Lovelihood

As soon as I can tear myself away from my fiddly little hexagons (while continuing to ignore more pressing projects still on my list), I've got a few other things to occupy my free time.

Low-hanging art makes for easy prey for a toddler. Two frames down. Luckily, Ikea frames are inexpensive and available by the dozen.

Forgotten remnants from projects passed have been revisited and cropped down to one and a half inch hexagons, a lovely size for highligting and abstracting.

Mid-thaw and the birds descended upon our lone winter berry yielding shrub. I'm as clueless about avian species as I am about botanical genuses. All I know is there were about a dozen of them all flitting about the few low branches until Bear's banging on the french doors spooked them off.

To what end I'm making these little hexagons, I don't yet know. If I can keep it up long enough, maybe a quilt. If not, maybe coasters, despite the fact that we don't actually care about our furniture (as evidenced by the way we let the cat treat our couch) and have never before employed coasters in our home. I'm not one for hanging decorative quilt things on the walls. But I am actually considering indulging Bear's bedtime buddies with little quilts of their own. Not terribly fond of any of those ideas except for the first, so I suppose I've committed myself to many, many hours spent hand-stitching scraps of fabric.

Starting on the second day of this snow event, I've been working on this little tic-tac-toe mat for The Boy. The board itself, with a pocket sewn into the back to contain the markers, came together easily the first night. The hexagons, I've been shuffling around the house to work on while the kids work through their stir-craziness. I finished off the last marker this morning and handed it off to The Boy, who, appreciative of all things rainbow, went to work devising all-new rules to the age-old game.

It finally dumped on us last night, after a half week of threats. The Mr. and the kids, having been sequestered to home all week just on the promise of bad weather, wandered the house with cabin fevered angst. I, happy to be snowed in after a couple of foul-weather commuting days, settled in under some blankets with my hand-sewing.