hand eye crafts

Head over to  Twinster's blog  and wish her a happy birthday!

Naturally, working the lion puzzle made me want to return to jigsaws.  This was my first stop: Sorry about the glare on the bottom left.  The art is by Charley Harper, and features winged creatures.  Birds, of course, but also a bat and a butterfly --- both, naturally  in that glare-y quadrant. Taking this apart to start on another, it struck me that puzzle-working has an interesting aspect to it.  We go all through the process of finishing the picture, then completely dismantle what we've just done. We tear it all up.  But then we save it, keep it for another time we feel like putting it together.  I mean, we don't finish a painting to destroy it, sure we'll come back later and paint it over again.  We don't finish a knitting project, rip it up and pack the yarn away just to return to make precisely the same thing again.  But puzzles allow us to make them, break them, and rebuild them at another time.  That's sort of what they're made f...

  She's been outfitted with a glucose monitor.  I read it with my phone, and the information goes to her vet. She's unfazed.

"Curious," "eccentric," "strange," "funky," "odd," "mysterious," "unnatural."  (My Desert Island Book is a thesaurus.  Seriously.) It has been a weird weekend.  There's been this simmering headache, first of all.  It's stayed low-key but will remind me it's there every now and again.  Ordinarily, my headaches just scream their entrances and never turn down the volume.  Who knew I was still capable of one like this?  🤷 Yesterday, I had the strong urge to call my mother.  Even though it's been over ten years since she died, there was just this "Call Mama" message going through my head.  Not it a sad or desperate way, just matter-of-fact.  We spoke every Saturday at least, so maybe it was something to do with that?  Nothing was or had been going on that I would have called her to talk about when she was alive, just that thought going through my head.  Maybe because Friday was Daddy's birth...

 

 The box of One Day We'll Be A Quilt, Save The Few That Might Be Made Into A Bolster That's Still Up In The Air: My poor abandoned poncho, with an anorak pattern behind it: A puzzle on The Verge: And the cross-stitch.  Can you figure it out yet? "I can name that design in x  stitches."

 Yes, it is true, I am returning to my cross-stitch roots. I never, though, had a keen needleminder like this time around.  It gets a little tricky with the metal spring part of the hoop.  I think everything's good to go and, whoop, the magnets and the metal do a little dance.   The full design can't be revealed, as this will be a gift.  But I'll let you in on it as the work goes along. Tap and I walked in a new place today, and found this bamboo grove. Bamboo in Georgia?  Odd, but true.