I’m Not Catching on Fire Today*

Thanks to all for the birthday wishes. There’s nothing quiet about having a birthday at a middle school. That said, the million hugs kinda make up for the bad singing. Mostly. Really I was looking forward to coming home and making art. Sounds crazy, I know, and I did meet up and have a drink, and then went and got my favorite Indian food and picked up a library book (very important). After dinner, I went straight to the art. I think I ironed for more than 4 hours yesterday. Impressive.

I didn’t get ALL the letters, thus proving that you can read a message even with some of it missing…

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The kids followed through on a good birthday present…

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No. I’m not cutting my wrists. Just a long-term wish that I never quite made real. Now I have to, or as the girlchild put it, I’m stealing from my kids…

So the bottom is another pile of people. It looks a little chaotic here…it will be fine with outlining.

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Kitten is my faithful studio companion.

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I think I had Calli for a while as well.

Then ironing legs…

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And the giant World in a Crotch. Which I realize will set some people off.

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Eh. Sorry. Not. There’s a good reason for it.

So Calli is still limping and got herself stuck in the weeds…she got up there but couldn’t figure out how to get down without jumping on the hurt foot. She’s going to the vet today.

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And I need to do something about my weeds.

Later at night, puppy is refusing to come back in. He’s fine, by the way. No more explosions.

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Just chasing possums or bunnies…he separated a family of something and they were squeaking out there. Poor babies. And then the coyotes started howling. He came in then. So he’s not a total idiot.

And I kept ironing.

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And kept ironing. Remember this thing is SMALL.

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I’m mostly through the 200s…ready to start 300s, I think.

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Not bad for a school night. And an old lady.

*Cake, Sheep Go to Heaven

She Doesn’t Wear Her Shoes*

Oh yeah. I’m 50 today. I know some women don’t admit to their age, but this one is fine. I embrace that crone. Bring it.

That said, yesterday was a challenge. After teaching all day and an almost 2-hour union meeting, I went to pick up the one dog…she’s limping. My ex was trying to help by playing ball with her, because I was late getting her. OK. I got this. Lift her into the car. She’s not limping a little. She’s limping a lot.

Get home, walk in door, go to get puppy. Oh crap. Seriously. No literally. So there’s just no nice way to talk about bloody explosive diarrhea. Yeah. So I’m looking at this miserable little puppy and a room disaster. Get him outside. He needs a bath. So does the bathroom. OK. Priority? A little worried about blood. Find old towels that need washing anyway. Put on floor. Go to get dog. He’s exploded all over the pavement outside as well. Big dog is still limping. But hey, diarrhea wins. Try to get puppy in, but he’s bitey. And breathing weird. Grab another towel, wrap him up so he can’t bite me or explode on me. Sheesh, this is like when I had babies. Call emergency vet. I have 11 minutes to get there before the exam rates go up. Fuck.

Get in car. Drive. Puppy making weird hiccupy wheezy breaths in the back seat. I put him in a crate so if he explodes again, it’s easier to clean up. I haven’t been a mom for over 21 years for nothing. They take him immediately. I brought my stitching because you never know how long you will have to wait.

Spent all day trying to support girlchild with internship application thing…which, if she gets it, means she’ll be gone all summer. Which makes me cry. But it’s what she’s supposed to do. And it would be an awesome internship. Still makes me cry.

They call me in. Damn puppy is sweet as hell for them. Doesn’t try to bite them. No breathing issues at all. He saves that shit for me. He’s miserable. Yes…he needs meds. Probably giardia…I get there in my head before the vet even suggests it. Rainwater. I probably didn’t dump the water bowl after the last rain…plus honestly, with the amount of water we’ve had, there’s probably a bunch of standing water in the yard that I don’t even know about. I dumped the fountain over trying to get rid of some of it. Damn puppy. So he gets a shot and pills. (note to emergency vet…if I’m supposed to give him halves of a pill that doesn’t halve easily, my other vet halves them for me so I don’t shoot pills all over the kitchen while trying to cut them).

I get home. My dinner plans are ruined (supposed to go to book club). OK. But before that, wash puppy butt. Then wash bathroom floor. Then wash backyard pavement. Finally wash outside water bowl. OK. Dinner.

Well I was supposed to make my own “cake” for my birthday. Had a recipe I wanted to try. So I did that. Yes. I made dessert. Because. Just shut up and remember all the bloody poop.

As I’m putting that in the oven, boychild sends message…do I have time to Skype? Um. OK. Yeah. Thinking there must be something wrong? Or? So I set up Skype on the new iPad (passwords dammit) and there he is! Looks the same. Still no roommate (lucky). It’s a Skype question. He has a Spanish class where he has like a penpal (they have a better name for it)…and they have to talk to each other. She’s in Colombia. Very cool. But he’s trying to test it out beforehand. I barely see this kid in texts when he’s at school, so this is nice. Pretty sure he didn’t plan it for the day before my birthday, but I’ll take it anyway. He’s another one that might not come back this summer. He’s willing to take the explosive poop dog though (he SAYS that, but he might think otherwise if he’d had to deal with the mess today. Actually. No. He’d probably still be OK with it.).

Conversation over, nice long one (he’s procrastinating doing a homework assignment about Beyonce…don’t even ask)…I go back to the bedroom for some reason, considering what I’m going to eat for dinner (at 10 PM now)…Ugh. More diarrhea. Shit. Literally. OK. Got this. Clean it all up. More than one incident. I did take him out and he did nothing. Sigh.

Puppy is not happy.

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Finally eat dinner. It was not fancy. It had cheese and bread. And tomato.

And sit down. Finally. Almost 11. Yeah! Some days.

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Aw. Poor baby.

Did not do leaves…did that orange/pink thing on the left side. It’s got a name, but hell, I don’t know what it is. Lazy daisies connecting in a zigzag.

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And then, with a willpower that is kind of amazing sometimes…I sorted tiny little fucking pieces while watching the end of Victoria. I’m still conflicted about that show. I love it, but I wonder how much of the depiction of her is truthful. It’s a little on the Jane Austen end of the girly spectrum. I have a hard time with that shit.

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I don’t doubt that a woman can be strong and needy at the same time, or that she was young and had some typical flights of fancy associated with that. I don’t know much about Queen Vic…so that’s my own failing. Nine kids though. Yeah. She probably had someone to deal with explosive poop episodes. And someone to bring her dinner when it was all done. Lucky.

So the paper doesn’t like to stick on the little tiny pieces, unfortunately. These are the losers that lost their paper. Or that one tiny one I can’t read. Bad old eyes.

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I’ll figure out where they go later. All sorted, ready to go. No big pieces in there. Nope. Uh huh.

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So it’s my birthday today. You might have heard. I’ve got a few minor plans, but the big one is (Not Grading) coming home and starting to iron this together. I’m excited about that. I’m hoping there’s no poop issues too. But if there are, I already have dessert made.

(Today’s title is me. Because I never do. And that’s been going on for a long time. School really cramps my style.)

*Cars, Let’s Go

Love Was Changing the Minds of Pretenders*

Hello International Day of the Woman. Hello American Day without a Woman. I salute you both with a uterus and a few women at work in stereotypical ways…

Art Quilts and Fiber Arts

This is from my newest piece, I Can’t Be Your Superwoman, which can be seen in full at the Visions Art Museum in July. I am going to work today. Yes I know some school districts have shut down for today, but I also know my population. It’s not good for my kids. I won’t shop for anything. I might need to buy food at book club tonight, where we will be discussing The Handmaid’s Tale, which I finished (for the 17th time) last night at around midnight. I’d forgotten the ending. I’m wearing red…ironically, it is my union meeting today as well, a day where we also wear red. Not my favorite color to wear, honestly…but there’s a message there…especially after seeing how the GOP’s healthcare plan bashes women for their reproductive systems. Bashes poor women and their families across the board. How is this better for all? Their ignorance is noted. Their misogyny is noted. Abortions will be expensive and difficult to get…ironically, only the rich will be able to get them. Birth control is again on the chopping block, and maternity care…really GOP? You care about the unborn child but not the mother carrying it? It’s like going back to the Dark Ages. The elderly with no additional income? No break? Pay more. I am lucky to have a good job with good insurance. I know people who aren’t so lucky. I’m betting Viagra is still covered, and so are procedures for erectile dysfunction. Don’t mess with a man’s right to be a man; penalize a woman for being born with this inconvenient set of parts that just happens to be the source of new men (and women, hallelujah).

Feminism

Rants aside…hug a woman today. Or a womanchild. Try to walk in their shoes. If you are a woman, hug harder. We need all the support we can get.

More leaves. At some point, I will have the guts to venture out of the leaves. At some point, the tree will tell me to leave. Ha. Leave. Funny.

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I was a pet couch last night for a while, until I shoved them off and to the side so I could work.

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So here’s how it works when I don’t go to bed early enough…first of all, I started cutting out pieces after doing some other stuff. It was going OK, but looking at the pile, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to finish last night. OK, no problem. I don’t think I said I had to be done on Tuesday. Just keep cutting. I’m watching Victoria at the moment, which I have some issues with (ironically feminist issues), but it’s still nice to watch. I’m tired. I look at the clock. Huh. Well it’s only about 11:20 PM…I’ll finish this episode and keep cutting and then go to bed. End of episode comes. I look at the pile of what’s left and it’s SMALL now. How did that happen? I was not paying attention. Well dayum. I’m not quitting now. It’s not going to take long. Start the next episode, keep cutting until I’m done.

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So that’s how I stay up too late, although I did OK last night. After midnight? Yeah, but not too bad. Then I went to bed and read the last 10-15 pages of The Handmaid’s Tale, because I knew I wouldn’t have time today before book club. That probably didn’t help. But that’s how my brain rolls. And now tonight I can sort pieces and maybe start ironing the damn thing together. Certainly tomorrow I will be ironing…ironing a woman down…ironing down a protest quilt. Seems like a good thing.

*Earth, Wind, and Fire, September

Everybody’s Got to Know the Word*

Things you’d rather not come home to…

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I got an email about this from my neighbor sometime midday (this is my property, mind you). The water pipe that’s been leaking for weeks…but maybe you could check with me in enough time for me to register a complaint? Or give approval even? But no. Sigh. I wish we had a good enough relationship for that.

It’s OK. When I first got his description of where he was going to dig, I was worried about the tree, but it should be OK.

I got the email at the beginning of a 2-hour staff meeting where I’m not allowed to have technology. How to get through a 2-hour staff meeting? I draw. My brain is in slow-processing mode in the afternoon…always. I’m voted most likely to fall asleep and/or get in trouble. And I can’t remember half the stuff they talk about because I’m not allowed to use technology to document it. I have piles of written notes in random-ass places that I will never find again. I don’t need more of that. So I’ll put it here…

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Of course, I may never see that either. I figure I must have been hungry for this one…

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For a good breakfast. And on fire. Or tired of the discussion…another 30+ pages for the April meeting.

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Yeah. I’m not getting much out of the book study we’re doing. I am drawing though. So I never found the other sketchbook. It’s hiding somewhere, I hope. But I found one I used to carry around. These are oldies…

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I can’t explain why the person who is supposed to be driving is reading a book.

Most of these were done in restaurants, waiting for food. Somewhat disturbing…

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This was my birthday four years ago.

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It never stops, the drawing urge.

I did more leaves. I may do leaves until the end of time. I did a lazy daisy nested in a lazy daisy.

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And then I cut for hours. I refused to do schoolwork. I just couldn’t. And I was hoping to get done with this. But no. You can see what’s left to cut out on the top right.

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I did a lot. I think I even did most of it. But there’s still a hefty chunk in there. At some point, my hands hurt. I’ve been trying a new pair of scissors. They’re nice and sharp, supposed to be ergonomic and for craft cutting, more paper and fabric than just fabric, but the spring action on them is harder to manage. I wonder about whether they think that’s good because I don’t have to pull them open again, but I do use more energy squeezing. I’m always thinking about how I’ll keep making art when I’m ancient…and maybe I’ll stop sewing, which would be sad, and start painting with big wet brushes, a la Matisse in his later years…big paper or canvases on the floor as I wheel myself around, caregivers racing around trying to control the paint splatter. That might be worth it. It’s true I wasn’t always a fabric artist, so I don’t have to be one forever…but the medium seems to have stuck. I’d be sad to leave it behind.

*Cameo, Word Up

The Soul within Will Tell No Lies*

I’ve just spent 10 minutes I don’t have trying to find my small sketchbook. I know it’s in here somewhere, because I used it less than a month ago or maybe exactly a month ago, yes, that’s what it was, and I’m the only one who lives here, so it IS wherever I put it last. That’s frustrating. It must be nice to at least mentally blame it on someone else in the house who possibly moved it or at least doesn’t remember NOT moving it, or in the boychild’s case, remembers where I left it and can tell me, thus turning it into a win.

I’m sure it’s somewhere logical, at least logical to me at the moment when I returned and photographed the three drawings I did in it at the last staff meeting, because that’s why I need it. I’m already up early for a parent meeting and then I have to sit through two more hours when I am at my tiredest. Yeah. Need drawing for that. There’s no freakin’ way.

The left eyelid is back to twitching. I know at least part of it is due to not enough sleep the last two nights, stress waking me up or some noise or some barky puppy. Last night, I was trying to finish reading the stuff for today’s staff meeting. It still seems vague and undefined. I’m sure that will all be solved by the meeting (insert rolling eyes here). One teacher called it dense. It’s repetitive, actually, and vague. I need more specifics. Presumably those are in later chapters. At the rate we’re reading, we’ll get to that in 2020.

I did manage to get a few things done yesterday, even though work sucked up some time…sending out the weekly parent email for the whole grade, plus warmups for the week, and trying to make a rubric that’s not stupid for these projects the kids are supposed to be completing this week. Behold the clusterfuck! is what I think I’ll be saying on Friday.

I started by finishing the ironing on the newest quilt…only 64 pieces, because it’s tiny…but finally more color.

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There’s all the pieces…mostly tiny, really. And not a lot of them.

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My parents gifted me this book by local author Christen Brown, as an assist on the year of stitches.

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I forgot to photograph what I did on this guy Saturday night…more bullions and the start of some chain stitching…

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And then this one, 60 days or so in…added more leaves. There’s more! I did use a stitch from the book…a lazy daisy with a tiny bullion knot on the anchor stitch.

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Puppy was curled up next to me but got tired of my moving around and so he pretended to be a cat.

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There’s my regular seating corner. The quilt ready to be cut out (I had been cutting until I remembered I had to read about 20 pages in a book for the meeting today), a puppy asleep, a cat mostly not asleep behind my head.

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A random dog toy.

So I didn’t get much cut out because of that book. I was trying to read and watch TV and focus on whatever and it was largely ineffective. It didn’t help that it was after 11 PM. Oh well. He (the principal) can’t expect much the weekend we were all working on grades. And I can’t expect much to be cut out. Tonight I’ll do better…

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I keep thinking I should solidify my schedule on this one, especially if I need to get another one done after it. It’s March 6…I should be able to get this cut out and start ironing this week, maybe get the ironing done over the weekend (remembering that I have to do taxes and probably grade some shit). Then iron it down to the background by the 13th, and do stitch down that week. Quilting the week of the 19th? Be done by the 25th…that’s late though, if I’m really going to get the next one done. Huh. Well. I should pull the next one out. I have to make a decision about making another political one or making one for the show in July, which is fully dependent on a show I entered that notifies March 15. OK. Well no decision until I have that notification. If it’s a reject, definitely do the next bathtub. If they take one? I’ll have to make an executive decision. If they take both? Do the political one. The one that’s not drawn. That might make the decision right there, if it doesn’t get drawn before the decision has to be made.

At least I can see it all in my head now. I needed the space to talk it through. Reasons why I have a blog…it’s not for you…it’s for me. This month. Sheesh. And I lose a week in April…for a good cause though, my mental health.

*Nightmares on Wax, You Wish (there was no actual singing in the version I was listening to…)

“We Lived, as Usual, by Ignoring.”*

So I was trying to pick a place for dinner this week, a celebration dinner, and I was cruising through Yelp…one of the restaurants that I was considering (and now am not) was Bo Beau, one of the Cohn Restaurants here in San Diego. They have great food and interesting restaurant environments, but on their menu is a statement, a political one for sure, that I just don’t agree with…so I won’t be eating there. Ever. It’s that statement that they will be including a 2% surcharge to cover increased minimum wage and health costs for their employees. You know, most grownups who run a business realize that this is a good thing for the people they employ, that even if you don’t personally want to pay for better wages, for wages that actually might support someone, you should keep your mouth shut to your customers. Because you just lost one…well, and since I influence a few others, a few others will also not go to your restaurants now. Any of them. Good job. I teach the children of some of those minimum-wage workers, Cohn Group, and your lack of respect for their needs and for the vote of the majority is telling. Telling me to go somewhere else.

Don’t get me wrong…wrap that surcharge into increased prices without making it sound like you object to paying your lowest-paid employees more? I have absolutely no problem with that. I want them to be paid more. But stop whining about it. I’ll go somewhere more mature about people’s rights to a fair wage.

I’m in political brain mode at the moment, drawings slamming into my head. Wish I had time for that. Part of it is the next birthday, age 50. I’m OK with achieving cronedom in general (wish my uterus would get the hint), although in the specific, there are things I would change in my own life. But that’s a work in progress, always. But the daily wham of stupidity and disregard I see in my elected officials? Sheesh. Meanwhile, my book club is reading The Handmaid’s Tale, which I read when it came out or soon after…1985…the year I graduated high school.

Here’s my cover…it fell off this time I started rereading it…

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Now I just marched in January for women’s rights…because I’m tired of being told I’m not worth as much, I’m not as smart, I can’t make decisions, I’m too emotional or illogical, or whatever other bullshit you’ve come up with about my DNA that makes you think you can decide for me…

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The variety of covers for the book over the years is intriguing…how they decide to depict what the story is about. I’d forgotten about the personal part of Offred’s story. I remembered the main part. It’s been a while since I read it last…

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Pears. Pears?

I also marched for women who couldn’t march. I marched for more equality for ALL women. I realize being white makes a lot of things easier for me than if I were any of my students, women of color, women with disabilities, women of a variety of religions, immigrant and refugee women. It doesn’t make sense to just fix it for the rich white chicks. It’s been unfair for so long…even more so for others. I’m tired of it.

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Don’t tell me to smile, to laugh, to ignore. Don’t shut me up. Don’t tell me to be nice. Don’t apologize for me.

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Some women having more rights than others for any reason doesn’t make sense. A bunch of rich white men making that decision doesn’t make sense. Why would we want to go backwards?

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This cover completely creeps me out. It’s from the first edition hardback released in Canada in 1985, artist Gail Geltner…a collage artist and feminist.

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I watched 10 Cloverfield Lane last night and there was a creepy moment in the movie when the male character couldn’t come up with the word “woman” with regard to the main female character. Although she was obviously an adult, he used “girl” and “princess”. As creepy as the movie was across the board, that moment sticks in my head. Like YIKES.

No video for you though…sorry.

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Yeah, I enjoyed my foray into the Prisma app.

This is a nice cover…except why flowers? Because she’s fertile?

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And they’re calling the 1980s vintage again.

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This cover…there’s pills and syringes and umbrellas and gloves and nooses? With your umbrella? The bleeding heart flowers…those are from the book.

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I actually think this is the best cover of all of them.

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If you haven’t read this book, you should. It’s relatively short. And Atwood is an amazingly eloquent and psychic writer.

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Here’s the whole picture of the wall (a WALL?!) that’s on my cover. A wall? Controlling women? Controlling immigration? Getting rid of the constitution? Protests? Oh sigh. It’s going to be a long presidency. At least I know there really was a conspiracy against those with uteri…I didn’t imagine it. It just wasn’t in my face all the time. Now it is. Thanks.

With that, I’m going to wear what I want to the grocery store and read the signs and buy what I want, even lotion if I like it, and I’m going to come back and make some political art with a uterus in it (oh wait, dammit, there’s no uterus in this one…just a vulva big enough to hide the world in). And you can’t stop me. Yet.

“We lived, as usual, by ignoring. Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance, you have to work at it.” Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid’s Tale

Am I Already That Gone*

Field trips…usually I like them. I suspect some of the annoyance this time was my incoming mood. But whatever. I liked the movie…this ice chest frightened me. I think it weighed 100 pounds, all ham sandwiches. And the seatbelt wouldn’t fit on it. And every time the bus driver took a turn, it would shift ominously toward me. Death by ice chest.

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We arrived safely…my upwards sky view of the Fleet Science Center…

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This is when my group of kids started to realize I was one of their stranger chaperones. Whatever.

I’m posting this for Julie…because it’s a bike. With fish cutouts. That were used (?) to print the fabric. Except I can’t figure out how they did such tight turns in the middle. And because I was trying to follow and keep track of 10 diverse individuals in the museum, I couldn’t even find the card to read it…

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Same with the Sherlock exhibit. I went through twice, but so totally didn’t have the brainpower to figure out the mystery.

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But I took selfies with the props.

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Which makes me kinda like a middle schooler. No attention span, but damn, I got a selfie. I dare you to solve that mystery while you’re trying to keep track of 10 12-year-olds.

This was cool…it was at the start of the Sherlock mystery.

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I wish I could say I’m gonna go back and figure it out, but I think the Fleet just makes me think of school field trips and I’ve got PTSD on that right now.

This is what happens when you send photos/video of Simba to the girlchild right now…

She misses him. She can have him at the moment, because when you have a lot of work to do, he’s an annoying butthead.

So I stared at this a lot last night. I did start drinking at some point. It’s OK…by then, I was watching videos the kids had made and was laughing.

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Maybe that was the wine. Fuck. But you know if you’ve never been a teacher or lived with one, you just have no fucking idea what it’s like. I stress over my job and the kids and the time it takes constantly, and there’s no easy solution to any of it. And this year has been so hard with all the planning. I’m done. But I can’t be. Because I’m a responsible adult. No really, I am.

I’ll be staring at that screen for about another hour or two this morning, and then I’m done. Seriously. For Trimester 2. There is still another trimester. Sigh.

For those of you who were worried that I had lost Block 3 of the Folk Tails quilt…I was pretty sure it was sewn to another block…and it was. There it is…something about elephants needs to be sewn down.

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For a while, I was trying to get all the wool bits sewn down first and then I thought I’d do the embroidery, but at some point, the embroidery needs to be done before you can sew stuff together, so I started doing that. So freakin’ organized. Anyway. I’ll figure it out.

I did two nights’ worth of stitching on the tree…it’s looking better with more variety of color and stitch types. I added a double fly stitch and more lazy daisies, but in a different color.

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I’m glad I picked black for a background. It’s nice…although I can’t use any really dark colors. Pros and cons. Probably this is why I usually pick dark backgrounds for my quilts…I like the color pop.

Then I headed in to the studio to cut more fabrics, another hour and a half in. I did the heads and some of the hair. It doesn’t seem like much…

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And there’s still not a lot of color in this piece, besides the flesh. There will be more. I’m hoping to finish the rest this afternoon. There’s not a lot left…

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But I have to finish grades first, so they’re out of my hair. I still have kids trying to turn in late work. This morning. Nope. NOPE. Gradebook is closed. Respect my time. I have a hard enough time doing that myself.

And then art…because I’m tired of grinding my teeth and having my eyelid twitch. Gimme a break.

*Sarah McLachlan, Sweet Surrender

If You Bring Your Blue Sky Back*

I seem to be running late all the time. Not sure what happened. I know the left eyelid is now twitching. Last weekend it was the right eyelid, but I exercised and tried to take care of myself and the crazy backed off. I try to manage that stuff, manage the stress, but at some point, until I get a handle on grades really, it’s not going anywhere.

So I hung out with friends last night (that’s one thing that helps)…but I couldn’t find block 3 of the Sue Spargo thing I’m working on. I pulled everything out of the bag and looked at the picture. I know it exists. I remember sewing all those freaking spots on the tree…don’t I? Sheesh. The other Kathy (I stitch with another woman named Kathy, not my alter ego, although that exists as well) claims the cat stole it (certainly a possibility)…but I think it’s just sewn onto another block that’s in the other box where I’m sewing bits of wool on, the box I organized like last summer. And then forgot about. Yeah. That one.

Stitching is one of those things that reduces my stress, even when it’s 70 billion bullion knots. Julie (one of my other stitching friends) reminded me that when I started my first Sue Spargo quilt a million years ago I was terrified of the bullion knot, and then I did 90 trillion of them on one block and I was cured. True story. I can do bullions in my sleep now. So I started on block 4…with a bunch of bullion knots.

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I’ll find the other one eventually. Not this weekend.

I spent a lot of the evening with doggy attentions. They are really missing hanging out with my ex (I told them it was this weekend too, and they are now even more upset…I am that boring…and I WILL be this weekend, until grades are done)…you will NOT grade. Because I am on your lap.

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They do seem more friendly than a few months ago. A cold and lonely winter? Or just getting used to the little bastard. Calli’s look is hard to read. Make him stop? Why? Oh Why?

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I might eat him…if you weren’t sitting here documenting the whole thing.

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Well I gave myself one episode of some TV show to grade shit. I wasn’t in the mood. Too late. That’s a good way to motivate me…when the episode is over, I’m done.

So I went and did something else to release stress…picked all the fleshy bits.

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Except I didn’t get to the heads. Yes. Heads. Plural. Seems to be a new trend for me.

I still have all these bits that go inside the body…bones and hearts and shit. I’ll get to those.

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But look how tiny they all are. Sheesh. This quilt. That’s the end of the 300s up there on the bottom of the picture. The stuff on the top is all the 200s and 300s that weren’t flesh. I usually do them after. There’s a bunch of stuff floating around the hands.

I’m at just under 3 hours in picking fabrics…probably another 2 to go? I could do that tonight, but I really need to grade shit. Hopefully by the end of the weekend though. I can’t grade nonstop. It hurts my head.

Fabrics I’ve used so far on the left (mostly pinky bits)…stuff ready to be trimmed on the right.

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I’m really looking forward to this little beastie. It’s a good size for getting expression out quickly…without killing me with a big quilt.

But before I get to any of that…it’s field trip day. With the tail end of a cold. OK. I got this. I think. It’s not like I have a choice.

*Peter Gabriel, Sledgehammer

Keep On Keeping On

The dogs are so excited when I come home from school and change directly into hiking gear. Of course, I haven’t quite gotten across to them the difference between hiking gear and gym gear, so sometimes they’re unnecessarily excited. And the little one tries to eat my shoes while I’m putting them on, so he really doesn’t get the idea of how he’s NOT helping me get ready. So we went to the same place as last time, which is kind of amusing because it’s a river valley and we had 3 inches of rain about 2 days ago. Yeah. So there was water. And mud. Followed by baths.

Same start as before…at least this was above water…

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Unlike this barely floating bridge…which Calli decided to forgo…let’s just wade through the stream, mom. I carried the puppy across…there’s a gap at the other end. It’s jumpable, but not if you’re a tiny beast.

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At some point, I realized it was going to be a muddy trip, so I went with it…this is runoff from the hillsides…the river is to the right…

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It was overflowing in places…

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And more was coming down off the hillsides, making more rivers…

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All in all, a muddy trip. Frogs though! That was nice.

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But wet. And muddy. I mentioned that, right?

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The wildflowers are starting to appear…

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And certainly, after baths, they were tired.

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I did more leaves…

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And I graded stuff…then made it in to iron…fleshy bits first.

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Crawling around on the floor to pick a range of fabrics…

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Got a bunch ironed down though…tiny little beasts.

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It’s going quickly though…

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That’s a plus. Well gotta get outta here early again for another meeting. Ugh. Yesterday was good until the last period of the day. It’s interesting how you carry that. I’m working on relieving stress. More art, more exercise, less of the bad stuff, less teeth grinding. Mantra for today (which already has an early meeting, a fire drill, and antsy kids). Yup. Keep on keeping on. (I don’t even have time for music this morning.)

Tell Me Darlin’ Please, Tell Me True*

Look! It’s March! Not February! Did anyone notice February? It’s so short. March is a weird month…if Spring Break comes in March, then it’s a nice month, usually punctuated by spring flowers and temperatures, bright blue skies and fluffy clouds, the first sunburn of the year if I go back to the soccer years, mostly because I would have forgotten sunscreen after months of winter (OK, we don’t have much in the way of winter here, it’s true). It’s also my birthday month, which isn’t really a big thing for me, but it’s a day in March. If it’s a school day and kids find out, then it’s a cross between really annoying and amusing. If you’ve never had 90 7th graders sing Happy Birthday to you in the morning, then you don’t know what I’m talking about.

But when Spring Break doesn’t come until April (and this year, not even the first week in April), the month seems to stretch out almost as long as October…a vast expanse of five 5-day weeks where students are losing their minds to pubescent hormonal slush and dreams of summer. This year is one of those, so February slammed by like a drunk clown, but March is gonna stretch out like a bad cold, uncomfortable and exhausting. The plus? Spring Break is coming. It will be here. I see it (I don’t actually…but maybe I will later this week, once I’m done with grades).

Yeah, I’m still sick and maybe a bit delirious. Sorry. I left my cold meds at school yesterday, so I had to go out last night to get more, and the nice pharmacy woman was only a little amused by my discombobulation. Sinus stuff gets me all wiggy. Can’t think straight.

So last night was not the most productive evening of all time, but shit happened. I put more leaves on …different color thread and different stitch. Gonna keep doing that.

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Then I was trying to finish an episode of something I was in the middle of watching, so I finally used the white pencil I found (at a store…ironically, last night, when cleaning the studio, I found one of the ones I had here)…and did the concentric circles behind the bird.

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Yeah, they’re wonky as hell. I like it. This block is done now. So that’s two! Wow. You don’t even wanna know how many months I’ve been working on this block. First there’s about 98 bullion knots in it.

Then I came in here and dealt with the mess. First I had to put all the fabrics away from the last quilt, which wasn’t a small amount. I always clean up the fabric stash between quilts. Helps me think. I like everything put away to start.

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I do need more storage though, and since this room can’t take any more storage, I’m going to have to dream about a larger space. I actually wouldn’t want to move the studio into one of the kid’s rooms (like they’re ever going to move out), because I like my corner view here…but who knows. Maybe I’ll go two stories just for more storage…some sort of loft thing. (Yeah right.)

Then I sorted the first 100 pieces. Sheesh, that’s some tiny shit there.

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Even the drawing, seen from across the room…it’s so small compared to the last one. It won’t take long…

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I didn’t actually start ironing anything, because it was it was almost midnight when I got to here. And I’m sick, so I should probably go to bed earlier (ha! I couldn’t breathe well enough to fall asleep quickly). Ugh. Colds suck. They just drag on forever.

If I feel well enough after school, I’m going to walk the dogs. They’ve been pretty impatient with me the last few days. They’re used to a lot more weekend entertainment than I gave them (rain didn’t help…they got a 2-mile walk)…and this weekend is a repeat of last weekend…they’re stuck with me again. If I don’t feel well enough, I will sit in the hallway and throw balls for them until they quit. But I also need to grade tonight, because I couldn’t deal with it yesterday. And then ironing stuff to fabric. That’s something to look forward to.

*Sarah Jarosz, Tell Me True