PRISMS AND POLKA DOTS

A heat wave is headed our way.  Won't see me outdoors on 90-degree days.  They'd find my charred body along the way somewhere.  At one stage of my life, was a sun worshipper, laid out in the hottest time of the day, greased with sun tan lotion like a basted turkey at Thanksgiving.  

Well, kids, my next insane project is now officially underway.  Gathered my needle, embroidery thread, thimble (rarely use), scissors, velvet fabric remnants, and a backing to start the Kawandi wallhanging.  Am not sure if velvet is gonna work as well as other fabrics, like cotton, but we'll see.  The stitching is a learning experience.  The Siddi people's quilts are made with small stitches, so that's what I attempted at first.  Think am going to increase the size of stitches.  It's gonna be my design, so can do whatever suits my fancy.  (Can anyone please tell me what my fancy is???)

The pieces of velvet I have in the stash need to be cut up, it's not like they're small scraps.  This adds another task and have to decide to either cut as I go or cut up a bunch of pieces and then pick and choose which ones to sew on.  

That's the fun of attempting something entirely new, and, for me, difficult.  There's always the chance that frustration might overwhelm and the whole shebang might take a trip down to the recycle room.  However, don't think that'll happen due to my tenacious spirit.  Oh, yea, there's a stubborn streak in me.  Some situations would require a skid loader to budge me.  Think that's an okay trait to possess, cuz, in my opinion, it's not so admirable to be wishy-washy or easily swayed. 

Photo taken with project on my lap.
First row.
Kawandi works from outside to inside of quilt.

 Coffee is nice and stout this morning.  Usually pour myself the first cup that's perked while the boys are outside on Cuddy's morning necessary stroll.  Nothing drives me crazier than weak coffee.  I call it fairy pee.

Had baked chicken thighs for supper last night, topped with the canned French fried onions.  It's the craziest thing about me and chicken.  I used to love only the white meat, but have learned to eat the dark and like it.  However, won't eat the thigh or the leg if the bones are in them.  Dale debones both.  There's one skinny bone in a chicken leg that makes me crazy, kinda like those round bones one finds in a can of salmon.  My mother was the one in our family who liked the chicken legs, and no one fought her for them.  My brother and I fought over the gizzard, of all things.  Actually, it had to be cut in half so we'd shut up.  Guess little sister liked whatever her older brother liked.

There's a haze in the air, which might be smoke from wildfires.  It's got the feel of a hot, steamy day.  Wonder if that's why I'm sneezing.

Nothing else to chronicle.  Spent yesterday watching documentaries about those explorers who trek into the Amazon jungles of South America and the Congo in Africa to visit pygmy tribes.  Guess the Congo is the most dangerous place on earth.

Must report that the hummingbirds and Orioles are visiting our feeders, bringing joy to our days.  Not putting up a wren house this year.  If the person living below us gets a wren family in hers, maybe we'll get to hear them sing their sweet little songs.  Nothing perks me up like hearing a wren tweet away.  Isn't it interesting how the smallest of creatures can lift our spirits the highest?