Hallo, here I am, post funeral, or scattering of ashes…
Human ashes are slippery. Very alkaline, I suspect. I didn’t know that.
Mercury retrograde is over. My juices are flowing again. And neither am I too blue, right now, anyway. I find it fascinating that certain seeds sown in my life are fruiting now, in November.
No fruit, no flowers, no leaves, no birds, November…
Not so here. There are birds. Juncos, to be exact. And in my heart there is a fruiting. The coming of age of a lack of urgency, just like I talked about cultivating. Here is all rainy, and my mom dead and all, and nought but two bottles of stout in me at 3pm, and all seems as it should be.
I have been sewing steady for several hours. I got this idea that wine bags would sell, and they are such a nice way to play with simple fabric combinations. They are quick, too, and may fill that low priced product niche…here is the first set. I have made several more since. You’ll see.
I just like making something that will be so useful and complement a lovely warm moment…the giving of a bottle of wine.
Of course, I’m a beer drinker myself. BTW, I didn’t get too drunk th’other night. Didn’t want to.
I didn’t finish the funeral dress, you know. Of course. I did get the slot seams done, and I like the skirt so far, but I really didn’t have the creative spark in me at the time.
I ended up modifying some black clothes for a Berlin inspired outfit, for a decadent and tough woman. Pics to come, when my uncle sends them. My camera is of limited use, having a broken battery door, and therefore it is wedded to a humongous tripod. Not exactly portable.
Well, the complaints are coming in from a petulant 13 year old about lack of a proper meal, so I’d best get on it eh?