Grit: 100 Days: (89)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 89:

Feeling a project coming together can be like feeling the pieces of a life coming together, watching how the plans and ideas begin to work together to create the final garment. Sometimes when I am nearing a crucial point of a project, I kind of give up. I get that feeling that it isn’t going to look the way I envisioned, so I get cranky and put it down, hoping I will get the inspiration to make it work another day, and then it gets set on a back burner and ignored. That’s what this 100 Day Project is about for me, pushing through the frustration, or unraveling and starting again. Never too old to learn some grit and resilience.

Speaking of unraveling, “ravel” means “to unravel.”

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Sweetness and Steel: 100 Days (85)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 85:

Bring Joy! Bring Whimsy!
Let peace and comfort and tenderness
radiate from within you.
Let Love come into your eyes. And Fierceness, too.
Be Fabulous! Be Ferocious!
Be Sweetness and Steel.
Go into your garden and out into the streets.
Shake things up. And stay calm.
Be a well-regulated earthquake.

I finished the blocking of the squares, laid them out with Thor’s “help,” shuffled them around a bit (taking care for the claws—he thought it was a game), and stacked them and labeled them for putting together. Then I took the four extras and experimented with how I plan to construct them, and put a finishing edge around that in order to practice finishing. I made some hearts and flowers during church. And I mended the dog my grandmother made—Grandma’s squares.

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Beltane Moon: 100 Days (68)

Tying Up Loose Ends

Day 68:

I experimented with granny square eyes this evening. I think I have a pattern I can work with now (upper left corner of the X in the photo with the granny square in the middle). It ends up being a little larger than the other granny squares, but I think if I block the squares well, it should be okay.

And it’s the last day of Poem-a-Day writing for National Poetry Month. Whew. I’m a little pooped out from doing two projects at once. Next year, I think I might have to weave Poetry month into the 100 Days (make it all poetry?) or forego April Poetry completely.

Beltane Moon
by Beth Weaver-Kreider

Wood thrush calling over the hill by the pond
and moon caught in sycamore branches.
Chill breeze awakens, enlivens the skin,
a green fragrance rising from the fields.
What is calling you back to life?
Who is speaking your name in the shadows?

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