Fading Phantom

Day 286: Better late than never, I suppose. Because my botany partners were unavailable until next week when the temperatures are due to rise again, I went alone today on the annual pilgrimage to Cephalanthera austiniae, the Phantom Orchid. The five stems were well past their prime, in one case entirely bare of flowers or pods. I gave the area a thorough search in the hopes of turning up more, but to no avail. I think perhaps Phantom is going into hiding again. It can stay dormant for up to 25 years. Another conclusion can be drawn from this morning's exploit: I'm getting too old to heave myself over one log, just to have to belly-crawl under the next one. Unlike Cephalanthera, I don't think I'd benefit from dormancy.

Diamonds

Day 285: Diamonds. Or perhaps more precious than. In the last twenty-four hours, my pluviometer registered a little more than a quarter inch of rain, the first which has fallen since June 21st. That may not seem significant to those of you who live in drier climates, but to a Pacific Northwesterner, the absence of rain for such a protracted period is something worthy of remark. By now, the moss on car bumpers has dried up, the green nothern faces of our homes have turned brown, and we've all invested in several gallons of skin moisturizer. We're worried about forest fires, grass fires, idiot-fool campers' campfires because we are surrounded by timber/tinder. But taking a broader view sends cold winter chills up our spines as the rest of the country is withering in unprecedented heat. Diamonds, precious diamonds are scattered in my yard.

Finishing With Hemstitch

Day 284: I have come to the end of the second summer-and-winter towel. Now it's time to hemstitch. The advantage to finishing with hemstitch while the work is still on the loom is that when the entire warp has been used up, the pieces can simply be cut free from each other, the fringe trimmed evenly, and then you're ready to throw them straight into the wash. While twisted fringes do have their place, I much prefer a hemstitched finish. Hemstitching prevents unravelling by binding the last rows weaving to themselves. The needle is brought up between warp threads (in this case, four threads to the left of the starting point), then wrapped back around the same threads, bringing the point out a few rows into the cloth directly below (in this case, two threads into the cloth). This creates a bundle of threads at the terminus of the woven cloth. This process is continued across the warp until all threads have been secured. The loose end can then be needle-woven into the cloth, and voila! The "hem" is finished. Now the warp can be advanced. After weaving an inch or so on the next towel, it can be hemstitched in the same manner. Space should be left between the pieces (towels) to allow for fringe. Alternately, the hemstitched edge can be folded under and hemmed again in the traditional manner if a fringe isn't desired.

Kiwi Culture

Day 283: While I am certainly not going to get the bushels of kiwi berries I thought my vines might produce this year, I do believe the road to horticultural success is beginning to smooth out. I've learned some things: kiwi fruit need sunlight to ripen, the vines should be pruned three times a year, fruit comes on year-old wood. Pruning correctly is essential to a good crop, and that's where I've fallen down on the job. This winter, my vines will get a serious haircut to open them out, and then in the spring, I'll clip back branches which shade out the flowers. Once the fruit has set, more maintenance will be in order to expose the berries to the sun. Sometimes manuals tell you all you need to know. Other times, horticulture is a matter of experiment. After all, it took me almost ten years to figure out how to get a successful rooting from a slip of my contorted filbert.

Bella And Fitch

Day 282: Hoyas bella (left) and fitchii (right) weren't quite in bloom simultaneously, but they only missed by a day or two. Both bloom intermittently throughout the year with the heaviest flowering period coming during the summer. Hoyas come in a fairly wide variety of colour combinations in the warm shades, although I have yet to bring a yellow one into bloom. Bella and Fitch are the most prolific of the seven species I grow. Ilagiorum (red) is moving up rapidly in the competition.

S And Z

Day 281: I spent a large part of yesterday pacing a U-shaped path as I ran individual warp threads from the back beam to a post roughly 12 feet away, around it and up the other side to the cloth beam, then repeating my route in the opposite direction. This is the process known as "direct warping," i.e., dressing the loom strand by strand, as opposed to measuring threads on a warping board and then transferring the whole warp to the loom. It is a technique common to rigid-heddle weavers, but used less often when weaving on a floor loom because of the space required. After a period of trial and error, I decided that direct warping worked best for the Leksand loom even though the threads must follow that U-shaped path. By evening, I felt like I'd taken a 15-mile hike, back and forth, back and forth, and was almost too tired to finish tying on so I could begin weaving. However, I was anxious to get started, so after I'd had a rest and dinner, I finished the job. Here, I have used doubled warp threads for the light green S-and-Z pattern with single strands in the coloured border, both in 8/2 weight. The dark green background threads are slightly finer at 10/2. The photo doesn't do the vibrancy of the colours justice. The band is 1.5" wide.

At The End Of All Things

Day 280: "I'm glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things," said Frodo, and while not as cataclysmic, I have reached the end of one thing with far greater success than expected. Achieving even tension has been an issue when I've warped my Leksand loom in the past, with the pattern threads becoming more loose than the background threads every time I advanced the warp. As a rule, I prefer long warps so that I can create pieces which can be cut to size, but I was beginning to think it wasn't possible to warp more than three or four yards on the Leksand. Then I discovered Louise Ström's twisting method, and decided to go out on a limb with a warp stretched twice across my living room (i.e., down and back). I am happy to say that even tension was maintained throughout roughly 25-28' of weaving. I found that as I advanced the warp, I could work any irregularities back into the twisted portion. I expected to have them all piled up when I got to the end, and was pleasantly surprised when they all balanced out instead. I have two more repeats to weave on this band. For my next project, I will remember to double the pattern threads for a more solid look.