Krokbragd On A Frame Loom

Day 329: There are several new and exciting things going on in my little fiberarts world currently, and you'll be hearing about more of them in days soon to come. We'll start with the frame loom, my September Morn present-to-self. It presents weaving in its most basic form: warp threads wrapped around pegs, the sheds controlled by a stick inserted between them. Many weavers got their start on one of these in grade school, weaving a simple over-and-under tabby. However, any warp threads can be picked up with the stick, so many other weaving structures are possible. I was sure krokbragd was one of them, and although I was right, it is somewhat tedious to do. That said, the problem of slack warp threads was eliminated completely, making the trade-off worthwhile, and I was able to weave a tabby border for neater selvedges. For small pieces like krokbragd placemats, this little loom is perfect, and it folds down flat to be quite portable. Like many a child before me, I sit on the floor when I'm weaving on it.

Mad For Mums

Day 328: I'm mad for mums, and since it has been several years since my last one gave up the ghost, I decided to make up for lost time and bought three of my favourite colours yesterday. They are all small plants, so I put them together in a pot I can easily move to a protected area when temperatures start dropping below freezing. Although they're sold as annuals, chrysanthemums are astonishingly sturdy. I've never had one which didn't come back at least one year, and more likely, three or four. Even if only one of these survives the winter, I'll be happy.

Mums are long on a natural insecticide, pyrethrum. Their flowers are processed to extract an oleoresin which is marketed under the name "pyrethrin," available in almost any garden center, but if you plant mums, you'll see a decrease in mosquitoes, ants and aphids, at least in proximity to the plants themselves. Surround your favourite sitting area with them, and enjoy mosquito-free tea-times. Autumn is here. Go mad for mums!

Huernia Procumbens

Day 327: I live in a hours divided. The hoyas occupy the east and north facing windows of the living room (actually, it's more like NE and SE), and the cacti are mostly all crammed onto a shelf in the small south (SW) window of the Loom Room where they can receive the greatest amount of light. The Loom Room tends to be cooler as well, especially in winter, i.e., the best possible situation I can provide in order to bring them into bloom. The largest two, Huernia procumbens (Pointed Star Lifesaver Plant, above) and Epiphyllum oxypetalum (Night-Blooming Cereus), are in hanging baskets above normal eye level when I'm seated at the loom. Huernia's stars sometimes escape my notice until they've faded. I always feel a little guilty when I find a dried-up one among the stems. This one almost eluded me, since it appeared on the side of the cactus facing the window. If I hadn't brought the plant down for a pruning, I might not have seen it. While not as colourful as Huernia zebrina, the flowers of this species still look as if they'd eat you alive if they were only bigger.

Busy Day

Day 326: Yesterday was a busy and very productive day on the fiberarts scene. Not only did I complete the third of the three panels for the summer-and-winter piece, I finished plying a four-ounce skein of yarn. If that doesn't sound like enough, I also devised a method for making tidy selvedges when weaving krokbragd on the frame loom which was a September Morn present-to-self. The system can be adapted to the rigid heddle as well. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before: simply weave two or more selvedge threads in tabby. D'uh! As for the summer-and-winter, I still have quite a bit of warp left on the loom. I always add extra. There might even be enough for a fourth panel, although I wouldn't want to add it to the coverlet. I will probably use it for a matching pillow. It will be a week or ten days before I'm ready to take this weaving off the loom, but I feel I can rest on my laurels, knowing the coverlet panels are done and, I might add, in record time (August 10-September 3, i.e., 24 days). What's next? I'm considering another coverlet, this time in overshot. We'll see. I have a week or two to think about it.

Staying Within Reasonable Bounds

Day 325: Late last fall, the trellis supporting the white-flowered Akebia vine broke about halfway up the wall. I figured it was as good a time as any to prune back the vine to a reasonable height. The white one is my pollinator. I have been unable to get it to set fruit, although whether the problem lies with it or with the male flowers of the purple vine is uncertain. The purple males produce very little pollen, and it can be assumed that what they do produce is infertile, but in any event, transferring pollen from the white male flowers to the purple females works. That said, the vines of either are very vigorous. Pruning them to stay within reasonable bounds makes harvesting the peculiar fruits of this particular horticultural labour much easier.

Nutty Horticulture

Day 324: Most of my readers will recall that I've done a number of rather odd horticultural experiments in the past, but this one has to be the nuttiest yet. Past experience with filberts/hazelnuts strongly suggests that wildlife or worms get the meat before the nuts can be harvested, but I don't recall that I ever opened a nut while it was green to see if there was actually anything inside. Harry Lauder has developed quite a few clusters of nuts this year, so I decided to sacrifice one in the name of science. I was surprised to find a developing nut inside the shell which, it must be mentioned, was already fairly hard. I began by trying to saw off the top, but I pinched the shell so hard with the pliers that as soon as I'd broken through the exterior, it shattered. Even so, the experiment gave good results, revealing an immature filbert. Having discovered this, a second experiment suggested itself: try to keep peckers and paws off a few nuts long enough for them to ripen. It's possible they may go wormy. Experiments frequently have numerous possible outcomes. To that end, I mounted three chicken-wire cages on stakes, each cage surrounding two to four nuts. While this may not be sufficient to deter the long-beaked Steller's Jays, I am hoping to have two or three nuts mature.

September Morn

Day 323: The leaves are beginning to turn colour. The first true rain has fallen. The sky is blithely grey, and western Washington feels like western Washington again. The Beautiful Month opens with fog and drizzle, and invites me to step into the yard to dance in the coolness, driven to a pleasurable madness only area natives will understand. Too long have we been dry and bright and overly warm: out of sync, out of the norm, longing for shut-in days of Goretex weather. There were puddles in my yard yesterday, and although I didn't do it, I wanted to go outside to walk barefoot in one, to rejoice in mud and the smell of wet grass. A new meteorological cycle begins, and it is a glad, good September Morn!