Trichia Decipiens

Day 28: "From across a crowded room, she heard someone speak her name..." Well, not exactly. I was at the back of the line (the mushroom walk had about 20 attendees), thoroughly engrossed in explaining how to identify Usneas as a genus to one of the other participants, and the words "slime mold" caught my attention. Funny how the ear can pick out significant sounds among the noise. Immediately, I wove myself tabby-style through the group, passing one person on the left, the next on the right until I was at the head of the line where I saw someone holding a palm-sized piece of bark studded with tiny orange pins. It had been too long since my last slime mold hunt for me to recall the name on the spot, but it was one I'd seen before. Checking my blog at home quickly brought up Trichia decipiens, sometimes called "salmon eggs" for the colour (NB: the scientific name is under revision and may now be Hemitrichia). These cute little buggers are 2-3mm tall, and occur on both conifer and hardwood bark. Although we'd been out to learn more about mushrooms, a slime mold made my day.

Xeromphalina Sp.

Day 27: I've just come home from spending a very interesting afternoon on a "mushroom walk" sponsored by the Nisqually Land Trust with Prof. E. C. Cline from UW Tacoma. We found a lot of LBMs ("little brown mushrooms"), identified as such by E. C. Yep, you got that right. Professor Cline did her best to put them in the right genus, but she also said "I don't know" almost as often as I do. Even so, the walk was very educational, and now I know that Xeromphalinas are fairly easy to place in the correct genus because of their very thin and very stiff stipe. That stem is almost as rigid as a twig (branch) of the same diameter! A few other specimens will appear in my posts over the next few days, and will include a delightful slime mold which for me was the highlight of the day.

Autumn Oranges

Day 26: While listening to the crew chatting as they installed my new ductless mini-pump, I was able to stitch fully half of one Dresden Plate motif in the quilt I have now dubbed "Autumn Oranges," proceeding faster than I'd expected. First, I quilt just inside the yellow center, then again around it on the outside at the same distance from the seam. Next, I work on the blades, up one side, around the point, down the other side until I meet the outer circle. Then I take the thread across to the next blade and repeat. Working it in this manner means I can stitch a continuous line, only knotting when my thread runs out. Later, I will stitch around the outside of the plate, and then will put a design in the open area of the brown base fabric. I know I won't be able to complete the quilt before Christmas, but this one does have an appoointed destiny, and I have to finish it before I can start quilting "Ring Cycles." Good motivation, having one in reserve.

Celebrating Ring Cycles

Day 25: I slowed down quite a bit right here at the end, partly because I was working on a couple of new projects, but more to the point, I didn't want this thoroughly enjoyable project to be over. "Ring Cycles" is my first venture into English paper piecing (EPP), and is entirely hand-sewn. I started it on August 16. I was immediately surprised at how quickly it came together, although the large rings didn't truly reveal themselves until I had it a third of the way assembled. I'd studied several methods for assembly on line, and all seemed to have drawbacks, so I invented my own. Starting by making six 9-patches, I then added a triangle to the left side of each. One by one, I installed them around one of the hexagonal centers to form what I referred to as a "unit." Before I could add a second unit, it was necessary to sew on two "cat's-ears" (triangles) to make a nest for the new unit to fit into. Likewise, some partial units were created and sewn in as fillers to make the edges less curvy. The goal was to never have to fit a triangle into a deep V, and my order of assembly prevented that entirely. I honestly don't think I could improve on the method. It went very smoothly, and allowed me to make pinpoint "meets" (the places where corners join). Now "Ring Cycles" moves into the queue to be backed and batted, and in the meantime, "Autumn Oranges" will occupy the Q-Snap frame, and hopefully, I'll be able to keep Merry from using it as a trampoline.

Lung Lichens

Day 24: I've been back and forth many times on the correct identification of this common lichen because I'm too lazy to break out the chemicals to do the spot tests to determine whether it's Lobaria oregana or L. linita. Suffice to say that it is one of the "lung lichens," and that appellation applies across quite a few species. The common name derives from one of two (perhaps both) characteristics: its resemblance to lung tissue (although green), and its preference for unpolluted air. Lung lichens aren't quite as fussy as some Usneas in that regard, but they're still a good indicator. Deer and other ruminants consider lung lichens prime forage, and no wonder. Lobaria pulmonaria (another species) can provide up to one ton of browse (dry weight) per hectare.

Making a Grapevine Wreath

Day 23: It's been donkey's years since I made the grapevine wreath on the left. Seriously, like for thirty years that wreath has hung on my front door except at Christmastime when I replace it with a fake evergreen swag. And almost every year for the last dozen, I've said to myself, "I need to make a new wreath," an idea which invariably got back-burnered until the vines had become too dry to manipulate. Even at the best of times, grapevines are fragile. They snap at the joints if you look at them crosseyed, so making a wreath is an exercise in patience. I usually start with one of the most flexible pieces, preferably one which will form a circle the size I want, overlapping about halfway. Then I add a second one, trying not to force it to bend too much, maybe only crossing the original circle twice for an 18" wide wreath. And that's key: don't try to do a lot of wraps. For subsequent additions of vine, I thread the heavier end through a gap in the first pair until it's about a third of the way through. Then I take it around the pair once (twice if it's behaving), before starting to work on the free (thinner) end. Take the tip of the thin end through the center and, working backwards toward the thick end, gently coerce the wrap to lay close to the original pair. Once you've achieved that without hearing any telltale snaps, take the tip through the center again and repeat the process. Be gentle! And take it slowly. When I am nearly done wrapping the wreath, I will search out a few vines with "curls" for embellishment. Over the years, my old wreath lost all but one of its curls, so I left loads of them on the new one.

Spoolie

Day 22: All signs point to this being a thin holiday season for many families, so perhaps it's time to return to a simpler life. In the era of my childhood, receiving a doll for Christmas was a real treat among the practical gifts of socks and school clothes. Handmade gifts were the rule rather than the exception, and I don't recall one dearer to my heart than Spoolie. This is not the original. It disappeared over a series of moves and was long gone by the time I left home at the ripe old age of 12. This is a modern version, as close to the one my mother made as I could get when I built it over fifty years ago from my scant hoard of wooden spools. That's how much I loved Spoolie. What kid today could put the same emotional investment in something so simple? It may be time to rethink our values.