Thursday, 7 June 2012

cold in them thar hills

"there's no such thing as bad weather, only the wrong choice of clothes'
thus spake Billy Connolly
waxing lyrical about the land of his birth

it's so cold here in the Deep South that things need to be dried by a fire

even books

and having made a fire
i figure i might as well use the warmth to heat a dyepot

luckily it has been raining
so i don't need to go far for water
it's provided right outside the workroom
in bowls that aren't too heavy to carry
[thank you Dogs Above]

some contain mordants as well
[not of the canine kind, quiet in the stalls!]

while i'm watching the paper dry
and feeding twigs to the flames

i can stitch another book

knot a fringe

be grateful for small treasures

play with amusing filters on my pocket pinhole camera

and be grateful i woke up breathing on such a lovely day
any day, really


  1. books and fire go well together (hee heee hee)

  2. Lovely snapshot of a day. Life sure is beautiful!
    x Maria

  3. keep that ronnie girl away from your books-she's talking burning again. your post has that wintery sound about it.

  4. I am glad I woke up to your post this morning. So uplifting, made me put away the long todo list and tend to some stitching instead. Glorious morning here too, although not as cold.

  5. Sounds like a peaceful time of 'winter' work.

  6. Aahhh, another reminder of the breadth of this will be 90 degrees F here in the high desert today.......sending you hot breezes to help dry your tomes......glorious morning here too! ox

  7. I used ot hate living in the hills in winter..arghh.

    Now I show my ignorance about mordants and dying in general.
    I'm assuming a dog lover would not have to go far to collect a mordant? How convenient.
    I can imagine running aorund after him with a little bowl in my hand.

  8. you are amazing. And the rhythm of your day is refreshing.

  9. Awoman, sister.
    Your words are true.

  10. It's pretty nippy here too. My husband drove through snow on Friday. Sitting, sorting through rusty bits in a thin sunbeam. Grateful for small treasures and butternut soup with crusty bread for lunch .... yum!