Lavender time and other vital subjects

The lavender is very good this year, and I've delivered several bunches to happy neighbors 

I counted seven or eight different kinds of bees and other insects, pollinating like mad things.  This bush is in a container where I let the roots go down into the ground. I do nothing for it. Nature's doing fine without my amateurish help.

The linen top is coming along 

The neck facings need to be finished inside and I have to decide how long the sleeve pleats will be. Then finish the hem and side slits. Done. 

The shirt puzzle answer is either

SEVEN

or

EIGHT 

Neck, hem, sleeves make four, two holes at front, two matching ones at back, eight.  Unless you consider one large hole in the back. Then it's seven.  

So I think the answer is: not enough information provided, like those advanced multiple choice questions.

When I first encountered this one I thought six, forgetting that in order to see right through, there would have to be matching holes in the back, too. But wait, who said there had to be two?So I'm a six, no, no, eight, no, hold on, it could be seven, no, we can't know, guesser.

Tuesday knitting group was small and fun. I showed the new sock toe-up idea, starting with a square, and it was definitely approved.   No new work to show. 

One member is off next week to visit her parents, her mom not doing so well, but her 94 year old father still playing tennis, active online, definitely a healthy old party. We agreed that, with favorable DNA, attitude was a big part of getting old in spirit or not.  And that hanging out with less healthy people wasn't good for your own health and assumptions about aging. Also that stairs are fitness machines. 

And  the latest PayPal scam which someone's husband fell for and is now unwinding. And today's latest episode of the food pantry saga in which I received a thank you letter addressed to.my.late.Handsome.Partner.and.me.  He never had any input into my charitable giving, and anyway has been gone 13 years. I demanded a correction. At this point they must feel this donor is cursed!

Happy day, everyone, every puzzle doesn't have a single clear answer. It's annoying. But we knew that.  And watch this space for more parts to the Food Pantry saga.

This blogpost  is long enough, I'll fill you in on a great Textiles and Tea tomorrow.

Resting Sunday

Today I'm trying not to spin, weave, knit, because my neck and shoulder are asking to rest. 

I'll walk and think.

Yesterday I made this, no idea what to call it, some sort of fryup. Spiced tuna, steamed broccoli, red lentil crumbs, bound with an egg, fried. Served with the rest of the apricot sauce 

You need plenty of spice here, and I added baharat to the already spicy ingredients. With the sweeter apricot sauce, good.

And since the very hot day Friday brought on the lavender scent, 

I cut a bunch for my neighbor. 

I do this each year, except last year there were no flowers at all, and I wondered if it had died. But this year it's back looking as fine as ever.

I was thinking recently about poet Padraig O'Tuama and his thoughtful newsletter, about our perception of time and other things. 

Here's a great new thought from him, which I'll pass on in his own words

And I have an example of art making something happen, not to me, but to an observer of my work, which then affected me.

This was years ago, when I had a local solo show titled Four Sisters, made in copper wire, black gesso and  metal upcycled items.

Most of the pieces suggested three sisters and an observer. None of my sisters made any comments on it though I had sent pictures of the pieces in the show.

Here's one, most of the show sold to collectors, so only a couple are here 

Then, years later, sister Dogonart said they'd all gone out for coffee and to look at the pictures. She said they kept wondering why it was called four sisters when they could only detect three people in the various works.

Then she said it suddenly dawned on her that the fourth was relegated to being an outsider, observing the group. The artist was the fourth, outside looking in. She was dismayed and said you must have felt you never had sisters. 

I suspect that's why I never heard from them about it, didn't even know they'd looked at the pictures. They got it.  They just didn't know what to say to acknowledge it. But one sister reached out, much later, as a result. 

That was the power of art, which words and my personal reaching out for many years,  had never achieved. It wasn't my intent at all. I was just creating a concept based on my experience, as artists do. So that came as a bonus.

In another context, here's an ink and wash if Four Sisters. 

It takes a bit of looking to find them all, a metaphor for the life of a large family, of which this was only half.  And any of these sisters could be any other, depending on circumstances. Identities and relationships are fluid. 

Do you have any experience where any art form, music, theatre, dance, painting, created an epiphany for you? Maybe you'd like to share? 

Happy day everyone, I'm off to walk in the sunshine. Trala!

The Giving of the Lavender Time

The lavender is just at peak knock you down scent, so I picked and tied bundles and now I have several happy neighbors.

 Also nice chats, keeping up my social requirements, which are not very high, a short visit is fine. 

And I may get around to picking some for me, too.