“The First Boucherouite” hooked from old bed sheets and a little t-shirt added in. It’s going to be a TV star!
My rug’s going to be a TV star! I just know it. Of course, it’s leaving me…in the New Mexican dust.
I can explain.
If you remember, I told you that I did well selling at the Santa Fe Fall Fiber Fiesta last month. In fact, someone really liked one of my personal favorites, the “First Boucherouite,” so she purchased it. While I knew I’d miss it, I’d named it “First” for a reason; I’m going to make another Boucherouite, bigger even, and maybe actually keep it for myself. I’ve already started buying the bedsheets at Savers.
Anyway, after the buyer had settled up with the cashier and left, show organizers paid my booth a visit. Turns out that the woman works for Better Call Saul – you know, the TV show created as a prequel to Breaking Bad. Both shows not only take place here in Albuquerque, they’re filmed locally as well. It appears the chick’s a set designer and always on the lookout for new materials to dress the set. All I knew is that she not only bought my rug, but a couple of lovely Navajo rugs and some other items too. (That I know because she and a friend – who bought one of my signature rugs! – were keeping their treasures behind my table as they perused the fair.) I was informed that if the television show intended to actually use any of the artists’ pieces, we’d receive a release to sign.
So life goes on. The episode makes a good story to tell, and that’s about it. Until yesterday afternoon when I opened my email. Loe and behold, there’s a message with the subject line: BETTER CALL SAUL TV REQUEST. I’m in the car. Tom’s driving. The kid’s with us. I tell her the story; she’s properly incredulous. Then she says, “You better be prepared when they cut the scene. They do that a lot.” Duh, but thanks so much, Debbie Downer. And I carried her in my own body for nine whole months…
Regardless of Miss Pessimism, we’ll see what happens. And I better start watching Better Call Saul. That’s not a hardship; I just have to find the time. Having been a big fan of Breaking Bad, I was planning on firing up Netflix at some point to catch the new show. New – ha! The email said that they’re currently filming the fourth season. Guess I better get a move on.
And on that note, I bid you all wonderful and light-filled Hanukkahs, Christmases, and New Years. I’ve decided to take the rest of the year off from regular blog posts. No fears, you can always find me on Facebook and Instagram. (I’m pretty new to Instagram, but I love it. It’s so much quicker than other social media, yet you still get to see lots of cool pictures of peoples’ work.) ‘Tis the time for parties and such (and concomitant cleaning of one’s house to make ready for those parties). Make the most of the holiday season. Find some time to relax. Gift yourselves with TIME to read and rest and to enjoy your family and friends. Oh, and to hook. Make sure you hook. See you in 2018!
Tynan and I wish you the brightest of holiday seasons! We have no “rug on the frame” this week; I’ve been crocheting lately, and the one rug I am currently working on is a surprise for Brigitte Webb to view when it’s finished. See you in the New Year!
Dudes and dudettes, it’s me again, Tynan! This is my family room bed and pillow. I have another set in the bedroom. I do, however, prefer the humans’ beds.
Hey, guys, I’m back… It’s me Tynan the Welsh Springer spaniel who happens to live here in Albuquerque with the High on Hooking chick. She let me have another go at the blog while she’s out playing with her little guildfriends for three days. They call it a “retreat.” I knew the whole rug hooking thing was a cult! They use it to get out of the house. Sure, she sleeps here, but she’s gone all day! That means no walkies for me in the Bosque. Instead she goes on the treadmill or does stupid aerobics or something in the house before she leaves. Don’t think I don’t get my revenge. After she leaves, I jump up on the bed. And NOT on the protective blankie on my side. No way, Jose! I sleep on her side and even use her pillow. Ha!
So, I thought I’d tell you a little about myself. As you know, I am a very handsome boy, a Welshie, though I was born in Connecticut, not Wales. I’ve lived with the idiots for nine years now, and I am actually fond of them. If nothing else, they’re a habit. And they do give me treats and take me places like Colorado. I am an only child now that the actual child’s moved out. Oh, the mistress is always threatening to get me a furry little brother, but so far no worries. The master sees to that. (Truthfully, though, I’m not sure he can hold out much longer.)
I thought that perhaps you’d like to see my toy basket. Could be a few more in there, right? You’ll see, however, how much they respect my ability to chew. I’m only allowed to have toys that won’t yield to my bite. Though check out those Nylabones. They aren’t my first. I’ll take these down too. Eventually.
This is my toy box. The tightwads could get me a few more, don’t you think?
Okay, I’m not giving up all my secrets today. It’s always preferable to leave a little mystery, keep’em begging for more. And since she relented and let me write the blog today, I can afford to be magnanimous. You’ll see her current rug, the Boucherouiteis what I think she’s calling it, in the photograph below. You’d think she’d be farther along after two whole “retreat” days.
Until I write again, your friend and informer,
Tynan
Tynen here sharing her current RUG ON THE FRAME. It’s the one influenced by the Berber Boucherouites she wrote about two weeks ago. She seems to really like it and has mentioned doing a large floor rug in the same style. I promise to lie on it to christen it.
I can’t believe that I forgot I hooked that rug! Yes, it went plumb out of my mind. Let me explain.
Unfinished and, therefore, unnamed rug being hooked with t-shirts sometime last fall.
Last night I was going through my laptop files looking for a particular rug photo. (I read a blog that encourages people to share their gardens and crafts and such. Of course, they want to see my rugs. 🙂 ) So, I’m combing through the blog file, the guild file, High on Hooking’s inventories, every file containing pics of rugs for whatever reason. And I come across this photo of an unfinished rug.
And I think, where the hell that rug?How come I haven’t been trying to sell that??? It was a pretty large, circular deal. About 28 inches in diameter.
Like many of you, I am not a woman who keeps things that bother me to myself. I less than casually mention it to Tom who responds with What rug? (Insert my eye roll here.) Once I show him the photo, oh, I remember that one! Thank God. I was starting to think senility might be creeping in. Then he asks about its whereabouts. Duh! Then he asks if I ever finished it. Of course, I finished it! I had to have done it before I started the big, blue floral rug around January 1.
I check the wicker trunk and the cedar chest. Nada. I take a cursory glance around the closet and laundry room, but they both hold my hooking raw materials, not finished rugs, most of which currently abide in my mobile store. It’s definitely not with them.
Again to the cedar chest. I do a better search, actually take things out. Nope. The rug seems to have vanished. I briefly consider that Melinda might’ve taken it. She reallyliked it when I was working on it. Nah, I would’ve seen it at her house. So, it has to be in mine!
Tom’s lost interest by now. I head back to the closet and the laundry room. Okay, I have not cleaned or sorted my laundry room counter in a very l-o-n-g time. Been too busy. This time I actually pick up some pile, move things around, and…lo and behold!…there, neatly folded, is that rug. I grab it, unfold it. Oh, the hooking is done – just like I remembered – but the finishing, not so much. Never bandy that word senility around so casually when you live in a glass house. It will come back to bite you in the ass.
I definitely hooked that rug. I most definitely did NOT finish that rug.
Now I have another job to do so that I can get this baby out to the Rail Yards and the other places I’m selling at this season. (That would include, I recently found out, the Sunflower Festival in Mountainair, here in New Mexico on August 26.) Since tonight I’ll finish hooking another rug (see photo below) and have yet to design something new, I guess that I’ll be sewing binding on the “Tree of Life” when I meet with some guild members tomorrow for a mini hook-in. Like you, I’d rather hook.
Last week brought some interesting news. Along with 59 other hookers who feel a need to share the hooking gospel via social media, specifically via a blog, High on Hooking’s blog was named one of the best 60 rug hooking blogs. (It didn’t specify where, so I’ll go with in the entire world.) I admit that when I saw the email that morning, I scoffed to Tom that it was some kind of scam, false news, as it were. But, no, when I got on Facebook later in the day, congratulations were flying. Thank you, Rug Hooking Magazine and Feedspot for a lovely and unexpected boost.
Lastly, Tynan is back with “The Rug on the Frame.” Though he did mention that it felt like a demotion after being allowed to write the blog last week. I told him that if he’s good, he’ll get another chance. And if he stops calling us idiots. This rug is a favorite of his, though he’d make me take out the “WOOF” and put in his name. Then I couldn’t sell it, I explained. Exactly, he said.
Tynan says, that rug should be mine. “Woof” is hooked all in t-shirt. Much cooler than wool this time of year.
Tynan the Welsh Springer Spaniel here. After using my likeness so many times to sell rugs, she finally let me write the damn blog. I’m choosing to tell you all about my, I mean, our trip to Pagosa Springs, Colorado, last week.
First thing to get off my chest: Freaking cheapskates should’ve sprung for the whole week at the condo. First time in two years I get out of New Mexico (sure, she’s jaunted off to Tucson two Januarys in a row to rug hook), and they give me just four nights away and out of the desert heat. Arses, both of them.
Monday:
The master and I leaving the Wines of the San Juan Winery in Blanco, New Mexico. There are two bottles in that purple bag he’s carrying. And nothing for me.
So, the ride from Albuquerque to Pagosa Springs is just under four hours IF you take the most direct route. Do we take the most direct route? NOOOOoooo. Hey, I’m as good a car traveler as any other dog, but it’s still not my most favorite activity. (Favorite activities involve food and belly rubs.) Did they ask me about driving the long way just so’s they could visit a winery? NOOOooo. The Wines of the San Juan place was in the middle of nowhere. Really. But they were good people and even let me in the tasting room. Someone could’ve tossed me a pretzel, but at least there was AC. Apparently, my humans liked the wines because they picked up a bottle of the Serendipity Merlot and another of the Rosé of Dolcetto. Do they know how many Frosty Paws they could’ve bought for the same price?
Since we’re almost always in the middle of nowhere in New Mexico and Colorado – most of the ride was two-lane highway – they are so lucky I don’t puke in cars. More importantly, there was nowhere to stop for lunch. Okay, the chances of them buying me lunch are pretty much a big goose egg, but a dog can dream. I could tell she was getting a little cranky. All those pretzels he ate in the winery were definitely NOT gluten-free. She got nothing. Just like me. Ha!
The ride was kind of cool, especially as we moved from the high desert browns and tans and the juniper greens to the lush pines and aspens and all that grass on the cattle ranches. Man, being from Massachusetts, I’ve never seen so many cattle ranches. I’m not complaining. Who bitches about steak…on the hoof? She took tons of pictures – far more than any one person needs, if you ask me, which no one ever does – like she always does, even made him stop the car so she could get out and focus better. Perhaps I would’ve liked to have stretched my legs too. Nah, I just wanted to get there. Besides, I had the whole backseat to myself. At least they put my comfiest bed on it.
Part of Chimney Rock National Monument just west of Pagosa Springs. We didn’t go here, just drove by it a couple of times. But I think a return trip is going to happen.
Finally, I can tell we’re getting close to the place. They start discussing groceries and whether it’s cool enough to leave me in the car while they run in to pick up dinner stuff. I HATE it when they leave me in the car. Or at least that’s what I let them believe. So’s I start my usual whining and crying when they turn into the parking lot. Hunger clearly doesn’t agree with them; they tell me to shut up. What I put up with. I lie down in my bed perfectly comfy.
The view from the condo’s deck. Nice. Just look at all that green grass.
Fortunately, it doesn’t take them long, and even better, the condo’s less than a minute from the grocery store! They don’t even leash me when we get out of the car! The place was great! Surrounded by all this long, green grass. Real grass, not that fake shit we’ve got in our backyard back in Albuquerque. I pee (of course) then rub my face and whole body in the grass. So soft, so cool after those 105° days during the heatwave in the desert. Reminds me of the old place back in Massachusetts that we left behind. With the chipmunks which we don’t have in Albuquerque. I miss chipmunks, though the little punk geckos are pretty fun to hunt. But I digress.
The condo freaked me out a bit when we first got there. Strange sounds; damn, my own toenails sounded so loud on the fake wood floor. And I had to be careful all the time or I’d slip. I much prefer carpet. The deck was pretty cool. Real wood. I liked hanging out there, but I wish they’d have let me off to catch that stupid cat that sashayed by.
That night we went out to dinner at Kip’s. It was great. They bought me a plate of fish tacos. NOT! I sat in the car then got to hear about the tacos and fresh salsa all the way home. Typical.
Tuesday:
Tuesday morning was good; the mistress took me for a walk. On the leash. Not optimum like in the Bosqueat home where I get to run free most of the time, but okay. Or it was till we took that wrong turn that kept us out for 90 minutes instead of the hour she planned on. Idiot. I’ll give her, she didn’t do that again. After breakfast – theirs, not mine, but at least I scored some banana, I love bananas – we…get in the car again! Didn’t we drive enough the day before??? They say we’re not going far. And we’re going on a little hike. Okay, I like to hike.
The most beautiful part of the Pagosa Valley. looks like a freaking movie set. I’m telling you.
We drive east, back through town. I can’t lie, there’s good scenery: mountains; lots of horses; the San Juan River and even river rafters; more steak-on-hooves and ranches that look like they’re straight out of a John Wayne movie. We go up, up, up on our way to the Wolf Creek Ski Area.
The master and I at the sign for the Continental Divide Trail up near Wolf Creek Pass. The idiots took pictures of this same sign back in 1995.
There was still snow up there! And this is how dumb my humans are. We come to a roadside stop for the Continental Divide, and they realize that they’ve been there before, back in 1995,
when they traveled around Colorado. They’d driven the same road (albeit in the opposite direction, from the east) on their way to Durango. Duh! We turned around at the ski area because our goal really was the hike to see Treasure Falls. Of course, there were more stops to take pictures before we got there. But the Falls were pretty cool.
That night we ate at the condo. Because it was vacation, I got a couple of bites of their steak. She didn’t even hassle him about how much it would cost him if I got pancreatitis from eating human food. Hey, I walked and hiked that day.
Wednesday:
Can you believe this, after our walk and breakfast, we get in the car again! Apparently, we were headed for Durango. Why? It’s not like they hadn’t been there before. They wanted to see if it was different. Duh, it’s been 22 years! Have you not heard that you can’t ever go home again? At least it was only an hour in the car. We left the alpine greens and headed back to the desert browns. I have to admit that Albuquerque seems a lot greener than Durango. (Never mind that I’m mostly colorblind. A dog can tell these things.)
The French crepe dude’s cart in Durango. And I’ve still never gotten to try a crepe.
So the idiots were kind of disappointed. We got caught in local traffic driving in. They seemed to think that the place was a crap-load bigger than in 1995. (Duh.) Eventually, we found a parking spot and headed into the Old Town/downtown area. Talk turned to lunch and how they had to find a place that had outdoor seating that allowed dogs. Pooh. I have great manners, and since I’ve become desert dog, I absolutely adore AC. Amazingly, they found a little stand with a French dude who made crepes – yes, crepes in the Southwest – and decided to stop there. Apparently, the crepes were quite yummy. Not that they gave me any, claimed there were green chiles in them. Right.
But there was a bright spot. Several, in fact. Most of the shops let dogs in! And several even had water and – get this – treats for us canines! At the expensive shoe store I managed to score two Milk Bones. Woo hoo! They liked me; found me quite attractive. And, since I’ve lost a couple of pounds and got the slimming haircut, I have to say that I am looking fine.
Thursday:
Yeah, this was supposed to be a day of rest. All we were planning on doing till we went out to dinner was to finally let Murphy’s ashes go. Murphy was my big brother. They’d adopted him out of Colorado six months before I arrived as a pup in 2008. He’d just turned 12 then and managed to live till he was 16 and a half! I think I can take some credit for that. I was five when he died. Five! They’ve been holding on to his ashes since then! But again, Murph was a Colorado dog, so taking home wasn’t a bad call.
My old buddy Murphy, the Colorado dog who spent his golden days in Massachusetts.
Murph was a cool dude, drove the idiots crazy those last years. (I loved it when he pissed on the mistress’s hand-painted cupboard in the foyer. Ha! And he was bullet-proof, would just look at her like “What? What? I’m old. What are you gonna do to me?) Anyway, he got them good last week too. They knew they wanted to let him go in a river somewhere kind of private rather than in the middle of Pagosa Springs. Mistress finds a river on the map not too far from the condo, though it required traversing the forest uphill on a dirt road. The master loves that shit in his Honda Accord. Not! Gets better. After his constant “Are we almost there?” she tells him “It’s just around this curve.” And it was, but it was a DRY river bed. I laughed and I laughed.
Where we let Murph’s ashes go on the San Juan River in the San Juan National Forest. Pretty sweet, no?
Now they’re desperate. It’s our last day in Colorado; dude can’t go back to New Mexico with us. She tells him there’s a place on the completely other side of town…she thinks. Okay, they want to do right by Murph, so we head back east toward Treasure Falls. We find the parking area and the trail. But her map is sketchy. Not a lot of info. We head down the trail towards the river. And get maybe a third of a mile before the path just…ends. We turn around, head back to the car. They’re testy. “It has to be farther up the dirt road.” (Another dirt road; he loves that.) “No, the dirt road goes uphill, up into mountains.” “We can’t tell that; the river is to the right. It has to cross in front of us near here.”
As usual she breaks him and we head up the dirt road. Lo and behold! Maybe a half-mile up and down the road we find the river. We have a little ceremony (me from the car so that I don’t go swimming), and now Murph is running free in the San Juan National Forest. You go, guy. I miss you. And I’m still laughing because what should’ve been a half-hour commemoration took us two hours! Even in death, Murph wins.
FRIDAY:
After our daily walk, we packed up and were out of the condo by 10:00 a.m. Thank goodness, they opted to take the more direct route home. One more drive through the center of Pagosa Springs, a right turn onto Route 84, another two-lane, and we were on our way. We only made three stops. We’d never been to Chama where the Cumbres & Toltec Scenic Railroad is. We checked it out, used their bathrooms. The humans want to go back one day to take the train ride. I’m guessing that dogs are personas non grata, so perhaps I’ll be left at a doggy hotel for that trip.
Rug yarn at Tierra Wools in Los Ojos, New Mexico.
Back in New Mexico she made us drive two miles out of our way to visit, yes, a freaking fiber place, Tierra Wools. The master and I are in agreement here about these kinds of stops. At least they let me in to hang in the AC. She didn’t buy anything, but made sure she took pics of the rug wool colors for when she needs some. The master rolled his eyes like he always does.
We made one more stop at a cool place called Echo Amphitheater. While I was grateful to get out of the car to stretch my legs, it was NOT my favorite place. They might as well name it the “Fuck-Your-Dog-Over Amphitheater.” Yeah, the idiots thought it was great fun to call me and have it echo from the rock formation. I had no idea who was calling me and where the voices were coming from. Next time I’ll stay in the car, thank you very much.
And, just like that, we were home by around 3:30 in the afternoon. Our vacation over. I miss Colorado. It was cooler up there, and we’re back in another heatwave here. Ah, well. At least they’re talking more get-aways. In October it looks like we’re heading back to New England for the first time since we moved out here two years ago. And then in January, she’ll probably take us to Tuscon. No, we’re not going to the Old Pueblo Rug Hookers Hook-In with her, but the next day, we’re hoping to drive down to Puerto Peñasco, Mexico, for a week. Very cool!
Hopefully, she’ll let me write more of these posts rather than just pose with her rug of the week. You’ll have to find that on the High on Hooking Facebook page later this week. Until then, thanks for reading.
Signing off and hoping I get to write again,
Tynan
Tynan the Welsh Springer Spaniel of High on Hooking
Summer selling and festivals start… The view from right in front of my booth. Could easily watch the musical groups, the watermelon seed spitting contest, and the doggie costume contest.
Had our first summer sales opportunity – okay, late spring – this weekend at the Albuquerque Recycled Art Fair at the Open Space VIsitors’ Center on Coors. Not sure if you saw my Facebook posts; the first pic I took Saturday afternoon once the sun had come out, but, baby, it was still chilly out! At least the slush and rain had ended. Yes, slush and rain, but at least it wasn’t the 8-12 inches they had on the other side of the mountain.
We’ve been pretty warm since February, had lovely weekends. Hell, I even took in an outdoor quilt show last weekend. The fair staff had asked us to set up our tents (generally needed for SHADE her in New Mexico) Friday, but once it started to pour that afternoon, Tom and I took a pass on that, deciding it was better not to completely wet-out the tent. Judging by the foul weather report, we’d need it to keep rain out on Saturday…when we woke up to a temperature of 36ºF. Fun times! Fortunately, I received an email saying that the show would start an hour late, 11:00 instead of 10:00. At 9:30 we were approaching 40º. Hey, it was better than the 30s.
High on Hooking’s new employee of the month! Tom made his first sales – two mug rug sets – while I was moving my car to the vendors’ parking lot Saturday morning right after we set up. Way to go, Tom!
But the question remained: who in their right mind was going to come to the fair to see the exhibits and buy from all of us no matter how wonderful our recycled art was? And they were calling for sun on Sunday. But bless some big, old hearts. It shows what a great art city ABQ is. There were actually quite a few folks who showed up that morning and then later when the rain dried up and blew away. In fact, I sold more items Saturday morning to those die-hards than I did the rest of the fair. Amazing. And while Sunday indeed dawned shiny and bright, those New Mexican spring winds were galing away at full blast. Still, it was a fun fair – lots of good music and things to see. I’ve already told the organizers that I want the same spot next year. And they said YES!
In the meantime, I wanted to post where High on Hooking will be the next few months. I’m hoping to add in a few dates and shows here and there, so more info to follow as it comes in.
Sunday early afternoon we have family coming in for a first-time visit to New Mexico. The Sunday after that: more company!
Albuquerque’s Fiber Arts Fiesta sets up Thursday, May 18, and then runs from the 19th-21st. I’m still sewing binding on my big rug that’ll show. Have to sleeve it and another one for hanging.
The Rail Yards Market opens the 28th, and I have to make more inventory! Summer sales do take work.
“Mama’s Kitchen” Mug Rug Set: sold! By Tom!
Something’s got to give for a few weeks, and, in this case, it’s the blog. So, no more entries till June, peeps. But I will definitely put updates and photos – especially of Cheryl’s class and Fiesta – on the Facebook page. Check in there.
I hope that your spring is going well and that it’s warming up wherever you call home!
