I’ve been enjoying the winter cactus blooms.
About five are fully opened. Three more decent sized blooms are on their way. More than half a dozen are just beginning.
It’s wonderful to have a blooming plant in the house again.
On the creative front, there has been drawing practice:
I’m especially fond of the basket drawing. Practicing circles and shading…that’s something I enjoy, too. Things are a bit lopsided, but hopefully that will improve.
Weaving happened yesterday while watching Z: The beginning of everything on Amazon Prime, about Zelda Fitzgerald. I recall reading a biography about her some years ago.
There has been some heart-felt stitching:
I’ve a few ideas for backings, but honestly, not a lot of vision is coming through. Instead, I’m merely enjoying the process.
The word cloth grew by two new words…with a little embellishment to boot.
I thought about my grandmother while photographing the winter cactus. I’ve put the one I started from her plant upstairs. I’m hoping the warm days from the sun streaming in and the cool nights from minimum heating will inspire it to bloom. It wasn’t showing any signs of inspiration in my cold dark bathroom, so we’ll see what happens upstairs.
I snapped a couple photos of the blooming cactus, then noticed I had something of my grandmother’s in the shot: the ceramic graduated measuring cups that hung on her kitchen wall during my childhood.
I happened to be there when she passed away and when her belongings were divvied up amongst her children. None of the grands were allowed, which was fine with me. But some cousins were quite concerned I was around…what did I want? what was I trying to get? I think mainly they were all vying for her rocking chair, which was a big part of her daily life. She loved that thing and, if she was sitting, she was bound to be in it.
My mom asked if there was anything I wanted as a keepsake and, if so, she would try to get it.
I wanted these.
Together with a blooming winter cactus, it is such a fitting reminder of Grandma. If the cactus from her plant blooms, I will place it here and photograph it again in memory of her.
Buggar wasn’t all that interested in the cactus. She kept wondering why I was poking her. (to get her to turn around, of course)
I think this one is my favorite…