Teneriffe Medallions

Day 355: Teneriffe lace is constructed with two basic stitches: knots and darning. Knots can create a foundation (web) or be a design element in and of themselves. Darning is simply weaving over and under, but can be done in a variety of ways to form bars, wheels and other types of embellishment. Many of the "stitches" are common to hardanger, Dorset buttons and pulled-thread work, a point which people new to the craft should keep in mind because comprehensive books specifically devoted to Teneriffe are scarce as hen's-teeth. The best is Alexandra Stillwell's "The Technique of Teneriffe Lace," long out of print and while not hard to find, generally rather overpriced. But if you think books are hard to find, equipment for working this type of free-standing lace is even more difficult to locate. The good news is that it can be done effectively over a piece of cardboard with a straight needle, although it's preferable to work it on a cushion with a bent-tip huck/Teneriffe needle to help prevent splitting threads.

Goosed!

Day 354: The thought of a Thanksgiving turkey gave me just the goose I needed to start making space in my freezer. Goose? As in, "thaw this year's gooseberries and make jam!" The bushes only produced five cups of berries this year because I'd pruned them radically at the end of the 2024 season, but that was enough to make 8 half-pints and one quarter-pint of jam, with a bit left over. I've not been canning much this year. In fact, the last batch of jam I made was in February, and that was the 2024 gooseberry crop. I only have two jars from that session left, but when I went to put these away, I found another row of the 2022 batch hiding behind cranberry-orange marmalade. 2022 is still good (jam keeps well), but I'll eat it up first before getting started on these. That's my two favourites: gooseberry in the #1 spot, cranberry-orange marmalade in #2. Both of them are a lot of work, gooseberry in picking season because each berry has to be topped, tailed and cut in two before freezing, while cranberry-orange marmalade requires a lot of prep work on canning day. Still, those aren't things you're going to find in any store and, in my opinion, are well worth the extra work for as good as they are.

Working the Lace

Day 353: The first step in making Teneriffe lace is to form the web over which the pattern will be stitched, and this applies whether you are creating it on fabric or as an independent motif like this one. The thread is taken from point to point until a radial grid is formed, and then the weaving begins. Typically, the first few rounds are done in "double darning," i.e., over one pair of threads, under the next pair. This is followed by a few rounds of single darning, i.e., splitting the pairs by going over one thread, under the next. There are other ways to start the weaving (backstitch, open center, etc.), but for this example, I've begun in the traditional manner, and have secured the darning stitches with a round of Teneriffe knots. The paper "plan" underneath the work helps me keep the stitches aligned and uniform. From this point on, I can be inventive, using various types of darning and filling stitches to create a unique design.

Making a Teneriffe Cushion

Day 352: I've spoken before about my maternal grandmother who taught me many of my needlearts skills, and had it not been for her, I might never have delved into the nearly-forgotten technique of Teneriffe lace. She used to include a Teneriffe wheel design on all her chicken-scratch aprons (another obscure type of needlework), and I have always worked my Teneriffe on fabric in the same manner. To make independent medallions, the needleworker must use some type of form which can hold pins securely. A bobbin lace pillow can be used, but the size is cumbersome. Ideally, Teneriffe cushions can be held in the hand. There are a number of different styles, and I prefer a domed type to a flat surface because the lace has a tendency to curl in on itself as the threads are drawn together to form the design, but I did not have a cushion. After several days of exploring the options for building one (foam? cardboard? walnut shell filling? sawdust? leather top?), I came up with a Grand Plan. I bought a small wool needle-felting pad, cut it into a circle with a coping saw, made graduated circles of sheet felt to pile into a dome, and then I took a needle-felting tool to the top and stabbed the livin' daylights out of it until my arm was tired. The result was a nice, firm dome. Next, I took a piece of a gardener's knee pad and mounted it on the bottom to give height (my Teneriffe pins are quite long). The requirement here was that a doll needle needed to be able to pierce the cushion all the way through from top to bottom in order to secure the starting thread. The knee pad was perfect. Once the form was made, I sewed a cover for it, a necessary addition to keep the lace from picking up "fuzzies." Eventually, I'll put a colourful woven band around the outer edge, but right now, I just want to make some lace.

It Never Gets Old

Day 351: Thirty-five years I've lived here. This never gets old. We're in for a much-needed change in the weather, and the Mountain has dressed for the occasion by donning the lenticular cloud formation I like to call a "stack of pancakes." These are the thin, almost flat layered type of lenticular, as opposed to the "hat" which mounds on the summit on a flat base. Then there are the "flying saucers," the line of small lenticulars which usually move up from the southeast, one following another, like sheep going through a narrow gate. In a day or two, the Mountain will go into hiding, and when it does re-emerge, I expect those bare rocky ribs will be clad in a dusting of fresh snow. Autumn is here, and like the Mountain, I celebrate its coming.

Flavour Burst

Day 350: Hardy kiwis have been a "learn as you go" project for me. I have finally figured out when they should be harvested without having to resort to buying a refractometer. The stems of the berries will wither and turn dark brown/black, and the berry will release from the stem easily. And wow, what a flavour burst when these little nuggets are fully ripe! I found these to taste somewhat stronger than full-sized kiwis, and they were definitely sweeter for having been left on the vine to maturity. I have also ascertained that my original and purportedly self-fertile "Issai" is not producing. However, the "Anna" (female) of the pair I put in just a few years ago is producing nicely. I had hoped the male ("Clark") of that pair would also fertilize "Issai," but I see no evidence of that happening. I may simply remove the "Issai" and let the pair take over the trellises. That said, the Grand Kiwi Experiment can now be claimed as a horticultural success!

Hazard Tree

Day 349: It wasn't the nicest way I could have responded to the pleasant young man who came over to introduce himself after purchasing the wooded lot next door to me, but as we talked, I decided to point out a hazard tree which has been worrying me for some time. It was tall enough that had it gone down, it could have taken out my carport or even my bedroom. A surveyor might have said otherwise, but my neighbour and I both agreed that it was on his side of the property line. Then he gave me some assurance by adding, "My brother is a professional tree-trimmer. We'll take care of it when he comes out here." That was a couple of weeks ago, and I wasn't expecting immediate action, so when they knocked on my door over the weekend and said they'd start on it on Tuesday, I was surprised. The brother spent Tuesday limbing, even working by headlamp after dark, and was back on Wednesday to make the first serious cut at the point where you see him circled in the photo on the right. He was limited in what he could do by the size of the chainsaw he had available (he'd travelled across the country and had not brought his own saws), so the goal was to take off enough of the top so that if the tree did go over in a storm, it wouldn't hit my house. He wound up taking off two sections. The top measured about 18-20', and the larger second cut about 12', which brought the height of the tree to roughly 100', and within safe distance from any of my structures. He'll be back at some later date to finish taking the tree down.