I like perennials, the ones that come up by themselves. Over and over.
But there is something special about being part of the planting, and gathering and planting again process. Not just going, but going with tender loving care.
It's been cold, not that cold but the grey cold that nags on you after a while. I'm tired of it. Tired of keeping fires, tired of spending more time indoors than out. Tired of the news. Dry skin. Laundry. You name it. I'm tired of it. February. Every year. The winter bitch returns.
I've got a lot of the old unfinished ClothWoven pieces on the wall today. Because I love them. Looking. Not stitching cuz my fingers are split and chapped from the cold and hauling wood, and washing dishes and such. This one is an old wishing star. It's the first time I have looked at it as a basket, the wishing star. Basket self in new form. The center was like heart but now I think it is more like wishing self.
Wishing is softer than bitching and it is Valentines Day so I'll be nice.
Mostly that doesn't happen. I wake often. And Soul-o wakes me. To talk, to eat. To go out, to... just to wake me. Last night he slept. Up early, both of us. My camera takes weird pictures in low light lately. It has many settings. It isn't the camera, it is me not knowing about all of that. So this morning is blurry even after a good sleep.
There is a red sky this morning. Dad, being a sea guy always said...
Red sun at night, sailors' delight.Red sun at morning, sailors take warning.
I always liked this version better...Shakespeare.
“Like a red morn that ever yet betokened,
Wreck to the seaman, tempest to the field,
Sorrow to the shepherds, woe unto the birds,
Gusts and foul flaws to herdmen and to herds.”
This photo looks like one of Dad's watercolors. I think of Dad. I think of turbulence. Not in terms of fear. But in terms of life.
Later, I sit here. At the mending table.
Thinking back. How naive I was when I made this quilt. That is what distances me from it now. I long for simpler times. Yet I have left them behind, as we do.
The ring around the center Nine will alternate sun and moon. Time passing. And this cloth definitely needs a bit of turbulence. And a little less Pollyanna. It will grow up over time.
Note to self, although not a new one.
Mending is Design. Design is Mending.
PS, it's that time again. Blog remodel time. Expect interruptions.