I tried to part with this old beauty, but no one wanted it. It is faded and lacks luster and there may be a tiny bit of fraying going on around the edges. It's probably nearly a century old, judging by the fabrics. Or not. Perhaps it was well-loved and reached for to the point of exhaustion.
It's creator was meticulous and purposeful in the placement of the blocks. She/he also had a sense of playfulness and daring - do you see that green triangle?
It floats alone in a sea of brown, blue and beige and rust. It gives pause - causing one to ruminate on the possibilities of one green triangle. I like old things very much, especially fiber antiquity. Whatever possessed me to want to send it away in the first place has passed. I've come to revisit its beauty and charm and that one green triangle may hold a lesson that I need to learn.
On a lighter note - what in the HELL is up with my carrots?
This one seems poised and ready to go skipping down the street! Each one that I have dug has presented with multiple limbs! Andrew seems to think that they were left in the soil too long. Scott wondered about the rockiness of the bed. I always remember my father leaving his carrots in until the first frost - proclaiming that this made them sweeter.
And they are gigantic - bigger than my hand! The "black carrots" are, thankfully, normal -
I am just returning from a small hiatus and will have some fun to share, I promise, soon.
