I've been stitching a little sunrise/sunset cloth -- the sun is berry-dyed silk, the river is Japanese indigo-dyed silk, the pink sky is a cotton square cut from one of my baby dresses...from when I was a baby. The mountains are calendar cloth. I don't feel like it's done yet but I'm taking a break. Funny how we can spend hours and hours on such tiny little things.
I got this wreath from Target because I thought it would match the curtains in the living room. And it does.
A year of brewing is long enough, don't you think? I think it was prettier in the jar than out of the jar.
The middle plant in the largest pot is a henna plant. It has grown so well and is about three or four feet tall. It will overwinter inside, hopefully I can keep it alive. The top right plant is patchouli and the bottom left is curry. There's also one small carob tree and a spicy scented geranium in the mix.
Here is the goji berry bush for which I still need to find a permanent home before winter. I find that fresh goji berries are not very tasty although the birds like them -- they are much better dried.
This is a deep sea flower dice bag on which mistakes were made but I'm not going to tink it.
Lots of onions overwintered from 2016's garden producing big, beautiful flower heads this past summer and some decent size onions as well.
I read that at one time in ancient Lemuria, onions made people cry tears of joy, that there was no need to be sad for the world. As civilization evolved, onions took on a different purpose, that of helping people to cry out the sadness that blocked joy -- and in turn their hearts would soften and they could experience greater clarity. I know how good it feels to experience tears of joy but don't think it's ever happened from peeling onions. Maybe I can change that.
I labeled the seeds Happy Tears Onion.
She's going to get a new outfit soon, probably a skirt and maybe a few accessories.
An October moon cloth that I stitched a few years ago as part of a moon & stitch ritual.
Tonight Talula and I will go out for our nightly stroll, first the front yard, then the back. We'll see the full moon, listen for night sounds and make absolutely sure there are no rabbits around. Then we'll come inside to hang the moon cloth and light a candle. And I'll wish for times of joy.