And here's the update for the Sunday stitching piece. Top picture is where it was on 12 June.
This is where I've gotten to by end of stitching today. The next time I stitch something on black, I don't think I'll use linen again. The inconsistency in the thickness of the threads is very off-putting so I think I will stick to black Lugana or another one of the even weaves where the threads are the same size.
Elegy for Jane
I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;
And her quick look, a sidelong pickered smile;
And how, once startled into talk, the light syllables leaped for her.
And she balanced in the delight of her thought,
A wren, happy, tail into the wind,
Her song trembling the twigs and small branches.
The shade sang with her;
The leaves, their whispers turned to kissing,
And the mould sang in the bleached valleys under the rose.
Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth,
Even a father could not find her:
Scraping her cheek against straw,
Stirring the clearest water.
My sparrow, you are not here,
Waiting like a fern, making a spiny shadow.
The sides of wet stones cannot console me;
Nor the moss, wound with the last light.
If only I could nudge you from this sleep,
My maimed darling, my skittery pigeon.
Over this damp grave I speak the words of my love:
I, with no rights in this matter,
Neither father nor lover.
1908 - 1963
12 hours ago