Pillow Talk

While working to turn pig's ears into silk purses, I've rescued all the covers from my folding screens that didn't sell and turned them into pillows! Rather than try clothing with these fiber parts, I thought I'd create a new product that didn't cost as much, and would have a wider appeal.

And they don't have to fit anyone!

"Growing Up Jenny"
Cheney was good to be in even in the 60's when I was little. Be home in time for dinner and have clean feet. It didn't seem to matter how dirty the rest of me was, but my feet had to be washed.....I remember being called home in the summertime and it was sort of a relay system if I was too far away to hear mom. I would her Inez McConnell or someone else hollering that Jenny Johnson was to go home. There was Jenny McConnell too, so it had to be specific or we would both run home! Sometimes I dream of the freedom I had of just jumping on my bike and riding off wherever I wanted to go, being gone till I was hungry enough to go home. I knew every block in town and knew who lived at least one house on each block, and knew who had an open door I could just go into if I needed to, and they would know who I was. I was never afraid, but was usually wary.
Written by my sister Jenny Brownlee

> Today I dyed socks. This is not easy. First you have to soak them in
> soda ash and water to make them accept the dye. They really don't want
> to, they like to be white. They don't like to be tickled by stripes or
> have stars painted on them. They like to remain as they arrived. BUT,
> I FORCE THEM!
> I mix up the dye, in lime, and red, and robin's egg blue, and
> beautiful marigold and turquoise. Some I put on the reluctant socks
> with foam paintbrushes, some I squirt on with needle nose bottles. And
> the wet socks suddenly have a change of heart, they WANT to be
> colored! They soak up the dye, every color another joy, they even try
> to spread the colors on top of each other! I have to be vigilant,
> otherwise those darned wet socks will spread the dye all over. The
> toes are the worst, they take up more dye than the heel, let alone the
> foot. They suck it up and keep the most, getting the darkest and
> brightest colors.
> Then it's time for resting, wrapped and kept warm in plastic wrap,
> like a sandwich, for 24 hours. The socks are happy, snuggled two
> together, enjoying the nap and the heat. I am impatient, wondering
> what has happened in the wait time, will the colors be what I
> planned, and what will be the surprises? Because there are always
> surprises, it's art, not science, for me. And for the socks.
> Time for bathing, wash after wash after wash, cold, then warm, then
> hot. The last bath is a bubble bath, in special suds that keep the
> extra color that the socks don't need, sharing them with the septic
> tank and the gardens. Into the dryer, then the magic appears. I open
> the door and behold, like Joseph's magic technicolor coat, the socks
> are beautiful and full of color! They have surprises galore, with reds
> and yellows segueing into orange, blues and marigold joining to become
> emerald green. A feast for the eyes, and toast for the toes. All done!