Last weekend I was tired and sat and stitched quite a bit. I finished this little pincushion, based on a Japanese Yubenuki (thimble) design. The wonderful kit came from
Chloe Patricia.
I've been thinking about making beads using this technique so I tried a spur-of-the-moment (I-really-should-be-doing-other-things) bead. I used paper, fabric and sewing thread that were handy for the base and a hand-dyed thread from
Art Fabrik.It doesn't show a pattern. Partly because I only used one thread so there was no contrast. And partly because the triangles patterns traditional in yubenuki are based on the angle of the thread and there was little angle to this thread because of the bead shape. I figured that would happen (which is why I used a gorgeous thread), but I also suspected I'd learn a lot from doing it. I think I did. I'm not sure how to do a bead with a triangle pattern, but I have some ideas.
Mostly this week's been a bummer, on top of being very busy at work. I've now added acid reflux to my fun bag of issues I'm dealing with. Mostly, though, I feel bombarded by sad news. On Monday I learned a friend's mother had died. On Tuesday that a good friend died. On Wednesday that another friend was diagnosed with breast cancer. And because my friends and their families are sad, I'm feeling sad, too.
The string was broken today. Today I learned a friend was honored as the Swedish American Woman of the Year. I'm not sure if it's just for the Chicago area or for all of the U.S. (she'd deserve it, if it is). And, of course, the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup. We did not watch the game. We did hear the fireworks and tune in to the immediate post-game hoopla and replays and soaked in all of the good and happy feelings.
For many years I've likened my friend Mary Frances to the energizer bunny. Or one of those bop-ems from my childhood--a weighted shape that you could "bop" and they'd pop back up. I thought she'd come back once again from her most recent medical challenge, but I learned on Tuesday that she didn't.
She was one of the most individual people I knew. Mary Frances moved at her own speed (slow and steady) and she just kept going and going and going. At times I marveled at how she could be so slow--she'd often take twice as long as everyone else to get settled and set up for a needlework workshop. She'd contemplate and think and read the instructions and ask questions and then once she really grasped it, she'd begin to stitch. Meticulously. She never seemed to try to hurry to fit in. She taught me that you do your best when you pay attention and do what you need to do--no matter what everyone else is doing. (And she taught me patience when we were partnered.)
Mary Frances paid attention and was generous. She was interested in everything and would share her interests. She would bring books, embroideries, or threads to show me that she thought I would like, based on what she'd seen me doing or heard me discussing. She taught me to try and be more generous and really listen to others.
She didn't finish many projects, especially in later years, but when she did it was cause for joy. She got so much pleasure out of doing needlework. She taught me to persevere.
A rather quiet person, Mary Frances was the backbone of several of the embroidery groups I've belonged to. Always there, always helpful and knowledgeable and generous. I wish I'd learned her lessons better and that I'd slowed down more and listened more to her wisdom.
I also spent time tracing the drawings for the crewel class. I found that the transfers really only worked once so I had to trace each design twelve times and iron each one onto the fabric. Where the lines weren't clear, I used a Pigma pen to draw them in. They're all done (I took this photo early Sunday morning when I was about half-way done). I figure each kit I make will take me about two hours of work, just kitting.
On Sunday we drove out to the Dunes and sat for a while overlooking the beach. It was chilly in the shade where we had our picnic. We drove a bit down Lake Front Drive and visited the houses from the 1933 World's Fair.
All are in some state of reconstruction. It's taking forever and we rarely see much progress on the outside. It has been fascinating to watch. They were all very badly deteriorated when the project began.
This is our favorite, a Florida house with decks and patios overlooking the lake (if the shore erodes much more, it will be in the lake!)
My hubby is reflected in the window--taking some serious photos.
This is an oyster plant. We didn't know so we stopped at the Visitor Center and looked it up. Strangely, the park rangers didn't know what it was either. But we found it in the book they keep on hand.
This is spider wort, in silhouette. They were everywhere near the dunes and just this year we have a few in our back yard (we're quite thrilled!) The plants are striking. Here are the blooms, pretty purple flowers:
