Sunday, July 30, 2023

Of Crows, Moons, and Large Alien Eyeballs

Some would think the days pass slowly in Nod - especially for a hermit.
The winter days, yes, they are interminable...but the days of summer pass mercurially fast.

Many are spent counting crows.

One for sorrow, two for mirth;
Three for a wedding, four for death....

And the nights are spent with Sister Moon.
Every month for a lifetime, I have watched her blossom from a meek sliver into a round, ripe, melon in the sky.
But, lately, I have paid more attention to what a changeling she really is.

July 22nd:


July 24th:

July 26th:

July 27th:

July 29th:

One week... It slipped by so quickly...or perhaps that's what time does when one grows older.

For nights when the moon is shy and keeps to the clouds, I have a likeness of her in  my garden.


In her comment on my previous post, Marly of Samplers-and-Santas asked what the "large alien eyeball" was outside my dungeon window.


I explained that it is a gazing ball...atop of a concrete cat lying on its back, slowly being overtaken by rogue sedum, and promised her a photo.


The dungeon is in the basement and, therefore, the view from the dungeon window is at ground level.

But, yes, I do, indeed, see an alien eyeball.  🤣

Another day, and the moon will be full and a new month will be begin.
And so goes the rhythm of nature and time.

Goodbye July.

Saturday, July 15, 2023

Sepia Sampler...and Other Things That Begin With "Ssss"

I am still struggling with the souls stranded on the Isle of the Unfinished, but have rescued one:  "Sepia Sampler," a design by Lori Brechlin of Notforgotten Farm, is now finally finished and framed.  (The frame is not as black as it appears in the photo - there are wonderful wood tones that reflect the sepia tones of the sampler colors.)

{Stitched 1 over 2 on 36ct "Wren" by Picture This Plus.}

The smoke from the Canadian wildfires has once again enveloped Nod.
Every morning, every evening and every hour in between is shrouded in haze.

{Smokebush and Echinacea...and wildfire smoke}

This round, the smoke seems particularly irritating to my eyes so I checked on the back gardens, then retreated to my dungeon.

{View from the dungeon}
 
It's not such a bad place to be considering the "babies" are now hatched and out and about.
You know...those other things that start with "ssss...."


Yes, that streak of red on the left of the photo below is a very forked tongue.
They are every bit as feisty as the adults.


If you don't hear from me in a few weeks, please tell someone to bring bread and water....
On second thought, hold the water...make it wine.


Sunday, July 2, 2023

Yesterday's Roses

 

The days are slipping by while I am still standing still.  More than three weeks have passed since I last posted and I have little to show for the time, and even less to say.
So I thought I would show you yesterday's roses and a few other random photos.
 
We had one good rain a week ago, and that has been all. This is typically when our drought season starts but this year it has gotten a wicked head start.
Things have been hot and humid - the days smoke-filled and hazy from the wildfires. So, in some of the photos below, you may notice the gauziness of the skies in the background.

{Wisteria on Cornzebo}

{The teeny, tiny, house in Nod}

{Follow the red brick road....}

I continue to stitch a little - mostly on littles.  The Isle of the Unfinished, however, is becoming grossly overpopulated, so I have committed (🤣) to do better at final finishes.  

This is "Keeper of the Pins" by With Thy Needle & Thread.  I finished the stitching over a year ago, but now it is truly finished:

And this is "1864 Sampler House" by Chessie and Me:


Little Mia continues to grow.



And I continue to look up.



One never knows what one might see up there.

* * * * * * * * * * *
Happy July my friends - and Happy belated Canada Day to my friends across the border.