And Scrubby, Too!

Backlit by morning sun and through a dirty window too, at least I have documentation that Scrubby showed up at the suet feeder today...not just one Scrubby, but two! California Scrub-jay (Aphelocoma californica) has expanded its range in recent years to include my yard, and it's always a thrill to see them. They are slightly larger than my Steller's Jays and somewhat longer in the body, making a very recognizable silhouette when the sun is behind them. And as a bonus this morning, I can now confirm that I have at least five Canada Jays (Perisoreus canadensis), and they appear to belong to the same family unit. I'd better order more suet.

A Grey Day

 

It's a Grey Day today, and I love grey days, even the kind when the sun doesn't show itself. But this is a different kind of Grey Day, with its own particular brand of sunshine in the person of a family of three Grey (Canada) Jays which have been returning to my suet feeder for several years. I am sure that at least one generation has passed, since the life span of the species in the wild averages a mere eight years with the occasional bird making it twice that long, and I know that my original pair had three offspring one season who could possibly be the three currently visiting the yard. They are a family unit for certain, but whether they are siblings from the same year is something at which I can only guess. That they are repeat customers is undeniable, as they have grown more confident of me and the scary black box with the shiny, blinking eye. They were watching from the mountain-ash, anticipating breakfast when I stepped out to provide it.

Quilting Like Crazy

I needed a relaxing hand-held project to use as a break in between stints of sitting at the quilting frame, something I could do without devoting too much thought or energy to it. To that end, I dragged out the bag of fabric scraps labelled "fragments" and the larger tub marked "littles" with the idea that it was a good time to use up those bits and pieces too good to throw away, but too small for anything but a scrap quilt. I can't bring myself to discard those oddly shaped snippets which still have some kind of character on them, like a cat face or a sheep, or a pretty floral. Sometimes the figure isn't quite complete...cat missing its feet or a butterfly with only one wing...good enough for a crazy quilt, but far from the "fussy cuts" I like to put in my geometric quilts. When the bag/bin approaches critical mass, I make a crazy quilt. Sometimes, I machine-stitch them, but in this case, I wanted a handwork project, so I'm appliqueing the pieces together. I haven't decided yet if I'll embroider the seams.

Washington State Fair 2026

Permit me a moment of personal pride here. The Washington State Fair (aka the "Puyallup Fair") is one of the ten largest fairs in the country. I entered five pieces this year, and brought home four ribbons: two first prizes for weaving, a second and a third for spinning. My fifth item (a pair of nålbinding slipper socks) didn't fit in any of their categories and wound up being put with embroidery by virtue of being made with a needle. Consequently, it wasn't really competing against similar items, and only received a "participation" ribbon. I am quite happy with this yield, particularly with respect to the plaid ruana. It was by far the most complicated tartan I have ever woven.

Quilting Ring Cycles

And so it begins! I finished pin-basting the top, backing and batting together yesterday, and today, I began quilting Ring Cycles. Each nine-patch will have a circle around it, the circles overlapping slightly in the white triangles and forming a scallop around the edge of the central hexagons. It is a very plain quilting job, plain to emphasize the illusion of large circles created by the coloured nine-patches when viewed from a step or two back. It should go quickly, and I hope to have it done in time to put it in at least one fair next autumn. One small problem did arise before I could get started. I searched every possible hiding place for my circle templates and couldn't find them anywhere. I had just reached the conclusion that I wasn't going to be able to start the project today when I had a brainstorm: use the inside round of an embroidery hoop! I had one which was exactly the size I needed. Necessity, they say, is the mother of invention.

Boletus Zelleri

According to my 1921 edition of Ernest Seton's "The Book of Woodcraft," Mark Twain was the first to offer this tidbit of wisdom regarding mushroom edibility: "Eat them. If you live they are good, if you die they are poisonous." A bit extreme to my way of thinking, but definitely conclusive. The modern version of his philosophy runs, "All mushrooms are edible...once." I have no idea how many wild mushrooms my mother fed me when I was a child, but in hindsight, I feel it's a miracle I'm alive today. As I learned more about mushrooms as an adult, I came to realize that she had badly misidentified some of the fungi she'd been collecting over the years, notably blue-capped Russulas which she called "Blewits." The blue-capped Russula has white gills and a white stipe. Blewits are completely blue. I cringe when I think of the "Oysters" (Pleurotus ostreatus) she dried behind her woodstove. Were any of them actually Angel-wings (Pleurocybella porrigens)? People have been known to live after eating Angel-wings, but they have been involved in several fatalities as well. It's easy to mistake the two. However, one bit of advice my mom instilled in me was that any Bolete with red pores or a red stipe should be considered dangerous. Likewise, if the flesh of a Bolete stains blue when broken, it should be avoided, since some people react badly to them. In the case of Boletus zelleri (above), field guides will tell you that it is reportedly edible, but with a reddish stipe and blue-bruising flesh, I'm not going to give it a try. My mom was right about one thing: better safe than sorry.

Dewey

The best guess so far is that this charming caterpillar is Spilosoma virginica (Virginian Tiger Moth), and I figured we wouldn't get more than a "best guess" based on a photograph which fails to show any specific field characteristics. The moth is fairly common in the Pacific Northwest. He was minding his own business, so I minded mine, running through my daily tai chi "silk reeling" exercise on Big Bridge. With those guard hairs, I certainly wasn't going to interfere with him. That said, I had already found a better name for him than his dry scientific moniker. I mean, isn't it obvious to you that he should be called Dewey?