Tuesday, April 5, 2016

- Another moon dance (because there can never be too many)

Retrospective (4/8/2016)

Tuesday's moon was in its final waning, so this bit of needle weaving made during Jude Hill's online class Considering Weave, seemed like a good fit ...

Patch #96

But here's the thing. Did you know that the waning moon looks different in Australia? As knowing this is relatively new to me, I thought a patch that showed both the northern hemisphere and southern hemisphere views was in order ...

The top, bottom, and right edges were left loose
in order to turn the bit of weave over like the page of a book

The bit of weave was made by coloring the hand-strung linen warp threads with blue and black fabric marker, then needle weaving in a weft of white linen. As I started and ended the lengths of weft thread,  I left the tail ends trailing on one selvedge. Those loose ends enabled me to stitch the finished weaving to a daytime sky-blue linen patch (the waning crescent being visible primarily during the day).

After randomly stitching in the loose ends, I recalled showing G jet contrails as we played out in the backyard on Tuesday. The stitches streaming across the patch suddenly took on meaning. Once again, an example of the cloth revealing more than I had originally intended. I love it when that happens!

Monday, April 4, 2016

- You gotta ...

I was trying something new: sandwiching a very fine cotton between two fine linens, then stitching text through all three layers ...

Patch #95

Unlike my usual MO of printing words by hand, I used a word stamp, then back stitched it with a single strand of cotton floss. Unsure about how the open weave of the linen would hold the stitches, I ended up pleasantly surprised. So I'm now ready to move on with the project for which this was but a trial.  As for the word stamp that I grabbed out of the box? I guess it turned out to be the perfect word for today ...


Once again, I walked through wildflowers, taking more pictures than you probably care to see (so I'll reduce the size to make scrolling quicker) ...

Lace cactus and bitterweed

Close up

But it gets better ... upon returning to the house, I found an email from the Newcomb Museum of Art at Tulane, home of the Newcomb Enterprise textile collection ...


announcing a Mother's Day brunch ...



complete with a behind the scenes tour of the Newcomb College pottery collection ...

Best cactus flowers ever?

"Hey Don, want to go to New Orleans next month?"

"Does the Hill Country have beef?"

Seen on the way to pick up our weekly CSA veggies

P.S. Recommendations on hotels, restaurants, and must-not-miss sights in New Orleans would be greatly appreciated since this will be a first-time visit for us.

Sunday, April 3, 2016

- What were you doing in 1968?

In 1968 I was an awkward twelve year old growing up in the suburbs on Long Island.  My mom was forever telling me to "put down that book and go outside for some exercise." Somehow I didn't quite appreciate going out for a walk back then the way I do now.

In addition to books, I was also into needlework ...

Patch #94: crewel wool on coarse linen
(newly dated with one strand of DMC floss)

The patch is a bit of Erica Wilson crewel embroidery from this piece (yes, I cut into it), which lived in my parents' house on Shelter Island in the frame my father painted ...


until it didn't. I took it out of the frame a few years ago after my parents had both passed away. I couldn't bring myself to let it go, but neither did I want to look at it on the wall every day. 

Making today's patch I was struck by how crunchy the cloth was and how clumsy the crewel wool. Really, I did a pretty good job considering what I had to work with. As I recall, I quickly moved on to Elsa Williams' line of crewel kits during my teens. Then to counted cross stitch and finally my own designs. But that's another story.

Still, as cutesy as the lazy daisy stitches are, they do call the blue-eyed grass to mind ...


although the prairie verbena ...


and this new-to-me wildflower are arguably closer matches with the requisite five petals ...


Of course, nothing made by hand can touch the reality of a bank of Texas bluebonnets, so I just point my camera and shoot ...



Meanwhile, the dewberry flowers are  yielding fruit ...


and the live oaks continue their pollen production ...


coating everything ...

"Not pixie dust"

So I'm back inside, enjoying the view of Don's latest (he says the largest is still a WIP) ...

Funky fish found at an antique story during the Llano Earth Art Fest

I can almost smell the salt air ...

Saturday, April 2, 2016

- Sail on silver girl

Another day ... another week ... another month ...


The weather patch cloth is getting too large to get into decent focus in its entirety. So, getting a little closer ...


Drat! The seam color still doesn't show, so you'll have to take my word that it's a pale green to commemorate the pollen that has blanketed our world. Pixie dust it's not! Indeed, today I awoke to a sinus headache of the sort I not-so-fondly refer to as frying pan face ... in tribute to those classic cartoons of yesteryear in which hapless characters had their profiles imprinted in cast iron cookware accompanied by a resounding "clang!" (Or maybe it was an anvil)

So, as beautiful as the day was, I hunkered down inside, dosed up on generic Claritin, Nasocort, and acetaminophen. Which wasn't all bad since I had some projects to do for a blog-friend, commemorated thusly as a helping hand  ...

Patch #93

Yep, that's my hand in miniature. More on that later.

Luckily for me, Don went out for the mail and brought back this lovely from Hazel (aka Cindy) Monte at Handstories ...

With some sky for a sail

I gasped when I saw it. Look closely and you can see bits of silver glinting in the waves ...



Not only that, there was also a delightful card and some indigo shibori (I think) ...


I love how the piece was signed, too ... gonna have to figure out a way to make that visible in the final mounting. By the way, the frame is one my dad painted 45 years ago. Long empty, it now has the perfect companion.

The day ended with my first-ever bamboo steamer cooked dumplings (up until now I've made potsticker dumplings). Please bear with me (or just stop reading) while I jot down the recipe so I can remember what I did!

Steamed Pork Dumplings (makes 32 small)

Filling

1 lb ground pork (do not precook)
1/3 pound shredded mushrooms (uncooked)
Handful of Asian slaw mix with cabbage (put dressing on the remainder and use as a side)
Some sliced scallions
Tamari sauce
Sesame oil
Grated ginger
Grated garlic
1 egg white

Combine ingredients (yes, I know there are no quantities ... that's how I roll).

Wrappers (mix up an hour or so before cooking)


I cup bread flour
1/3 cup water
1/4 tsp safflower oil
pinch of salt

Combine in food processor and process until ragged, adding a bit more water as needed until it almost, but not quite masses into a ball. Wrap in plastic wrap and rest on the counter for 1/2 hour (or more)

Divide into 32 portions (fourths, then each fourth into eighths ... try using a scale next time)

Run through pasta roller #3, then #5, then #7. Dust lightly with flour as needed

Scoop pork filling with a tablespoon measure, pinch wrapper edges together and put in parchment paper lined steamer baskets (16 per basket)
Steam for 8 minutes or until barely pink in the middle (check after 6)

Serve with warm chicken broth and soy for dipping, plus that Asian slaw on the side

Friday, April 1, 2016

- No foolin'

Patch #92: Blue skies over hailstones


We awoke to the sound of thunder close at hand, but within minutes there were clear patches in the pre-dawn sky.

By the time breakfast was over, the wind had picked up and Don got the new car in the garage just minutes ahead of the next storm.

Hail the size of small marbles rattled off the roof, bouncing like popcorn off the rocks before coating the ground. Then minutes later, the sun came out. I'm not kidding.

One of the sotols became a snow cone writ large ...


holding ample evidence of the storm ...



while a single hailstone floated in the rain gauge ...

0.2"

And look at this, from yesterday evening's picture walk ...


tiny white flowers strewn like hail over the floodplain ...


This spring there are more flowers on the floodplain than we have ever seen before ...


relics of last year's floods ...


cloaking the fields in gold ...


I'm taking this all as a good omen for a renewed commitment: every day a patch of memory ...

January Patches #1-31
February Patches #32-60
March Patches #61-91
April Patch #92