loose ends

These swatches are full of them.

Loose ends, that is.¹

So is my brain.

Both have color ideas popping out in all directions; both are alive with seasonal enthusiasm and promise.

But for what? Most don’t seem to want to go anywhere.

Well, a few of the strands (and those only of the woolly variety), are ready, willing (and long enough), to stitch one experimental notion to another.

And happily there are enough of these (so far), to make it feel as though things are coming together.

But that is in swatch-sewing land where a blast of steam helps even disparate patterns collaborate.

In Gusset-idea-thread world, the strands are not so obliging. Indeed, their refusal to be stitched together (much less steamed into harmony), is making me a little nuts this morning.

It could be the moon.

Or perhaps it’s because Beryl and I are just now home from a visit with family and friends and have barely caught up with ourselves.

You know how it is. A diet of new sticks and motley conversational hues—

—can make a gal downright giddy.

How does a person relish the moment and cope with all the loose ends?²

Well, I did have my low-key knitting.

And also an ever-awesome dog, for Beryl fits in wherever we are.³

And now that we’re home— well the swatches really are reminding me that settling into place—

— if not always easy—

— is a thing we love and know how to do.⁴

So perhaps I should just get on with doing it.

(Also it’s past time to stretch and fold my bread dough—yipes. See you next week!)⁵

1. And thank goodness for that for how else would I find the perfect matching yarn with which to sew them together?

2. A friend of mine once told me that the easiest conversations happen between people with similar conversational rhythms, and while this makes sense it also means that when I’m with certain dear friends we’re usually juggling so many topics that some—indeed many— fall to the floor and get lost in dusty corners only to be recalled later… “Did she really say that?”

3. She also is an excellent travel companion as regular walks mean we have to slip off on our own;-)

Also I mentioned these prompts a couple of weeks ago and a few people started working with them so I thought I’d add the link again. I continue to find them restfully rewarding whether or not the image I end up drawing relates to that day’s phrase.

4. While I cavorted with my granddaughter, my dear friend Vicki arranged the swatches into an enticing composition for me to work with. Naturally they are shifting slightly as I sew, but without her nudge I’d probably not have started at all. So thanks V! Here’s to color collaboration.

5. My sourdough has a pedigree but not a name—at least not a name that I understand or recognize. As far as I can tell, they are fine with this. It certainly doesn’t affect their willingness to put up with my experimental bread-baking process. Indeed their tolerance and adaptability are remarkable—and up there with Beryl’s. Certainly both are ever thrilled about food and an outing. I wonder if Beryl knows their name? I wonder if she’d tell me?

And now I’m curious. For those of you who have yeasty friends, does your sourdough have a handle other than “my sourdough?” Are you willing to share it? I’d make another poll but only by you writing in the comments can I learn the actual names so…. please?