many thanks

-to all who sent good wishes - our Bubbha came through his bout with pancreatitis and is resting comfortably.  And yes, that creature smiles.  Thank goodness that we still have that smile.


When I started this blog it was with the purpose to journal my work in images and expression.  I wanted a record to recall the pieces that left home, the ones that I would never see again.  My daughter informs me that I have separation issues!  I hope that you will indulge me through the following -


"It's Five O'Clock Somewhere" has left the building.

This little piece was great fun and it is highly personalized.

Jelly Beans for the lovely Renee - the Keeper of the Candy Bowl!  Oddly, she stays nice and slender while our waistbands expand!  Must. Avoid. The. Candy. Bowl!

What is universally true holds no exception in my office - women love shoes.  Especially sandals.  And ALWAYS ankle bracelets!  

Some like white -

Others prefer red.  Who DOESN'T like a marguerita?  Did I get that spelling correct?  Hmmmmm...

Let's zoom in on the bead salt encrusted rim of that drink ...

The beads, for me, are the icing on the quilt.  

The pink delicas are a special favorite and the drops, oh the drops!  Can never have enough drops.  That reminds me, my drop stash is 'dropping' dangerously low.  I wonder what time the bead shop opens.

Five o'clock is a good time for a brewski.  I suspect that if the temperature soars again this weekend there will be lots of suds consumed!  There are 50 shades of gray marching down the sides of this piece.  Some of my coworkers found themselves 'caught up' in that popular trash book - so much so that all three editions were passed around.  I couldn't NOT record this in some way.  After all, I take a lot of flack for my lack of enthusiasm for pop culture and what's fair is fair.  

I like to bead the corners of my work.  I'm always searching for beads that resemble sea glass, which I can never have enough of.  Mrs. Pom - if you're out there - won't you bring some sea glass back from the Cape?

I'll think that I will have my coffee on the bench this morning.  This is a nice old piece that fell into disrepair and was being trashed until my father rescued it.  It came over from mom's yard and Scott tightened it up further.

One imagines that the Ole Man is smiling.

Bubbha comes home

 

If you've been visiting my blog over the years you will have met my daughter's companion, Bubbha, the boxer.  And you will know that he is the best person of all.

Handsome, patient and LOYAL.  Adored by all - firmly entrenched, a true family member in every sense of the word.  And yes, he used to BOX us -  selectively.  There's nothing like a loving embrace or a 'boxing' from a boxer!

He really is the most soulful fellow.  To say that we cherish him would be an understatement.  He's had some serious heart issues for the last few years, but until today he seemed unstoppable.  He was admitted for an overnight at our veterinarian's hospital today and we are all very very worried about him.  If you are so inclined, send out a good wish for our boy.

workings

I've had a few days behind massive A/C to create.  What else to do when the temps hover around 100 degrees?  First off, I want to show you my newest and most lovely garden piece.  I've wanted this skep, well, forever!

I know, I feel the same way.  Another view?

Someone was calling from the depths of the closet -

I learned how to sew on this, my grandmother's Singer.  When I examine this image I have to wonder about that ghostly veil on the left side.... is my grandmother visiting?  She never cared for me, so a visit from her would be surprising, yet welcomed.  Edith, we should talk.


I was 14 years old and caught up in the hottest summer in memory.  Too young to work or drive, I was stranded at home with nothing to do.  My mother and sister both sewed, but I had stubbornly refused 4H lessons.  I woke up one sweltering July morning and decided to retreat to the cool depths of the basement, and with the old Singer under my arm, I taught myself how to sew.


A girl needs clothes, don't you know?  After many many false starts and an awesome array of expletory language (overheard from the firemen on Sunday mornings - another story for another time...) I came up with something nearly passable.  If memory serves, it was a culotte.  And I loved it.  Sewing and I clicked.  We've had a steady relationship ever since and we've never broken up - not even once!  (don't think we don't argue though!)

Finished!

Just started!

In the dreaming stage ...  I have coveted the California Girl line for quite awhile.  Usually I allow these things to brew.  If, after a few months, I'm still thinking about them, then it's time to act!  I'm proud to say that I haven't broken down and ordered the second edition of the Flea Market Fancy.  It's just a matter of time ...

A current favorite - three recipes tried with total success!  I would recommend this cookbook w/o reservation.

The fennel adores the heat - but sadly, this is the last shot of the clematis (who succumbed yesterday to the 90 degree blast)

Jackmanni, I'll miss you!

pushing up daisies

The Harley dog decided to "play" with a baby woodchuck who had ventured too far from the safely of his/her den. It didn't work out well for the woodchuck and poor Harley is still wearing his puzzled expression.  I went to the nursery and bought a beautiful shasta daisy.  Baby woodchuck is buried beneath in the herb garden.

It's been an interesting weekend.  My cousin came from Yorktown with his son and they emptied the basement of my mother's house - no small feat by any stretch of the imagination.  My gratitude to them knows no limits.  I came home with more yard ornamentation.  

I have always loved this cherub in my mother's garden.  I do struggle with the notion that it belongs behind in the spot where my mother placed it, but she wants her daughters to enjoy her garden bounty.

wordy wednesday

I haven't been happy with the blog.  My photo images seem uninspired, dull.  Is it the camera?  I think not!  Maybe it's time to change the format, change the direction to reflect the work that I am doing - the work that I haven't shared.

MUST. CONCENTRATE.

There hasn't been much story telling going on either.  The stories are tight and marginalized these days.  My BFF is moving far away.  My family home has been sold to strangers.  My wonderful dog is still lame and I am struggling with joint pain of my own.  The gardens do not beckon, the workplace an abomination.  But there is light at the end of this darkened tunnel ... in less than one month I will begin my annual summer reprieve.

 How can I complain?  Yesterday I saw a young man eating from a dumpster behind a popular fast food restaurant.  I wanted to offer him some money, but his desperate eye and body movements frightened me away.  Scott brought sushi home for dinner.  The dichotomy of my world both enlightens and dismays. 

Ruth McDowell's Fabric Journey' has been on my nightstand.  She is terrifyingly brilliant.  It's exhausting to follow her process, but true inspiration to view her completed works.  Have you ever seen her flamingos?   

sunday whimperings

Dublin Bay and New Dawn make a beautiful arrangement - cut from my own garden.  The roses are prolific this season.

The peas, which went in very late, are struggling to catch up.  

When my father was alive I would always take the first head of lettuce to him on Fathers Day.  I wonder when it will get easier - all of the attention paid to Fathers Day brings the sting of his passing home.

I've been knitting and quilting.  I have two very special commissioned pieces to complete so I will have to turn my attention away from these projects for a while -

'It's Five O'clock Somewhere' is almost finished.  

Can't remember when I've enjoyed a piece so much!

I've made three blocks for my Farmer's Wife' quilt - little six inch squares ...

I woke to the sound of a chainsaw yesterday morning AT. SIX. THIRTY. AM.!  I was so disturbed and it became progressively MORE disturbing as the chainsaw was joined by a wood chipper!  My neighbor, who is retired (and could certainly have this work done on a weekday when good people are at work and not trying to sleep) was having his cherry and apple trees removed.  What does this mean?  That my hosta bed is now in full sun.  I'm kind of beside myself.  Some of my collection are over ten years old and huge.  Full sun will be a death sentence for them.


I think that I'll go sew for awhile!