely asked for "more please" at dinner.

"More what?" we asked.

" Apple tacos," he said ... which we thought was adorable because we were eating red chile chicken on tortillas. So I promptly got him some more apple sauce.

Except while he was eating that he once again said, "Apple tacos please!" And it hit us ... he didn't want apple anything ... 

what he really wanted was more "avocados."

- Be it resolved ...

I have an on-again off-again thing about New Year's resolutions. In the past, I made predictable resolutions to eat better, lose weight, exercise, etc. etc. which resulted in failure more often than success ... the resolutions abandoned, most forgotten mere weeks into the new year.

And once upon a time, I also made New Year's predictions ... at the annual party hosted by Barb and Ray Laroche, where we would all read our predictions from the previous New Year's Eve, then write new ones for the upcoming year. The one I  love to recall was from 1992, when we were all prompted to write down who we thought would be elected in November. My prediction that it would be Bill Clinton was met the following New Year's Eve with exclamations of "Who even knew who he was this time last year?" I was a rock star. Unfortunately, every prediction I made after that one was an absolute, totally forgettable let down.

Still, there's something about the new year that begs for my attention, a yearning to find my better self. So a couple of years ago I decided to try one-word resolutions ... clear, simple, memorable, accountable.

In 2013 I resolved to Create which resulted in ...

A return to stitching ...

A first attempt at cloth book-making

Re-imagined placemats

Plus lots ...

and lots of bibs and burp cloths ...

There were also a number of wood and metalworking collaborations with Don ...

Flying fish ...

A funky whale ...

 

Birth flags ...

A Chesapeake skipjack for a dear friend

And a reimagined construction site 2x4 honoring a new home

There was more, but much of it went undocumented, leaving a gaping hole in the 2013 blog archive.

In 2014 I resolved to Blog ... which got off to a slow start, quite honestly. After a lone post in early January, I dropped the blog-ball big time. Then it happened. On March 9, 2014 I discovered that my blog had been accruing thousands of hits on the Rain Chain post from 2012, mostly from Pinterest links. Who knew?!?!

It was just the motivation I needed to get blogging again. And blog I did, as you can see from the chronological BLOG ARCHIVE to the right. However, after the initial rush of enthusiasm and a mini-spate of posts, I once again lost heart ... most of the hits on the blog continued to be rain chain views. What was the point of blogging if no one was reading?

Fortunately, the story has a happy ending thanks to Jude Hill's Spirit Cloth. After discovering the concept of slow cloth (via Pinterest) I read Jude's entire blog from 2006 to present, then signed up for two of her online classes. Spirit Cloth 101 gave me to a new way of looking at cloth-making, but the solstice-to-equinox journey through Considering Weave gave me a new community within which to make it.

When Considering Weave ended in September, I was determined to maintain connections to my newfound cloth-mates. More and more my posts were directed to them as an audience and as I visited their blogs, I belatedly realized that some of them had links from their blogs to mine. Inspired, I created my own  KINDRED SPIRITS links, with which I now follow the latest missives from the blogosphere.

The conversations that have resulted from these interconnections are sometimes hard to follow (where did I post that comment?) and some revelations have sidetracked into private emails. But there's no question that I am now a part of a very real community. There have been shared experiences, such as the post about it's only RAIN that led Saskia to a Mystiqueros concert in the Netherlands.

And our home is now enriched with pieces of work from Jude ...

 
and Grace ...

and Mo ...

                         

More to the point, the friendships that have been forged encircle the globe, enriching our spirits ... because the truth is that Don has become a steady, if stealthy, reader.

Thus it was clear, as I updated my profile yet again, that my focus has shifted over the life of the blog from cooking to crafting to stitching (a term I now prefer to "needleworking" which sounds a bit too much like ... well, work). I have come full-circle to where my creative life began.

For 2015 I hereby resolve to Stitch ... and to share the journey by creating and blogging (almost) every step of the way. I hope you'll join me.

- The way we were

Christmas decorations always bring to mind the church where we were wed, which was redolent with pine ...

An old kerosene lamp from my mom's summer house in the Catskills
and a hallway mirror found by my folks at an antique show
bedecked each year with boughs and bells

37 years ago Don and I said a midwinter "I do" ... and this time around we'll mark the occasion by grandparenting for the next ten days (which may cut into my blogging time a bit). I wouldn't have it any other way.