Card Game

As often happens, Twinnie inspires me.  She's been making collages on index cards for a while, and I dipped my toe back in by getting some of my postcards out.

Prompt: "Transportation."

Prompt: "Anger."

Prompt: "Smooth."

I like the overall of the ink and pens, but am proud of stretching out a bit for the "Anger" one.  The other one is sort of "meh."

On the subject of cards, do you know that there's a yarn tarot deck?  There are some nice ones.  I shall show you some in the coming days, beginning with this one:

I don't know if The World is a standard tarot card, but I like this one, because it has yarn and a lion.

Needle Sing*

*Thank you, Woody Guthrie, for giving us a song about crafting, with a whole verse about knitting.

But Tuesdays mean cross-stitch, don't they?

You can't tell it here, but I am working on yellows in the girl's hair.  I don't know how the rabbit is going to get eyes, but that's a step much farther ahead.

It struck me a day or so ago that I don't know what I'm going to do with this when it's done!  Possibly a pillow?  It's a big piece.  Plus, I'm kind of running out of wall space for something else framed.  It just doesn't strike me as something that should be framed, anyway.  Does that make sense?  Maybe it's the needlepoint vibe of it all?

Sweater Weather

Another lovely thunderstorm this afternoon.  Tap and I sat on the front porch for a while watching it.  It's funny what does and doesn't bother him.  Obviously, storms don't, but if a storm knocks out the power, he gets all wound up.  Police cars and ambulances go by the house, sirens going, all the time ---- nothing.  A fire truck, though?  *BARK*BARK*BARK*

The weather helped inspire me to settle down and cross-stitch and start a sleeve for the sweater I'm working on.

This is this kit

from, as you can see, Sierra Yarns.  Soft and smooshy yarn, 10 1/2 and 11 needles, it's going fairly quickly.

I went back to the dentist today for a quick check-in/check-up.  He said everything looks really good, and to come back in five months.  A year and a half of this.  IF everything goes as it should.  If.

Picture in a Frame

So, how many of us were up framing cross-stitch pieces at 2:45 this morning?  Oh, just me?  Huh.

There's nothing fancy here, no matting or the like.  Rabbit:

Fox:

Christmas door:

Even a Christmas ornament for good measure:

I did go back to sleep around 6, but have yet to meet this amount of production since.  I've said it before: I'm a night owl.  My energy kicks in around 10 PM.

 

Random Thoughts

I am very, very tired of seeing Hugh Jackman and Ryan Reynolds.  They are everywhere.  Someone please get them back to their respective homes.

While reading recently, I came upon the phrase "loud yelling."  Isn't yelling --- by definition --- loud?  Economy of words, people.

Am I somehow unpatriotic because I'm not watching nor interested in the Olympics?  A few people are trying to make me feel that way.

Y'all know sugar wafers, right?

The crunchy part might very well be made of extremely thin cardboard?  Why am I thinking about them so much lately?

Summer is almost over here.  The beginning and end of Summer is marked by when UGA students leave and when they return.  At least in my mind.  

Thunderstruck

For the past several days, we've had wonderful thunder-rumbling rain, usually in the afternoon.  You know already that I love that.  It's cozy and comfortable and perfect for reading, cross-stitching and, instead of wearing one, knitting a comfy sweater.  (Which I am, by the way.)

On the reading front, I recently found, after a long search, this book:

Elizabeth Keckley, as the subtitle says, was Mary Lincoln's seamstress.  She is also a personal heroine of mine.  I'm anxious to read this, though I started another book today.  This is a slim little volume: 156 pages, so it'll likely be a one day's read once I start.

Needle and Thread

I woke up this morning with an almost physical urge to cross-stitch.  Look how the little girl's sleeve is filling in:

This is one of those pieces that you work and work on and don't see much progress.  It's also one of those that you have to appreciate at a distance.

Another piece --- a little one --- will be started as soon as I can get to Michaels and buy some floss that I'm missing.

AND, thank you for letting me know how many other Eaters Who Get Bullied there are.  Dee, my daughter also has an aversion to fish.  We can't eat it around her, which makes visits to some restaurants very difficult.

Watermelon Man

Some of you may have seen the "thing" on the Internet where people put lemon juice on watermelon and rave on about how much better it makes the watermelon.  I have to have said here before that I have never liked watermelon, and how I've been low-key bullied about it all my life.  

"You don't like watermelon?  You weren't raised right."

"You don't like watermelon?  You just haven't had a really good one."

"Eat this watermelon.  Just a little bite.  I promise it'll change your mind."

Today at the grocery I bought a small bowl of pre-cut watermelon pieces and a bag of lemons and limes.  There's no recipe or order of operation: you squeeze the lemon on the watermelon and you're done.

It tastes like watermelon with lemon juice on it.

What's the deal?  I don't get it.  And I can't even feed the leftover watermelon* to Tap, because, if you go by Internet posts, he is the only dog in the world who doesn't like it.  Maybe he's commiserating.

*If reading posts had drinking games, and this one's word was " watermelon," you'd be hammered by now.

Thank U

Anyone else breathing a wee bit easier today?  Feeling a little more hopeful?  Realizing how gratitude feels?  Keeping those fingers crossed?

Mona Lisa

The other day, I realized the girl and bunny piece I've been working on will be the first nothing-but-stitches I've done.  My mother, on the other hand, did a lot of them, including

SOLID STITCHING.  No fabric showing.  It's very likely that this piece has been mentioned here before, and may be again, but I often look up at it and shake my head.  That's how she was: the more complicated and detailed, the better.  The first piece she ever did was of a cottage surrounded by a large garden on 22-count fabric.  Who chooses 22 on purpose?  For the first time you try something ?  And I can promise you that the backs of all her pieces were as neat as a pin.

Me, I got the courage to try to de-grid my fox.  (In our old and oft-used 13x9x2 pan.)  Here is the beginning:

My trepidation made me think of what knitters must feel when steeking for the first time.

An hour in:

It's working!  But is all the "melting" color going to leave stains?

Forty-five minutes more, and

it's clean and clear!  Amazing.  I have gone back today and rinsed out this colors on the edge.  This is bound for framing, and needs to be blank all the way around.  I have hope for the same result with the aforementioned girl and bunny.

Gambling Polka Dot Blues

For as long as I can remember, I have loved dot-to-dots.  Today, waiting in line at CVS, I saw this beside the check-out counter:

Granted, this isn't like the dot-to-dots of my childhood,

as I don't recall any circus animals or frogs sitting on lily pads having 434 dots.

Another childhood favorite was trace-and-draw coloring books.  Does anyone else remember them?  They were coloring books that had pieces of onionskin paper between pages so you could trace the designs.  Crazy for those, and they may well have gone the way of the dinosaurs.

Everybody Hurts

So, my psychiatrist is adding a new anti-depressant to my regime, and if it doesn't improve things, he may move to ketamine treatments.

This sort of frightens me.  Ketamine is serious.  My doctor isn't certified to do the treatments, so I'd have to go to someone else.  This is giving me memories of our discussion about electroshock, 12 or 13 years ago.  I hope it doesn't get that far.

This has been my view for most of the past several days:

I feel like I'm making good progress, but there is still so.  Much.  Blue!

Summertime Sadness

 

What Does the Fox Say?

Was that musical question ever answered?

Anyway, check it out:

Let me reiterate --- I looove this.  I'm anxious to see if the background lines do fade in water, but even if they don't, it was fun to stitch and a joy to look at.

Book(s) on a Shelf

There are two curio cabinets in this house, one in the hall proper, and one in the hall area beside the front door.  Some time ago, I consolidated the two, moving the collectibles (ceramics, crystal, glass, etc.) all into the hall one.  That left the one by the door empty, and me wondering ever since what to do with it.

Today, out of the blue, came the idea to put all the Abraham Lincoln books I have read in there.

Twenty-four.  There are others that I know I have packed away, and still more that are unread.  Scarcely a tiny portion of the number that have been written about him (15,000), but my minuscule  slice of the pie.

My only dissatisfaction with this is that there isn't an electrical outlet right there.  There are lights in the cabinet, and the effect would be nice.  Weirdly, there isn't an outlet near enough to run an inconspicuous extension cord to, so it's natural light for the time being.

Every Picture Tells a Story

And this is me today

While the world stands in judgment 

Odds and Ends

People will say, "I flew all the way here."  Of course you did.  There's no reason to fly part of the way to anywhere. 

Sometimes I get hung up on the phrase "behind your back."  Wouldn't being behind the back be in the front?  I make conscious efforts to only say "in back."  It's just for me.

Did any of you ever wear these?  My mother tied them into my hair every morning for I don't know how many years.  I clearly remember how they felt: massive strands of acrylic yarn.

You can sort of see a hot green one there on the right;  I thought it was so cool that there were colors like that.  Not just navy and red and yellow.

Yesterday and today I've had a very intense headache on the right side.  It's sinus mixed with the lingering pain of the abutment surgery, and it is miserable.  Like a dry sinus infection, I guess?  Unpleasant to say the least.

My Seven Color Fox is coming along spectacularly.  It may be one of my favorite projects ever.  I'll probably knit tomorrow, though, so the yarn doesn't feel neglected.

Tennessee Rose

This little beauty came together over Sunday's NASCAR race.  The whole time I was working on it, Emmylou's song "Tennessee Rose" ran through my head.  So, there's that.

Here, finally, is Starry Night Bunny:

It isn't framing-ironed, but it is ironed.  I didn't do any of the backstitching in/around the stars and swirls;  it didn't look very good.  I've been slacking off on my backstitching lately, but you don't always have to follow the rules, huh?

Come Upstairs

 Briton has given himself a weekend in Chattanooga.  One of the "mandatory" stops there is the Tennessee Aquarium.  We have been there so many times: aquaria, zoos, animal parks were (and still are, frankly) musts when this family traveled.

(Quick aside --- the first time we took a very young Briton to the Aquarium, about three-quarters of the way through the building, he sort of threw up his hands and said, "Fish, fish, fish!  All they have here is fish!")

ANYWAY, to get up to the main exhibits, you ride a long, steep escalator.  I love that part.  Truth be told, it's my favorite part of the whole thing. Briton just sent me this:

He remembers.

Celebration

Not the 4th of July.  The discovery of this:

Y'all, Dr Pepper has released other flavors before, and I have tried them and been wholly unimpressed, but this is amazing.  I found it accidentally, searching for Caffeine Free Dr Pepper on Amazon.  (For the record, I've only ever found that in Tuscaloosa.)  The coconut doesn't seem to be available anywhere here, but it is worth searching out.

The pain (gum/lip/sinus/cheekbone, oddly) continues, and caused another night of fitful sleep.  Why didn't he give me Hydrocodone this time around?

I'm working almost exclusively on the Seven Color Fox.  The stitches are laying so beautifully, which always makes me feel fully accomplished.

Yesterday, I watched the film "The Zone of Interest."  Stunning.  In every possible sense of the word.  I'm still sitting with it, so can't come up any other things to say, but watch it if you can.

Slow Train

That's what I feel like today.  Moving, but only enough to be discernable.

Not much sleep was had last night, as the implant made sleeping on my right side extremely uncomfortable.  Today, I'm still sore, and the teeth on either side of the gap are still a little numb.  That doesn't bother me, as it means that I didn't feel the roof shot yesterday.  There's still enough swelling and pain that I couldn't wear my bite plate overnight, nor my Essix today.  My therapist got full view of the gap during my session today.  And heard the whistle that comes with it.

"Whistle," "train" --- the theme is holding.

A few more cross-stitch pieces framed:

The fit here is a bit tight, but the color was too good a match to pass up.

I had a couple of pieces that would have worked in this frame, but went with the Christmas:

Another color match:

I still like my Winter rabbit very much.

Pretty, but unframed, my girls:

 So many days lately have been too hot for them to spend much time on the back porch, but they've been out there today. The pillow is curved in just right for either of them.

The Needle and The Damage Done

Thank you for all the good wishes --- they seem to have worked!  The dentist double-numbed me up, remembering how the shots in the roof of my mouth were so awful.  That's wearing off, and I'm starting to feel some pain.

From what I could see and hear, the implant was much, much more involved this time.  There was even a little socket wrench!  Funny to see the dentist working in my mouth like being under the hood of a car.  Hopefully, that little implant sucker stays put this time.  

TNT-wise:Maybe a third of the way through?  The issue I have with seeing the pattern through the floss may have been solved.  The solver?

The Seven Color Fox.  I love this.  I didn't see that it was another stamped piece when it was ordered, but I'm so glad it is.  The instructions say that once the piece is done, soak it in water for all the ink and grid marks to disappear.  My hope is that that will work with the bunny and girl.

Poor, Poor Pitiful Me

Tomorrow is the oral surgeon's second shot at putting in a bloody abutment.  (The abutment itself won't be bloody...  You know what I mean.)  I am steeling myself for the agony that is one set of the anesthetic injections.  Already having to pay for all this twice, I'm punting on having myself knocked out.  Thirty, forty-five seconds, maybe?  I did it before...