Masks

Day 18: It goes without saying that I enjoy costuming, and I'll take almost any excuse to get dressed up. I've always garbed for the trick-or-treaters, but out here, you don't open your door after dark even on Hallowe'en and the kids would rather make the rounds in town where they're assured enough candy to keep them sick until Easter. However, in pre-covid times, friends would occasionally throw parties, and I could always be counted on to show up in something elaborate and homemade. That said, I don't usually put on a mask because I wear glasses. These three are cushioned with foam at the forehead to keep them away from my lenses. Generally, my costuming efforts involve quite a bit of make-up, and on one notable occasion, I had started the process of applying prosthetics fairly early in the day, knowing that I had a two-hour drive ahead of me to get to a gathering in Seattle. Hunting season had opened, and some dimwit had decided to try to shoot an elk from the highway despite the fact that the animal was on private property. Someone called the sheriff, and because I had gotten the license number and a description of the vehicle involved, the deputy wanted to interview me. I had forgotten I was partially costumed when I stepped out to talk to him and to his credit, he never said a word about my Vulcan ears.

Spinning Blueberries

Day 17: Blueberries turned up in a different discussion this morning, reminding me that I haven't shown my readers the latest project on my spinning wheel. The wool is commercially combed and dyed, and the colourway is called "blueberry." I don't have space or energy to delve into dyeing fibers myself, but even if that was an option, I generally prefer to keep to natural colours in my handspun. This delicious purply-blue was too tempting to pass by, so I bought a pound, not really enough for a major project by itself, but more than enough for something like a hat or neck warmer, or it could be used to add a pattern or a stripe to a sweater. However, the longer I work on it, the idea of adding a bit of sparkle when it's time to ply it asserts itself, and I just happen to have some shimmery vintage Nomis filament in an appropriate shade. What do you think? Should I go for the glitz?

Nalbinding With Handspun

Day 16: You might imagine that my home would be filled with handcrafts and examples of fiber arts, given the volume I produce, but you would be mistaken. Oh, there are towels in the cupboard and rugs on the floor, two quilts and the occasional piece of art, but for the most part, the things I create are given as gifts. That said, it's nice to be able to make something for yourself now and then instead of shopping for it, or maybe just because you think it would be fun. I don't really need another winter hat, but I've had nalbinding on my mind, so I decided it was time to use up some of my handspun. This greyish-brown (brownish-grey?) wool came from my ram. It was one of the few skeins I've spun at a bulky weight and consequently wouldn't match gauge with any other yarn in the cedar chest. Although there's enough to make more than one hat, a scarf would be out of the question unless I put another wool with it. I'm using the Oslo stitch, a relatively simple nalbinding stitch to make a typically Scandinavian-style "cat hat" with a turned-up brim, essentially a rectangle worked in the round. Two corners stick up as "ears" and may be worn positioned as such, but alternately, the points can be set on the head toward the front and back like a garrison cap.

Working Up An Experiment

Day 15: Ah, these words shall live in infamy: "It seemed like a good idea at the time." I had a bright idea for a pick-up pattern, intending to work it on the "bonker loom" (the Glimakra band loom), so I set up roughly five feet of warp as a backstrap project for a test. I was only a few inches into it when I realized that as a "bonker band," it was going to be way more nuisance than it was worth to pick up some threads while dropping others in the same shed. While the principle is easy on an inkle loom, the weaver sits at 90 degrees to the direction of the warp on the bonker. I may feel differently about the idea once I get more experience under my (hand-woven!) belt, but for now, it was obvious that I needed to change horses in mid-stream. This is precisely why I like to work up an experimental piece using the simplest method and a short warp. At worst, I wouldn't lose much fiber if I decided to throw the whole thing in the bin. However, this one was easily convertible to a different design. Someone is likely to find it tied around their Christmas gift so that it serves a useful purpose.

Chlorociboria Stick Report

Day 14: A month ago, I reported that the Joe Stick was developing a few scattered dots of Chlorociboria aeruginascens. Even though it was early in its season, I thought it looked a bit feeble, and I wondered if it had suffered from the hot spell we had in June. First of all, I'm surprised that I was able to provide it with proper habitat. Second, I have no idea what its life expectancy may be, although I'm sure it will eventually deplete the nutrient supply in the Stick. I don't check it often, not wanting to disturb its environment, but today I pulled it out from under the overhanging ferns, removed a decaying hosta leaf and got quite a surprise when I flipped it over. The fungus grows on the bottomside of the stick where it touches the ground. The full 18" length showed Chlorociboria discs, with this dense patch in the middle. Funny how we each have our own definition of "simple pleasures." Just give me a fungusy stick, and I'll be happy as Larry.

Hippies

Day 13: We've been down this road before, but because you are still here reading my posts, I assume that you are at least to some degree intrigued by language and word origins, if perhaps not at quite the same level as I am. "Hip" has always fascinated me. The word evolved from a different root than "hip" in the sense we use it to describe our physical attributes or a particular type of roof construction. "Hip" as it relates to roses grew from Old English via Scandinavia as "heope,"the term for a bramble. On the other hand, our physical hips were subject to some "hype," Old English morphing through "hepe" and "hippe" to arrive at its present form. "Heopes" are rich in vitamin-C, and can be used to make tea or a delightfully fragrant jelly, but I would suggest gathering them before excessive moisture initiates the process of decay which, of course, liberates the harder seeds contained in the pulp and guarantees that hippies will endure forever. Or almost.

After The Storm

Day 12: Bombogenesis (or more correctly, "explosive cyclogenesis") is the term used when a mid-latitude cyclone intensifies rapidly and the barometer drops at least 24 millibars over a period of 24 hours. The phrase we heard bandied about was "bomb cyclone," and it set most of us to battening down the hatches and otherwise preparing for the blow. The incoming storm was supposed to be record-breaking, and indeed it was, but just not in my yard. My weather station recorded a peak gust of 23 and a mere .38" of rain. We had a couple of wall-ratting but distant thunderclaps yesterday and the power went out overnight, but "storm" is too strong a word for the breezy, moderately wet conditions which prevailed at my house. It was nothing compared to the Columbus Day Storm of 1962 when gusts to 100 MPH were recorded in the western Washington interior and to 160 MPH in the Willapa Hills. The radar station at Mt. Hebo (Oregon) logged a peak of 176 MPH. Storm? That was a real storm, not just a bit of bluster and blow like yesterday's activity. The "bomb cyclone" didn't even knock all the leaves off the dogwood or my Japanese maple. Let's not dignify it by calling it a "storm."