Giving it up

March 19, 2021 – Agave blade

As we worked in Meg and Paul’s yard, removing the dead and dying plants that didn’t make it through the week-long freeze, we debated about the thorn-crested agaves (which we mistakenly called Spanish daggers back in the day) …

We had transplanted them a few years back from our Hill Country house, where we had more than a few to spare …

In fact, if you look closely at left side of the first picture, you can see some of the “pups” that made them so prolific. So yeah, they were sentimental favorites for sure.

But when I tried to cut off the freeze-dried blades at Meg’s, the results were far from eye-pleasing. Besides, I rationalized, they’re kinda dangerous around little ones, given the barbed nature of the edges, which hook back and can do some serious damage …

So the decision was made to pull them out. Although I didn’t have the heart to photograph them at the time, I wished I had. That’s when I got the idea to make a memory patch of a single blade.

I found some pale green silk and a scrap of hand-dyed cotton with a mottled color that reminded me of damaged foliage.

I folded and pressed the silk and “pinned” it to the cotton with my finest needles. Then I worked out a funky kind of blanket stitch that reminded me of the barbed agave spines …

So while I guess I’m glad the agaves are gone for now, I suspect there may be some pups hidden in the soil that may yet come up … ya never know.

Outta sight

February 5, 2021 – Spin cycle
February 6, 2021 – Black hole aka Groundhog Day

The spiral patch unfortunately relates to recent medical rounds. Nothing catastrophic, mostly annoying. For instance, having to go pick out new eyeglass frames because the ones that were sent off for updated lenses were destroyed in a shipping accident. The good news is, now that I’ve had cataract surgery I can actually drive again. So there’s that.

Covid continues to be another life-complication, of course. We’ve relied on grocery deliveries for over ten months in order to minimize the risk of contracting the virus. At first the deliveries were a bit dicey … having to order up to a week in advance and never being sure of what would actually arrive. But over time things have gotten consistently better, to the point where I now schedule my deliveries to include a hot rotisserie chicken … perfect for dinner.

Until last night, that is. The appointed hour came and went. Figuring things were a bit busier than usual due to Super Bowl shopping, I wasn’t too surprised. So I called and sure enough, our order had slipped between the cracks. Not to worry, I was assured, it was ready to go.

More waiting ensued, and then a text message popped up …

More phone calls, more reassurance that the full order was in another driver’s car and on the way.

On the way to where exactly we will never know. The bananas arrived in due course … the rest of the groceries, including dinner, did not.

Hence the linen black hole, reverse appliquéd into some intergalactic cloth dyed by Deb

And so went the first week in February …

At least there’s this to celebrate …

once the groceries get here 😉

Here comes the sun

January 28, 2021 – The Nebra Sky Disk

Some months back, I read an intriguing article, took a screen shot, and filed it away in memory to use “someday” …

Then it showed up again last week

followed in short order by Acey’s prompt to listen to George Harrison’s Here comes the sun “until you’re ready to articulate the way your own ice is slowly melting.”

Have I mentioned how much I love Acey’s prompts? Not to mention George Harrison.

Anyway, it was a short leap from prompt to sky disk … and thence to my cloth stash where I found a bronze-y cotton sateen by Tierney Barden and a richly dyed green cotton by Deb Lacativa.

The green was appliquéd to the sateen to form the sky disk, then itself became the frame for the reverse appliquéd sun. Deb’s wild threads were perfect for the details of sun barge, crescent moon, and Pleiades.

Sitting with the Texas sun warming my shoulders, I worked Jude’s split backstitch around the edges and tacked down the disk with a few French knots until it was all too quickly done …

No ice here.