One corner of the wedding quilt. Last night. The cloth folded and placed before the fire. For tending the fire. To kneel on when keeping the flames going. Old knees.
The old star holding the reflection of the flame. That is what I noticed early this morning. How the warmth dyed the cloth. For a moment. It was quite beautiful. And I became friends with winter again.
Fired up. Dye po(e)ts are brooding. My dyeing these days has no calculation or expectation. I just gather what I have, what I find. And put it in a couple of old copper pots. I add water. I add cloth. Once it is necessary to stay warm, the stove is hot, the pots are always heated. No mold grows. No measure. No worry. Cloth eventually gets colored. It stays as long as it does. Often times until I need it.
I burned the middle finger of my stitching hand, tending the fire this morning. But not before I stitched up another nine patch. A softer one. I used some pomegranate dyed cotton from last winter. I noted the kindness in the natural color.
So a sore finger will keep me from sewing today. But it won't stop me from going in my mind. And measure is on my mind.
How,over time, it becomes more. Or Less. A sense of something. How it all becomes a sort of personal math. Another kind of Natural Order. How oneself might become so much a part of the equation.
Chilly. Bleak. But the dandelions provide some sunshine on this cloudy day. And salad. We'll need the fire in that room today. Probably all day. And night with a possible freeze. I was out early gathering kindling and dry wood before the expected shower. We still have have a wood pile but in this early spring I gather windfall instead, and fire building becomes yard clean up at the same time.
Found this piece of wood with a hole in the middle. The hole was quite useful. It sort of acted like its own chimney stove. Placed over some smoldering twigs and paper it created a column of flame and the morning fire was a breeze.
So here I am. Coffee. No luck giving that up. Stitching on the Soul-o nine lives patch, thinking about safe and warm. I think I will call it that. This little thing. Safe and Warm. The man sleeps late. I am planning some flat bread making. Maybe in a pan. And some doodling.
Grateful that all seems well with Typepad today.
It's just a day. Still, another day, not like any other.
The weather has turned. Rain, lots of it and cold coming. Another freeze tonight and a few cold days behind it. We need the fire today. The cloth I call HOME is on the table. One last corner to quilt. Can't get at it in the hoop.
More feathers will be added here as well, probably some cut from their backgrounds to retain the feel of the Sky, Space.
Rain, And wild Wind. Makes "Chicken" here a little buggy.He has recently formed a relationship with the still unfinished Alphabet Soup quilt.
It has been a while since I stood back. Hung it up. This cloth I call HOME. Right now simply draped over the doors to the one cabinet in this one room we are heating for the winter. Like a cloak it looks.
I completed the ring with green flames. The ring that circles the moon space with a slow and constant burning... So now, a little green. A Sprouting . I couldn't find any outside. Green. I know it is waiting beneath the long freeze. This was for me. And all those weathering a cold storm. I am not alone I whispered to myself.
Season is the circle we all share.
That might make it a way to know each other.
(The email subscription thing is working now. Posts delivered by email are scheduled to be sent once a day around mid-day. If I post later in the day, the mail will not be delivered until the following day. I was able to convert the old list of subscriptions. If you are not receiving updates, you might check your spam folder or perhaps you never confirmed you subscription. I see a few of those. All is well, there is no junk coming your way any more. But I guess that can be a matter of opinion. Ha!)
Cold moving in again. The fresh wood stacked by the fire (and this cloth) seems like home I think. Nice and warm with a tad of forest. Fear subsiding. Ate from my hand today. Gifts have been exchanged.