Cornerstones

The first version of Cornerstones is off the loom and ready to have the two panels sewn together. The warp for a second throw in shades of green is mounted on the loom, although I haven't started winding it on yet. I really like this pattern. It's a summer-and-winter, i.e., the back looks superficially like the reverse of the front, but in fact it isn't quite an exact opposite. The winning feature, however, is that the panels will join better than any overshot I've ever done. That's always a bit of a challenge for two reasons: one, the motifs are split down the center at the selvedges, and two, draw-in reduces the width of those outer motifs. Because the motifs are split, some threads which would carry across the center point in the interior of the work are "broken" at the halfway point at the selvedges. With care, panels can be stitched together so that the join isn't blatantly obvious, although a skilled eye would see it. Still, if your four-shaft loom isn't so wide it takes up half your house, panels are your only option for weaving coverlets or throws.

Nålbinding On and Off

For some time now, I have wanted to learn how to nålbind "off the thumb" (bottom) as opposed to "on the thumb" (top), the difference being that in working off the thumb, smaller stitches can be made using finer yarns and threads. The technique baffled me until I discovered one critical step, i.e., that the work is flattened out so that the needle passes either over or under the threads without the twist involved in working "on the thumb." As I worked, I began to understand another mystery, that of the nålbinding notation which reads along the lines of "OO/UU/OO," representing "over" and "under" the respective threads. The limitation in working "on the thumb" is that your thumb, be it large or small, is the gauge for your stitch size. In working "off the thumb" (i.e., held in the hand without any wraps being carried over the thumb), stitch size is governed by the size of the needle. This has opened up an entirely new world to me as far as nålbinding is concerned, and although I've only worked the small sample shown in the bottom picture, be George, I think I've got it!

Spring Has Sprung

My first crocus has croc-ed, so it's official: Spring has sprung / The grass is riz / I wonder where / the daisies is? And yes, I know there are many variations to that little rhyme, but that's how I learned it when I was a very small child. I've seen people remark that this seems early for crocuses, but I think it's pretty close to normal, at least here. Maybe if we'd had a bit more snow or colder nights, they'd have been a week later, but early March is pretty much standard, following right on the heels of the snowdrops. Over the years, I've lost quite a few to marauding deer and elk, along with tulips and hyacinths. Daffodils are fairly cervid-proof, but the crocuses seem to be "deer candy." This is my second year with this batch. So far, so good!

Cutting It Close

It's been 17 days since I began weaving two panels of "Cornerstones" for a lap throw, and I just finished the second one. In fact, I rationed myself to two motifs per day when I saw how fast it was working up. I have enjoyed it so much that I will be making another one in shades of green as soon as I finish weaving the "leftover" warp still remaining on the loom (I always warp extra in order to have a sample at the very least, or another small item). But this brings me to a drawback with boat shuttles: they don't hold as much as a stick shuttle, and it's pure guesswork to know if you've wound on too much or too little to finish out a project. As it turned out, I ended the last pattern throw with about four inches to spare on the bobbin, by pure luck. Yes, I had more thread in the colour, but it would have been annoying to have to load just enough for three or four throws. I probably would have wound enough onto a stick shuttle (i.e., a known length) to finish out the project.

Ancient History

It's done. As of today, Kevin and I are both officially retired, he from his paid position and I from volunteering. Although I don't have as many years of service to my credit because there was a large gap between my days at Carbon River and my time at Longmire, I got my start with Park Service quite a bit earlier than he did. In total, I volunteered for a little over 15 years, and recently received a new "Meritorious Service" award. I will probably continue to work on volunteer projects such as the annual geocaching CITO event, but as a member of the public. Kevin plans to volunteer as well. And the Park and my Parkie family will be a part of my heart forever.

Having a Firkin Purpose

When you see firkins listed for sale, they are most frequently described as a "sugar bucket" or just "bucket." Sometimes (especially ones which have been artistically painted), you'll see them called "sewing boxes." It is rare to see one correctly described as to its purpose as a butter keeper, because for the most part, the original insulative lining is not present. I picked mine up at a yard sale for a whopping $5 and was surprised to find the liner intact, not even cracked with age. I'm sure many of them must have been put to use as sugar buckets when their liners deteriorated, hence the misconception. Mine is serving its firkin purpose as a cat-proof needlework stash. Critter would love to get the lid off, but so far, he hasn't figured out how it works.

Snowdrops in the Rain

Spring is coming. The Snowdrops herald the opening days. Other than the Hellebores, Snowdrops are the first to flower in my garden every year. The daffodils are only about four inches tall at this point, although some are already beginning to form buds, and the species tulips will be right behind them. Snowflakes (not to be confused with Snowdrops) will follow in the outsized flower pot they share with Chocolate Lilies. This year, I will not be starting seedlings indoors. The last several years have been almost complete failures in that regard, even though the plants were healthy when I put them outside. It's been alternately too hot or too cold, or alternated between both in quick succession, and they have not been able to survive despite my best efforts. I may pick up some starts at the garden store, but the hassle of having trays of seedlings in every cat-safe spot in the house is simply not worth it when the yield for last year was one single painted daisy. Or maybe it's that my mojo has changed gears. Where once I couldn't grow anything edible to save my soul while flowers loved me, last year, I got both figs and kiwis. I think that's a fair trade-off.