rhiannon_black: (Default)
Quote of the day: “We're each of us our own chiaroscuro, our own bit of illusion trying to emerge into something solid, something real. We've got to forgive ourselves that. I must remember to forgive myself. Because there's an awful lot of gray to work with. No one can live in the light all the time.” (A Great and Terrible Beauty, Libba Bray)

Grey day, might rain.

Hands, though washed several times, are stained with charcoal. Next thing on list to add to art kit--fingernail brush. So I'll look like a dweeb post class (don't I always though?), at least I won't look like I have the plague, or something.
Read more... )

rhiannon_black: (Default)
Struck by the fact that laid is ugly in french. Oh, well, the little things that amuse me. I did not make it into class over the weekend. Tuesday evening I pulled a muscle in my left shoulder, didn't realize that it had been damaged until Wednesday morning. It was, however, on the mend. On Friday, I, in fact, raised my left arm over my head without thinking and without pain. So cool. Did something to it again on Friday, maybe accumulative little somethings. I don't know. I can pinpoint when I hurt it on Tuesday, not Friday. But oh boy howdy whatever I did Friday not only set me back but way back. I can, however, now raise my left hand to waist level. And there are long stretches without constant big dull aching aching aching pain centered on my acromion (sp) process. Woo hoo! Life is looking up. But it made the carrying of heavy tool cases and tote bags unwise. Not much I could have done. Wouldn't even have been able to saw anything at the bench pin. I need the left hand to clamp the metal down whilst the right hand saws. I could have filed and sanded. Well, filed for sure. Maybe.

Another cold front is upon us. Nothing like last week with our dips into the twenties. We're not even projected to reach freezing tonight. Close but not quite. I have fetched the poinsettias, the new scented geraniums and the curry leaf tree as well as the rosemaries into the car. If I had been feeling better I would have thought perhaps of the foil wrap still enclosing the one poinsettia this weekend whilst it drizzled. Perhaps not. I took scissors out with me and cut the wrap off and I hope that the plant didn't get too wet for too long.

Sandi and I met for brunch yesterday. It was good. And got my mind off my shoulder for long moments. And the way I sat seemed to be perfect and it eased wonderfully. When I am home I'm always asking too much of it. Even nudging the mouse to get the screen to pop back to life was too much. But we talked and caught up and ate sweet potato pancakes. I branched out--I had pepper jack on my grits. She mentioned, again, a book she has on textile techniques for metal and will try to find it for me to look at it. She said it might be next to my chain maille book which she has yet to locate and return to me. I told her about my less than satisfactory trip to Avalon and she allowed as she's had the same problems there. I mentioned that I would probably be going back to pick up some cheap 30 gauge wire. I saw a book on knitting and crocheting wire, didn't think it was worthwhile buying. And decided that I would get more out of playing around with wire and needles and crochet hooks and trying out different stitches. I think more than anything I need to get an actual feel for what wire will do using such techniques, that I will learn more, understand more that way than with a book. At least right now.

And yay oh yay oh yay oh yay! O frabjous day! Josephine Darcy updated three whole chapters tonight. And I have already read them. But only once each. You can tell I'm still not feeling well. In fact I have really begun to fade.

My false roselle is dead, brown and sere, a victim of the last deep cold. Too bad. It was an attractive plant. I hope it sees fit to spring back from the roots. I have no hopes that the scented geraniums will. Now I will have to keep an eye out for another peppermint and a robers lemon rose and such like. This time I will not settle for a snowflake rose without variegation. Oh, who am I fooling? You know I will. It still smells just as good.

I see much potting and planting in my future. Sigh. But a happy sigh. And when my shoulder is all recovered.

Profile

rhiannon_black: (Default)
rhiannon_black

April 2017

S M T W T F S
      1
2345678
9101112131415
16171819 202122
23242526272829
30      

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 25th, 2017 06:35 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios