Looks Like a Cache!

Day 49: I don't do a lot of geocaching these days, but when a new one popped up this morning only a few miles from home, I decided I had to go after it. "First to Find" honours can be very competitive, although there aren't a lot of contenders out here other than Kevin, but even so, I had no idea how long the notification had been out. The cache sounded fairly challenging...fallen trees to climb over, lots of logs to look under, at least according to the description...but when I got there, I discovered it was only a couple hundred feet from the path, through ferns in the kind of terrain I'm accustomed to when mushrooming. I did have to sit on one mossy log to get over it, but a damp butt is something I accept as a matter of course when I'm out in the woods. The cache was brilliantly made and quite well hidden, but my instincts had kicked in and I was fairly certain of what I would find. Look at the photo and tell me, does that look like a geocache to you?

Forming Attachments

Day 48: At some point in my illustrious career, I identified this lichen as Parmelia hygrophila, and I choose to believe that I would not have ventured out onto a limb without being 99% sure. This post, however, is not so much about one particular species, but about forming attachments, and trust me, lichens are amazingly good at it. They can grab onto almost anything: wood, rock, bone...even metal or plastic, as can easily be seen on my garden gate (above) and the vinyl siding on my house. All it takes is a film of dust and a tiny bit of texture/porosity, the latter not something one generally associates with painted surfaces. The trick to their tenacity lies in rhizines, root-like structures on the underside of their lobes. In many cases, these rhizines are too fine to be seen with the naked eye. Unlike roots, though, rhizines are not concerned with nutrient uptake. They're there solely to hang on, and if you were to try to peel this delicate Parmelia away from its metal friend, you'd be in for an argument which might surprise you with its vehemence.

All About Leftovers

Day 47: Predictably, everyone is posting photos of yesterday's Big Dinner, so since I'm short on material, I'll jump on the bandwagon to offer my twist. First off, let me say that those are popovers, not Yorkshire puddings. To the best of my knowledge, the only difference is that butter is used for popovers,, whereas meat drippings go in Yorkies, and mine were made entirely from scratch (recipe is in "Joy of Cooking"). They reheat well by being placed in a 325-degree oven for a few minutes, but keep an eye on them so they don't burn.

And Thanksgiving is all about leftovers, isn't it? For that reason, I made a 16-pound turkey which I shared only with Merry because in my opinion, the best part of the holiday is Carcass Soup. Oh, I'lll nibble bits of meat over the next few days and possibly put a little in the freezer, but every bone, every piece of gristle will be saved for the stock pot. It will be boiled for hours until the meat has the texture of wet cardboard, at which point, the crows get a feast. When congealed, the broth will have the consistency of set gelatine, thick enough to cut, and that will form the basis for a simple noodle soup. I prefer to use small shell pasta, seasoned only with salt and pepper, but you could add veggies if you wished. The remnants of a turkey this size should make about a quart and a half of gelatinized broth, hearty fare for those cold days we know are coming in January.

Happy Thanksgiving

Day 46: "Autumn Oranges" just seemed to me to be the perfect backdrop for Thanksgiving wellwishes, so to start, let me say that I am thankful to have the quilting almost halfway done. I won't have it finished in time to be a Christmas gift for its designated recipient, but it is still going way faster than I'd anticipated.

The Nisqually Land Trust amused me by including slime molds in the list of things they are thankful for, so let me include them here as a special note among the other abundant gifts Nature gives me daily. Lichens, mushrooms, wildflowers rare and common, birds of all sorts...these are all things I am consciously thankful for every day. I am thankful for my friends, and for my continuing health which, given my age, is far better than it might be. I am thankful for a roof over my head, and for the comforts we take for granted, like heat and running water. I've lived without both. I am thankful for the food on my table, another commodity which has sometimes been in short supply, and yes, especially for homemade bread. I am thankful that I live in the Pacific Northwest despite the occasional earthquake and/or volcanic eruption, because it is the most beautiful place on Earth. I am thankful for the furry and feathered companions who have walked through life with me over the long years. And I am especially thankful for the great, rumbling purr which occurred with Merry laying on my chest this morning, nose to nose in our wake-up-time ritual of sharing a snuggle. I would not trade a single one of these things for all the gold in the world.

Quilting - Rock or Stab

Day 45: There are two principal ways to stitch the layers of a quilt together by hand. The first is with a "rocking" stitch (upper photo) and the second is with a "stab" stitch (lower image). The rocking stitch has an advantage in that it is faster (i.e., several stitches can be made before pulling the needle all the way through). Its disadvantage is that the stitches on the reverse side of the quilt are usually noticeably smaller than those on the top. The stab stitch is slower, but with care, the stitches top and bottom will be almost identically sized. The rocking stitch is preferred by people who quilt in the lap, and the stab stitch is not generally done without the quilt being mounted in a frame. I have seen quilters who "rock" when the quilt is stretched taut, and I've often wondered if they have looked at the back side to be sure their stitching has caught through all the layers. Because of the advantage of the rocking stitch with respect to speed, those of us who stab are becoming an endangered breed.

Lace and Lace-making Tools

Day 44: If you're a lace-maker, it should be fairly easy for you to pair up these six different types of lace with the tools used to make them, and even if you can't match them all, you should be able to get the rest by inference. However, if you're not a lace-maker...if you're one of those people who annoy me by calling tatting "crochet"...here's your chance to learn more about lace in its various forms. These are by no means the only ways lace can be made, and even within each type/style, there are variations (bobbin lace can be Honiton, Bedsfordshire, etc., crochet can be Irish, filet, and so on), but those are subjects of a more technical nature. I should have included a piece of Teneriffe (a needle-made, knotted lace), and #6 could have been a better example if I had made it with a much finer thread), and I did not include hardanger which, while it can be lacy, is not technically "lace." Now that I have set the stage, let me say that my love of lace is my one and only "pink and fluffy" side. No, it doesn't go well with hiking boots and flannel shirts, but I love making it, even if I don't wear it. Now...match 'em up, tool (letter) to lace (number), and don't look at the answers until you're done. 

How did you do?

1 is of course bobbin lace, arguably the finest lace I make, using cotton or linen threads in the #100-125 range. You make it with bobbins like those shown at C (anything from five to hundreds of pairs). The example used 22 pairs.

2 is good ol' crochet like your granny used to do. I prefer to work with #20-#50 threads for doilies and edgings. It is made with a hook (a #12 is shown at E).

3 is netted lace. It is made with a netting needle/shuttle like the one shown at F. The knots are the same ones used to make fishing nets.

4 is knitted lace. This particular example was made by my husband's grandmother using 4-6 knitting pins (extremely fine knitting needles) similar to those shown at B.

5 is tatting, easily identifiable by the "ring and chain" design elements. It can be made with a shuttle like the one at A, but I prefer to use a tatting needle (not shown).

6 is needle lace (and a rather clunky, for-purposes-of-demonstration piece made with #20 crochet cotton). It is usually made with a fine, blunt-pointed tapestry needle, although it can be made with a standard sewing needle (D) if you're careful not to split the threads. Small motifs such as this one can be joined with chains and/or other filling stitches to make much larger works.

Q-Snap

Day 43: For years, I did all my quilting in what was essentially an enormous embroidery hoop, oval or round, depending on what was available each time the tightening block failed (which it did all too often). The hoop was held in a floor stand which at best was an awkward arrangement, or downright annoying as the weight of the quilt tipped the front of the hoop down toward the floor. I was bemoaning the situation to a friend one day, and she said, "I have a Q-Snap frame I'm not using any more. You can have it," and it's proved to be one of the best hand-me-downs I've ever fallen heir to. Basically, it's nothing more than PVC pipes and elbows, but with one important addition: the "snappers" (half-pipes of a more rigid plastic) which grip the quilt firmly when snapped into place. It's easy to set up, easy to move the quilt to the next "screen" (i.e., area to be worked on), and breaks down to fit in a box which can be stored in the back of a closet without taking up much space. I did make one adjustment to the engineering by adding a cross-brace on the bottom to keep the legs in the fully upright position. In the case of this project, when I'm done for the day, I pop the top off, quilt and all and stow it in the Loom Room to keep Merry from using it as a trampoline.

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.

Suillus Caerulescens

Day 35: If you have found a mushroom with "sponge" underneath the cap instead of gills, it is most likely one of the boletes. The common name is a convenient generalization for a group which includes Boletus, Suillus, Leccinum and others. Many are edible, and some are choice: the "King Boleta" (Boletus edulis), for example. As a rule, those with red pores or stipes are to be considered poisonous, and those which stain blue may cause reactions in some people. Suillus caerulescens (above) is one of the latter. Also known as the "Douglas-fir Suillus," they fruit abundantly in my yard. The cap is viscid (sticky), and the pores are large and angular (see inset). "Fat Jack" is another common name for the species, and it is generally regarded to be undesirable for the table.

Dare I Say "Transcendens?"

 

Day 34: I am going to go waaaaay out on a limb here (because I haven't done any chemical testing) to assert that this is a specimen of Cladonia transcendens. There are not many red-fruiting Cladonias in western Washington, and I can rule out bellidiflora because of the absence of abundant squamules on the podetia, and I can eliminate macilenta by the overall yellowish tinge (macilenta leans toward blue). The one specimen of "Cladonia cristatella" in the WTU Herbarium is a misidentification. Cristatella ("British Soldiers") does not occur in the Pacific Northwest. Cladonias are notoriously difficult to identify even with chemical testing, and it's not often that you find one with a morphology which strongly suggests one species over another as it seems to me that it does here. I could be wrong. I might even say that there's a high likelihood that I am wrong, that it's a species which doesn't show up in any of my field guides. But that's the thing about science. You can be wrong without any shame. In fact, if a scientist can't admit when they're wrong, they're in the wrong profession.

Needle Lace

Day 33: I seem to have got caught up in the web of slow-stitching. The appeal of being able to do what I feel like doing at any particular moment, and doing it wherever I want to do it is rather liberating after hours, days, months, years, decades of devoting myself to specific projects and their particular demands. For the last several days, I have been thinking that my current piece wanted some needle lace in one of its open areas. To that end, I backstitched a rectangle to be the framework, and then worked several rows of simple corded buttonhole. Halfway through the patch, I said, "Hmmm...it wants some holes," so I made a few over the next couple of rows and then finished off with corded buttonhole again. Why? Because I could. And that's what slow-stitching is all about. Having fulfilled my zen moment, now I will resume the rigid discipline of quilting until I have completed the obligatory ten "petals" for the day.

Memory Wreath - A Plan

Day 32: Back in the days of my innocent youth, I decided I wanted to start quilting. I browsed through all my books (I had quite a library of needlework references even then), and I came across "Memory Wreath" (aka "Crown of Thorns") in the "Woman's Day Book of American Needlework." I had no idea what I was getting into or what problems I might encounter along the way, so I just dived in. In the end, my "meets" may not have been as perfect as I would have liked, and some of the blocks required a substantial bit of easing to get the seams to line up, but the quilt was beautiful nevertheless. I made at least two more on the same pattern over the years, each one coming together a little more accurately than the earlier versions. Since then, my skills have improved even more, and I kept thinking, "I'd really like to make one more 'Memory Wreath' before I leave this world." And then I discovered English paper piecing, and a whole new vista opened up. Now I have a Plan. While I don't intend to make it "scrappy" like most of my quilts, I have a lot of fabrics to choose from. I want to theme each block in a different colour combination. The pieces shown in black here will be solids of the basic colour of each block, as will the center square (at least I think that's what I want to do, because it gets some solids out of my stash). Prints will be used for everything else, repeating as shown in the illustration. I will probably only make twelve blocks (lap size).

The List Keeps Growing

Day 31: To date, I have contributed 240 photos to the Burke Herbarium (WTU) database, covering 133 taxa. The most recent addition was Cyathus striatus, also posted here on the 10th. The list keeps growing! And so I can keep a handy record, I decided to slow-stitch the name of each species onto a piece of cloth I dyed lightly with tea and lobster mushrooms. The embroidered list will be wound on a wooden sewing spool if there's room. Where pieces of fabric have to be joined, I've used lazy-daisy flowers and leaves to cover the seam. I add at least one species each day, sometimes two (to make up for the days I occasionally miss). That's about all my eyes can take when working on cloth with a thread count of 40/inch. Right now, I'm working my way through the vascular plants. Then I'll dip into fungi and lichens. I suspect my four-inch hoop isn't wide enough to add "Myriosclerotinia caricis-ampullaceae" all in one go.

Helvella Lacunosa

Day 30: The Latin word "lacuna" can be translated as "pond," "gap," "hole" or any number of synonyms implying an empty space. It gives us the English word "lagoon," and in literature, it refers to a missing portion (intentional or accidental) in a manuscript or poem. In the case of Helvella lacunosa, the modifier refers to the physical structure of the mushroom. As in poetry, these lacunae lend to the overall beauty and, at least in my opinion, this Helvella is one of the prettiest in the genus. We found half a dozen or more during the Nisqually Land Trust's mushroom walk near Yelm, nearly hidden by a fall of autumn leaves. Sometimes called "false Morels," the group known as "Elfin Saddles" are not considered edible. A few fruit in the spring, but most are cool-weather species and erupt after the first few chilly nights of autumn.

Cyathus Striatus, Streaked Bird's-Nest

Day 29: Bird's-nest fungi fascinate me, and this discovery gave me the opportunity to add a new species to my growing list of photo submissions to the WTU Herbarium. It is Cyathus striatus, variously known as Streaked Bird's-nest, Fluted Bird's-nest, Ribbed Splash Cup and a host of other common names. It is relatively easy to identify (at least here in the Pacific Northwest) by the combination of two distinctive features: the striations in the interior of the cup and the fluted "nest." It is somewhat shaggy (tomentose) on the exterior when fresh and not waterlogged, and young specimens may exhibit a pale "lid" on the cup. Once the lid opens, the peridioles are revealed. These lentil-shaped "eggs" hold the spores, and in this species, they are attached to the "nest" by a fine cord. This prevents the peridioles from being washed any distance from the parent, so the "nests" are frequently found in groupings such as this.

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.

Lambie-pies!

Day 21: Anyone who's been around me for any length of time will know that I do not like beef, i.e., "dead cow." I eat hamburger as filler in things like spaghetti and Spanish rice, but I don't particularly care for the taste. Steak revolts me. Pork is good, yes. Chicken, yes. And lamb...especially as lamb-burger...absolutely! John Kirkwood has an excellent recipe for "Scotch Pies" (as he calls them) on YouTube. He puts the lamb/onion filling in hot-water pastry, which makes this a fairly easy dish to prepare, although it is more time-consuming than my customary one-pot, five-minute cookery. I was hungry for "lambie-pies," so I invested part of my Thanksgiving dinner allotment in a pound of ground lamb and spread it out in 75-gram portions (cooked) into five pies, each to be topped with cornstarch gravy made from the broth in which the filling was cooked. Even at the current cost of lamb, this comes in at roughly $2.50 per pie, crust included. As luxury dinners go, this is a winner.

Stropharia Season

Day 20: For all of the fact that we've had several drenching rains, the subsurface soil is still quite dry, as I discovered when digging down to the level where I wanted to anchor some gooseberry branches with an eye to propagating by soil layering. That also accounts for the shortage of 'shrooms under Big Doug, a spot which is usually deckled with Stropharia ambigua. As a general rule, Questionable Stropharia sprouts abundantly throughout my yard, and yet this year, I have only found this one. Why "Questionable" you might be wondering? Its edibility has not been definitively determined. You would think that would be a fairly easy thing to sort out, especially if there were a few dead mushroomers cluttering up the landscape, but the jury remains out on this showy species. Some authorities say that it is not poisonous, but also not desirable; others claim that it causes gastric upset. With mushrooms, it is always best to err on the side of caution, and besides, they make such attractive specimens for photography.