Hummingbirb

Day 111: On the "Birb Checklist," hummingbirbs such as this female Anna's are small, round in repose, cute and sometimes silly and therefore qualify on all counts. They are also aggressive and foul-mouthed (one nameless ornithologist reportedly said that "a hummingbird's vocabulary consists of 90% swear-words"). If you've ever heard two or more males debating territorial claims, you'll immediately know what I mean. Taken in total, that's four points toward birbiness and two points off, but in my birber's opinion, "small" and "cute" heavily weight the score toward birbiness, and if you want to take up the issue, we can discuss it behind the barn. I'm warning you. I have a lot in common with hummingbirds, even if "cute" doesn't apply.

Birb

Day 110: What is a birb? According to the Audubon Society (and they have sourced the term thoroughly), the guidelines suggest smallness, roundness, cuteness and/or silliness, although these qualifications are open to quite a wide range of interpretation. There are limits. Big raptors (hawks, eagles) are not birbs. A Great Blue Heron is not a birb, although a Green Heron is. Puffins and Penguins are definitely birbs. The visitors to my yard are almost all birbs, but some are "birbier" than others, particularly the Chickadees, whether Chestnut-backed or Black-capped. Steller's Jays are not particularly birby, no, and neither are adult Ravens, but baby Ravens can be hilariously birby until they learn the seriousness of maturity. Perhaps the birbiest of all are my Evening Grosbeaks despite their frowny yellow eyebrows and crotchety dispositions. A dozen or so showed up a few days ago, had a quick meal, and I haven't seen them since. In any event, any time I need cheering up, I go birbing. Not "birding," birbing. In the words of the Audubon, the ultimate authority, "Now, one might reasonably ask why it matters which birds qualify as birbs. Strictly speaking, of course, it doesn’t. But viewed sidelong, it becomes a taxonomic game, akin to 'is a hot dog a sandwich.' These sorts of debates are fun partially because they reveal real fault-lines in our operational definitions. It’s a chance to take stock, not just of what we think about birds, but how we think about them. Defining 'birb' also means interrogating our impressions. It’s not only about rating them: It's about reminding us that—regardless of birb-status—all birds are good."

Nålbinding While I Wait

Day 109: Well, where to start? I lost internet, cell and land line late yesterday afternoon. The land line came back to life fairly quickly, although terribly full of static (again!), but internet and cell were out until just a few minutes ago. In the meantime, I needed to take my car in for an oil change, so I packed up a handwork project (one which only required yarn, needles and scissors) and spent two hours getting a really good start on a Norwegian-style hat. Went grocery shopping after I got my car back, forgot to apply the appropriate coupons, futzed with customer service over how to remedy the situation and wound up just returning the products. By the time I got home, I was worn out, but very pleased with the progress I made on the nålbinding.

It's been a while since I did any nålbinding, and had to do a brief review of how to do Finnish 2+2 stitch, "brief" as in "I threw away about 20 yards of yarn because nålbinding is almost impossible to unpick." That said, it's also very sturdy, because even if it gets a hole, it won't unravel. There's been talk about making "resistance" hats, a la the ones the Norwegians wore during WWII. Most current patterns are knit or crocheted, and are essentially nothing more than a standard stocking cap with a tassel instead of a pompom. Nålbinding is a traditional Norwegian technique, so I felt it was a logical option. It's also slow, so I may not have the hat finished in time to wear this winter.

Current Band

Day 108: I'm happy to say that so far, there are no major issues with warp tension on the current band. That said, I wish I had not had to cut the warp where it was tied onto the cloth roller tape because when I knotted the threads again, the knot was rather large and cumbersome. In order to level up the band as it wrapped around the roller, I had to insert a piece of foam under the cardstock ("pool noodles" are a staple in my weaving supplies). Once levelled, the band will stack up on top of itself as it's wound onto the roller. I found that the traditional way of rolling it on a slight diagonal created an undesirable bias in the finished tape. However, stacking it directly on top of itself limits how much band can be made due to the fact that as the diameter increases, it changes the angle of the warp threads and therefore how the shed forms. This is a peculiarty of Leksand loom construction. My Glimakra band loom rollers are beneath the warp beam and cloth beam respectively (i.e., the warp travels over the beams before being wound on), and could accommodate many more yards before filling up.

End Results

Day 107: For an experiment to be considered successful, it has to be repeatable. Can I achieve this twice in succession? I have two motifs left to weave before I take this band off the loom, and I have not had any issues with slack threads. As you can see on the right, where the threads tie onto the warp ribbon, there are no loops of excess. Each time as I have advanced the warp, I've smoothed out the slack and locked it in place behind the bag clips. Over the course of the band, it's evened out. For the record, this band has a narrow border (2 white outer threads and 4 green for a stripe, using 10/2 cotton), and 7 dark blue pattern threads (8/2) on a basket-weave ground (10/2). For the next experiment, I will make the border slightly wider and will add two more pattern threads, but I will probably weave the same length (i.e., on a warp twice the length of the loom and across a card table). Obviously, I don't have a measurement for the finished band yet, but it should be somewhere between 7-9 feet if my calculations are correct, guessing the actual working area.

Hypogymnia Inactiva

Day 106: Just as I was about to start celebrating a second location for a different Hypogymnia ("tube lichen"), I said to myself, "Hang on a mo'...the medullary ceiling was dark, not white. That means it's..." (I grabbed the 40-pound field guide) "...it's inactiva." The narrow-lobed Hypogymnias are easy to confuse without that crucial datum, so I was glad I'd checked. No, I honestly don't have all the information committed to memory. I rely on books and other resources almost on a daily basis, whether it's for lichens or vascular plants. That said, there are different things to check for between genera in the field, e.g., presence and type of fruiting bodies, branching, base colour, whether a podetium (stalk) is hollow or solid, and those are the things I keep in mind when examining a specimen. Even then, it's all too often that I won't be able to differentiate species simply from macroscopic characteristics. If I can get "close enough for gov'mint work," I'm happy. With Hypogymnias, one of the most helpful field identification points is the colour of the medullary ceiling, so when I found this one, I pinched off one small lobe and peeled it apart. Hypogymnias are called "tube lichens" for a good reason. Their lobes are hollow, like balloon animals. Separate the blue-green top from the black lower surface, and the telling point will be what colour is on the inside of the top layer. If anyone had been close by, they would have heard me apologize, "Sorry, sorry. I can't tell who you are without doing this. Sorry!" as I nipped off an inch with my thumbnail. Yes, seriously.

Platismatia Stenophylla, Ribbon Rag Lichen

Day 105: The Pacific Northwest has its share of Rag Lichens, so-called because they have the feel of a damp dishrag when touched. Many of the species are quite "leafy," and can often be found growing on old cedar fences as well as tree branches. At least two are more "lacy" in appearance: Platismatia stenophylla (above) and P. herrei. Both of them form loose clusters which frequently become dislodged during wind events. I've learned to differentiate them on sight, but in the early days of my lichen adventures, I had to put them under the microscope to check for isidia/soredia (reproductive structures), present in P. herrei but absent in P. stenophylla.