Christmas In November

Day 32: I would boycott the stores where I saw Christmas merchandise on the shelves prior to Hallowe'en, but I'd go naked and starve if I did. Here at home, however, I don't mind Christmas coming in November when my Zygocacti respond to the transition of seasons. After all, they bloom when they're supposed to bloom once they've resumed their natural rhythms after having been forced into a one-time December display. It might be that they're giving us some sage advice: give from the heart when the time is right, not by the calendar (and certainly not because you feel forced).

Tea-Time

Day 31: Seriously, I had other things to do with my time today, but I got started on this idea and didn't want to quit until I was done. The motivation was an on-line photo group assignment, the last of twenty given to participants at the first of the month. Although I am primarily a coffee drinker, I do enjoy a cup of tea at least once a day. Many of my favourites are difficult to tell apart when laid out on a backing, so I included a number of herbals in this composite as well.

The operative word in that last sentence is "composite." Fourteen images went into the making of this sampler; the background,  twelve close-ups of various teas, and one shot to capture both spoons which were then "lifted" and reinstalled here. I don't have a lot of fancy software, so this meant hours of trimming, erasing and blending, particularly with respect to the spoons.

Starting at 1 o'clock, the teas are
1. Jasmine
2. Sassafras bark
3. Earl Grey
4. Chamomile
5. Goldenseal (home-grown)
6. Chai Spice blend
7. English Breakfast
8. Licorice Spice (licorice root and spices)
9. Pinhead Gunpowder
10. "Floor sweepings" (bag tea, liberated)
11. Peppermint
12. Rose mint (home-grown)

It's time for tea!

We Are Not Amused

Day 30: No, we are not amused at all. The power went out about 8:45 last night and stayed out until 2:30 while the wind howled outdoors. The house got cold enough that the Sandbags sandbagged me on either side in the bed, which of course doesn't make for the most restful sleep. Lights are back on now, but I'm writing from the library. Internet is down. Land line is down. Cell service is down! Land line and internet are the same company, and their message would indicate that it may be a while before service is restored, but the loss of cell baffles me. Did the tower blow over?

Winter. I used to love it, but the older I get, the harder it is to get through the season, both physically and emotionally. I don't enjoy camping out in my living room as much as I used to, dammit.

Update: A broken fiber-optic cable was apparently at fault, although I'm not sure how that managed to affect cell service. It has been repaired, and I'm back among the connected.

Memories

Day 29: I had but a few years to enjoy my father's stories, to watch him in his woodshop or to help him in the garden as he sowed corn or turned the compost; a few short years before the effects of war wrested him away. My memories of him are few and perhaps colored by the fact that he was viewed through adoring eyes. I am certain that he must have been a man with faults, but my recollections find none. I never heard him raise his voice in anger except to swear at the tractor or a raiding neighborhood dog, never heard him argue with my mother, except in the sport of philosophical debate. Nor do I recall his illness, because he masked it well. What comes to mind most readily when I think of my father is sunny, warm days and corn sheaves, the scents of sawdust and Old Spice, and the rich browns he always wore and how they accented his dark eyes. I think of my father in sepiatones and blue (his other favourite color), and the handkerchief he always carried which was woven in those hues. I only know his war stories from hearsay, because he spared me the horrors he confided to my mother in private. I did not know how he had suffered until I became an adult.

On this Veterans Day, I choose to remember the man who taught me to connect to the Earth, a man who felt the seasons in his bones and set his course by their dictates. It was circumstance which made him a soldier, but a hero he was born.

Learn Something New

Day 28: I cannot recall when I heard this piece of advice, but it was a very long time ago and I have sought to live by it ever since. Perhaps it's because my maternal grandmother was a schoolteacher, and instilled in me a desire to inquire into the whys and wherefores of many subjects. "Knowledge," she would say, "is the most valuable thing you can have."

The last ten days have brought me to greater manipulative skills as far as post-processing of photos is concerned. Not only did I learn how to create a "tiny planet" with my PaintShop Pro photo editing suite, I also had a breakthrough with regard to adding curved text to an image. The manual which came with the program was sorely lacking in instructive material for the process, so I resorted to an on-line source which explained how to effect curved text using a much later version of the program. Substantial trial and error and many notes-to-self on a scratch pad finally brought me to a repeatable set of directions for text which followed a circular path. However, I was not content. I wanted to be able to add upright text to the lower portion of the image, as opposed to letters which went upside-down as they marched around the rim of the circle. I was less successful in finding details on line, but having accomplished the first part gave me some clues for achieving my goal.

As you might guess from the photo above, all other projects have been in suspension as I sought to master this skill. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to tend to my knitting!

Nisqually National Wildlife Refuge

Day 27: I didn't plan to go to the Refuge today, but after failing to find what I'd gone shopping for in Yelm and Lacey, I figured it was a good Plan B. The last section of boardwalk was closed for the season as I knew, but the first portion of it was enchanting in an autumnal sort of way. Plus, the tide was in, always better for scenic photos. The weather was pleasant for a November day as long as I was protected by the trees, but as soon as I got out in the open, I was wishing I had a couple of sandbags in my pockets. In fact, while I was fiddling with changing the battery in the camera, the tripod took wing. It didn't simply fall over. It lifted off, and I caught it by one leg before it could go over the side of the dike. After that, I kept it pinched between my knees. But here in this protected marsh, the water was barely disturbed by the wind.

Quilling

Day 26: Quilling, a craft which enjoyed the peak of its popularity during the mid-1800s, is still practiced by a proportionally small number of artists today. Named for the feather quills which were originally the tool of choice, today's quilling utilizes a needle or bodkin on which to form rolls from narrow strips of paper. Rolls may be made larger or smaller as the artist requires for a specific pattern, and may be relaxed and/or pinched depending on the shape desired. Once a number of rolls have been made, they are lightly glued together, and then may be attached to a paper backing if meant for a framed display.

Quilling often takes form as snowflakes or flowers. Creating a piece of quilled art may take anything from just a few to hundreds of tiny rolls. Count the curls in either of the two snowflake patterns shown here and you'll see what I mean.