A Sunny Easter

Day 170: The Bunny couldn't have asked for a more beautiful morning for hiding eggs, and although he didn't bring me any, he did deliver some chocolate in yesterday's mail. Why I should have taken a sudden craving for milk chocolate instead of my usual preference for extra-dark, super blackout, 90-92% cocoa is beyond me, but my stash was entirely devoid of anything lighter than 80%. That is neither here nor there. What matters is that the garden is beginning to show its true colours. The Hellebores are exceptionally flowery this year, although the daffodils have put on a weak showing so far. The Forsythia is lovely, its arching stems visible through the kitchen window when I'm washing dishes, and the Red-flowering Currant has begun to attract the hummingbirds even though the flowers aren't open far enough to admit their probing little beaks. It is a rare day in March when blue sky shows as a backdrop to the promise of more flowers to come.

They're Back!

Day 169: When I stepped out to fill the bird feeders yesterday morning, a familiar and anxiously anticipated chatter filled my ears. "They're back!" I said, as I began scanning the phone and power lines for swallows. Mine aren't as predictable as those which visit Capistrano, but they always arrive some time between mid-March to mid-April. The House of Chirp and Pussywillow Cottage go up in late February or early March to be sure housing is available, and already one potential renter has sized up the House of Chirp. It is the most desirable of the two, and has carried successful broods every year since I put it in place. Not so Pussywillow Cottage, which has been ravaged by a succession of squirrels, starlings and wasps, despite being relocated several times. During one notable mating season, the House of Chirp saw two broods hatch, and in another, produced six chicks in one brood. That year was particularly memorable for me because I witnessed five of them fledge. The sixth hung in the doorway much longer, and when I simply had to step away for a minute, it was gone when I returned. For the last several years, the occupants have been Tree Swallows (above, Tachycineta bicolor), although occasionally, Violet-Greens have made it their home. It is always a thrill for me to see the first twigs and grass being taken inside, or for a parent to return with a soft, white feather gleaned from parts unknown to line the nest. Here's to you, little ones! I look forward to watching you grow!

Undulating Twill

Day 168: The April Weave-Along has almost officially begun, and several of us have gotten a bit of a head start on the project, including me. The first challenge I faced was that the tie-up in the assignment draft did not match the way I have Max tied up, so I had two choices: get down on my hands and knees again and change the tie-up to one I might never use again, or change the draft to get the same undulating twill pattern. The issue with changing the draft is that there are a lot of "moving parts" (so to speak), and changing one thing means you have to change another. Add to that the fact that I am just learning how to use this weaving software...well, let's just say that added a whole 'nother layer of complexity. My first attempts turned the drawdown backwards, sideways, and many combinations thereof, but eventually I hit on the solution. However, after I had it threaded and began weaving, I discovered my sett was too wide at 20 epi, so I pulled everything out of the reed and rethreaded it at 24 epi. My finished piece isn't going to be as wide as it should have been, but since I was using 8/2 cotton instead of 8/4, I had added additional width to the original to compensate, so the finished piece will be only slightly narrower.

Two-Footed Spinning

Day 167: Apart from any of her other attributes, making it possible for me to spin with both feet was the most important advantage Bronka had to offer. My old Louët S15 is a single-treadle wheel, and particularly on Ply Day when I needed to devote myself to the task almost exclusively, I was prone to getting severe cramps in my right leg and a kink in my back from sitting cocked to one side for many hours. The double-treadle system is more like walking, both legs being used equally. That said, when I moved her from her overnight position and sat down to spin this morning, Bronka began talking to me with a rather loud squeak which had not been there yesterday evening. I could trace it to the treadles, but shifting my foot position or moving the treadles from side to side seemed to have no effect on it. As I shifted the spacers around, I noticed that the one in the center was wedge-shaped. Then I saw that the sides of the wedge weren't equally spaced from the axle hole, and the light dawned: Kromski intended the wedge as a central "foot," and I had the wrong side down. A half-turn, and Bronka's squeak disappeared. I'm finding other nuances in her construction as we become better acquainted, subtle things which make spinning easier and more enjoyable, and I am convinced that the person who had her before me had done very little spinning on her. Two of the three bobbins which come standard with this model don't even have leader cords on them, which tells me they were never used.

Bronka

Day 166: Here she is, my Bronka, my dream wheel, and she has already spun a few yards of fine wool thread, whisper-quiet and smooth as glass. Named for a dear friend who passed away earlier this year and who shared her Polish origins, she is a Kromski Minstrel, and represents years of longing on my part. She is currently set up with a single drive and Scotch tension, but operates as well with a double drive. I found her on consignment at one of my regular fiber suppliers at a price substantially below retail even for a used wheel of her breed, and although bringing her to live with me has grievously pinched the grocery budget for the next several months, I knew the opportunity would never come my way again. My weaving buddy Ed picked her up for me to save on shipping and brought her to my door today, complete with an additional niddy noddy for skeining the finished yarn.

Swofford Pond

Day 165: If you've been following along for any time, you will have heard me talk about Swofford Pond and the South Swofford trail. The pond is actually a small reservoir on the south side of Riffe Lake, kept in place by a little concrete dam, and no more than 15' deep at any point. What service it provides under the definition of "reservoir" is unclear, since it empties immediately into Riffe without any sign of a flume or pumping station. Along the north shore, there are a dozen or so single-car pullouts for fishermen, seldom fully occupied although the lake is stocked with hatchery trout. Combustion motors are not allowed on the pond, so boats are also a rare sight, except for yours truly who enjoys kayaking from one end to the other. The nature trail runs along the south shore, backed by hills and for the most part, deeply shaded. Sulphur Creek tumbles down a narrow canyon, its beautiful waterfall inaccessible to any but the most determined cross-country hiker. Farms dot the north side, and on any given day, it is possible to hear dogs barking, cows mooing, discussion between fishermen carrying across the water. It is a tranquil place, for all of being man-made, and the forested slopes along the nature trail never fail to provide me with some curiosity of nature, whether it is a snail, a fungus, a lichen or other naturalist's delight. I spent many hours on the banks with a dear friend now long gone, engaged not in the activity of catching fish, but of fishing. There is a distinct difference between the two, and you cannot call yourself a fisherman if you do not understand it.

Bolt

Day 164: I never thought of weaving as creating a bolt of fabric because when I'm making a big project like a tablecloth or coverlet, I weave it as three panels, each separated from the next by an unwoven space and hemstitched on both ends. When I began the Wall of Troy a mere two weeks ago, I decided to weave it as a single length because I had nothing in particular in mind for its eventual use. I warped 24', remembering that with my old loom, I needed to allow five feet of waste, but Max is far more efficient in that regard, and I wound up with almost 21.75' of fabric. When taking it off the loom, I rolled it into...yes, what could only be termed a bolt, just like you'd find in a fabric store. Now, I still don't know how I'll use it, other than to put it in the State Fair this year as "yardage" (minimum length required, three yards), but there it is, ready to be turned into something lovely.