the World of Webmistress Ming

I woke this morning to a quote from A.A. Milne's book, "The House at Pooh Corner":

Now it happened that Kanga had felt rather motherly that morning, and Wanting to Count Things--like Roo's vests, and how many pieces of soap there were left, and the two clean spots in Tigger's feeder; so she had sent them out with a packet of watercress sandwiches for Roo and a packet of extract-of-malt sandwiches for Tigger, to have a nice long morning in the Forest not getting into mischief.

Ming's made it into the new century: I'm now active on both Twitter and Facebook.

Twitter was for business. Facebook is on account of family.

In brief, rumblings from the relatives in Reno (in the direction of my grandchildren, no less) mean that I need to be "out" out there.

So find me on Twitter and on Facebook as username cynthiaewer

Despite the very low signal-to-noise ratio of this means of communication, I want them all to know that I Am Watching.

Reading an article from Neal Stephenson recently, I was struck by a similarity: like me, Stephenson shuns the "social-networking, build-a-platform" author model.

Best exemplified by Stephenie Meyers, this truism holds that authors should be out, about and available for importuning readers.

Stephenson bucks the trend, and explained that his best and highest use is to write, not hang about message boards, follow friends on Twitter or attend conferences. For him, interruptions are the great productivity killer; give him an uninterrupted week, and you get a book chapter.

I came so, so close to ditching this blog. Just opening the database and letting the bytes blow off into the wind.

It wasn't so much a reasoned decision, as simple inertia. Having blog entries become the center of a distressing conflict with a friend took the heart right out of me; Q4 madness multiplied by a holiday-season vacation blew poor Ming's Blog off the front burner.

Back home a week, and all I can do is paraphrase Napoleon Bonaparte's famous utterance:

Apres vacation, le deluge.

And a deluge it has been, all domestic. From reopening the house to stocking the fridge to clambering up the laundry mountain, it's taken a week to address all the pent-up chores.

Hampered by the sun.

Or, more correctly, hampered by two doggies with no clue that just because the sun is up, it may not be time to get going on the day.

Piles of old rocks (petroglyphs or no) are not Martini Boy's thing, so I took this tour alone: climbing the hill of Palma Sola above Acapulco to see the ancient Central American petroglyphs.

They were breathtaking--and so was the climb. 549 stone steps up the hill, rutted and rocky. Two days later, my quadriceps still sting.

Our small group was led by tour guide Alex. He handed out walking sticks, cold water and Bimbo energy bars, (Bimbo being a popular Mexican snack brand). I thought to myself, "Uh-oh, looks like THIS Bimbo is going to need energy!"

The second row has just been added to the patchwork, piddly-squat corners and all--and I've reached a decision.

This is a Daoist vestment, and so I will heed Master Li's advice: I will create this garment slowly and with mindfulness.

Sure, my Western mind had the notion of "just go all-out this weekend and get it done before you leave on vacation!"

But negotiating those acute corners--most important, because of the high contrast between the black and the lighter fabrics--brought home to me that this was a Bad Idea.

Bad for my body, but more important, bad for the effort.

And here they are: the first blocks of the patchwork:

The beixin uses three colors: white, yellow and black. The arrangement is similar to a "tumbling blocks" quilting pattern, but the color scheme and placement don't follow the dimensional effect most often seen with that pattern.

Brighid, you might add a comment explaining the liturgical meaning of the colors and their placement.

As for this seamstress, I've replaced my concern for grain with an obsession with the quilter's "scant 1/4th seam".

Did I mention that quilting is not my strongest point? Nowhere does it hit me more than the "cutting out" phase, when it comes to patchwork.

I am not one of these people born with a whizzy-whacker in her hand--but with a background in construction sewing, I am obsessive about grain.

The challenge: cutting three colors' worth of 4.5-inch diamonds, while maintaining straight of grain.

I'm beginning the beixin project with the pattern.

As a starting point, I'm using a Simplicity pattern for a Japanese haori--but only to get a feel for the fit required at the collar. The beixin differs from the haori in several particulars, including the shape of the coat and the length of the collar, but the general construction is quite similar:

haori pattern