Milkweed Dehiscence

Day 42: After weeks of waiting patiently for my milkweed pods to dehisc, only to see them developing mold in our damp weather, I decided it was time for an intervention. I cut the stems and laid them inside the unheated garage where I hoped they would dry and split. I wasn't even sure they'd ripened, since they had never turned brown as I felt they should have done, left alone on the plants. Now it has to be said that I don't generally have much reason to go in the garage, so they were there for a week or two before I opened the door again. That brief disturbance of the air as the door swung back sent milkweed fluffies into every nook and cranny in the building! They drifted down like snowflakes as my mind struggled to comprehend what was happening, so unexpected was the sight. You know what they say: Be careful what you wish for. Dehiscence had indeed occurred. In spades.

Pilophorus and Friends

Day 41: Walking the one-mile loop trail in Ashford County Park, I didn't really expect to find anything I hadn't seen dozens of times, although I was rather hoping for a slime mold. None showed up, but as I began the descending leg of the trip, I focused on the boulders lining the uphill side of the trail. There were several patches of dusty grey-green lichenization, too fine and too immature for me to even guess at an identification until I came to this one. "Pilophorus acicularis!" I said. It's one of my favourites, and its black-tipped apothecia make it unmistakable. You can see two or three in the upper right corner of the photo. It wasn't until I pulled the pictures up on the computer that I noticed another set of black apothecia in the lower left. They are not the same lichen. Had I not been so intent on Pilophorus, I would have sectioned one of the apothecia with my thumbnail to see if it contained any red pigment. Next time I walk the trail, I'll check to see if it's Mycoblastus sanguinarius, as I believe it might be.

Timing Is Everything

Day 40: Lately, it's seemed like there was always some other call upon my time when we were to have nice weather, preventing me from going out for a walk. I was either keeping repairmen amused, compelled by an empty fridge to go grocery shopping, or had some other obligation. Nice days are few and far between at this time of year in western Washington, and I was starting to get crabby, so when all the moving parts came together in accord, I took a once-around of our little county park. I only found one thing of note (coming up tomorrow), but I hadn't expected to find anything at all. You take what's offered, however small. At any rate, that blue stuff behind the leaves here will be short-lived. It may be spring before I get another chance for a pleasant walk.

Blackwork Bird

Day 39: I've been doing a lot of embroidery lately, mostly as "slow-stitching." As I was working, it occurred to me that I'd started some blackwork months ago, and hadn't done anything on it for quite some time. I dug down in the bottom of my workbasket, and underneath a pair of half-finished socks, there was the Bird. First let me say that those socks will probably never be finished. The yarn is some utterly horrible, loosely twisted, irregular stuff I picked up on sale from Herrschner's. I've sworn never to fall into that trap again! I will probably unravel the socks and use the yarn in a weaving project so it isn't a complete loss. Anyway...the Bird has been on my Bucket List of projects ever since I bought Elizabeth Geddes and Moyra McNeill's "Blackwork Embroidery" (a Dover book) some forty years ago. It is on the cover. My version of it uses different filling stitches and some small amount of artistic license, and when it is done, it will go in a frame to match two other pieces of blackwork hanging in my living room. I don't often keep needlework for myself, but blackwork is something I particularly like, both to work and to see. The three pieces are quite different from one another: the Bird (when it's done), a Dresden plate design, and a square maze, which together show the versatility of blackwork. Time to get some of these "Bucket List" pieces done!

Loom Room Blooms

Day 38: A certain mischievous varmint's propensity for getting into things he's not supposed to get into means that my Christmas cacti remain in the Loom Room window rather than being brought out and placed on the mantel when they come into bloom. Strangely enough, he heeds my admonitions of "No, not for kitties!" and "Off! Curl up in your little weaver's box and be good!" when I'm back there, although once he's had his nap and wakes up again, I may have to repeat myself. In actuality, I haven't been weaving much lately. I have a very boring project on Max at the moment, and I've been otherwise occupied with finishing up some Christmas gifts, quilting and embroidering, all of which are crafts I do in the living room. I nearly missed the picotee cactus' flowering period, but it alerted me to the buds coming on the yellow and white ones shown here. The white is particularly lush this year. Maybe I should take its hint and finish up those monotonous placemats while it's in full splendor.

Fill-in Motif

Day 37: As a general rule, when I stitch the layers of a quilt together, I do so 1/8" inside each seam line rather than working an overall design like clamshells or waves. There have been exceptions to that, of course, and occasionally I add embellishments to open areas of solid-colour fabric (a daisy in the center of a circle, for example). In this way, the pieced pattern is reflected on the back, and is more obvious by virtue of not being overwhelmed by prints. Quilting came about as a way to prevent batting from clumping or bunching up, and now many batts are rated by the maximum number of inches between lines of stitching which the quilter must not exceed. Where the chrysanthemum/Dresden plate blocks join in "Autumn Oranges," I had large open spaces of brown which really needed tacking down. As I worked on the plates, my mind was running over possibilities. Circles? Small inside large? Yeah, that would do, especially since I already had ready-made templates. But I wasn't satisfied with the idea. Yesterday, it hit me: add scallops around the outer edge to make a big daisy! A quick sit-down with the templates, a sheet of plastic and a pair of scissors to cut it with, and ten minutes later, I had a 12-petal "sunflower" I could outline in chalk.

Utterly Ridiculous Cat

Day 36: If there is one cardinal rule in feline care, it is that you must never laugh at a cat, but how can you not, when they do such utterly ridiculous things? This is one of Merry's preferred sleeping positions, and it doesn't seem to matter if he's not cushioned. On the bed, in my desk chair, or on the floor, he will stay like this for half an hour or more until the unavoidable laugh wakens him. Even then, he may just open his eyes. I've shared my life with a lot of cats over the years, but none of them ever spent so much time sunny side up.