Pussywillow Dreams

Day 149: Skunk's an old granny, deaf, and she sleeps like a rock when she takes a catnap. Crashed in front of the heater, her eyes were half-open and her whiskers and toes were twitching in dream, but she never knew I was sneaking a branch of pussywillows up next to her pussyfoots, careful to keep the flashlight beam from striking her face so I could bring the silver out in all its furry goodness.

The pussywillows bloomed late this year. I've been watching several spots for them, and only found one blooming in January in someone's driveway. These came from a new location for me, a vacant lot next to a store in town. Oh, I have them mapped, rest assured! They're getting harder and harder to find each year, and I'd like to know why.

Where Nisqually Meets Little Mashel

Day 148 (bonus edition): Once upon a time, there was a bridge here where the Little Mashel's gentle flow meets the galloping Nisqually River, connecting Thurston County to Pierce County with a sturdy concrete expanse. It served the public little and was known only to loggers and locals who enjoyed being able to shave twenty miles off a trip to Mount Rainier each way, but it also held appeal for those folk looking to conduct drug deals or to conduct under-age beer parties. Law enforcement was called to the site too many times, and the result was that the bridge was road was gated at either end, cutting off legitimate travellers as well as those bent toward illegal activities. Finally, the bridge was blasted apart, its four pylons standing like pillars in the river, gathering dead wood around their bases until it was swept away by flood.

Today, few people go here except the workers at Pack Forest and a handful of fishermen in salmon season. The view isn't particularly scenic, nor would you expect to see much wildlife along the way. It is, however, a quiet walk which passes through scotch-broom prairie, thence to enter mossy green forest where trickling feeder streams chuckle and Pacific wrens fill the air with song. It is a pleasant walk to the river, and one I enjoy taking alone.

Spring Emerger - Coltsfoot

Day 148: As things fell out, my work schedule changed at the last minute and I found myself with a day on my hands and moderately nice weather in the bargain. I set out toward town and shopping, but the closer I got to Pack Forest, the more I was tempted to walk down the old road to the river. "Nah, I'll wait 'til it warms up this afternoon," one side of my head argued. "Yeah, but what if the weather turns crummy?" said the other side. In the end, the river walk won and a mile in, I felt a raindrop. Then I felt another, then another, but no more followed those three even though the sun disappeared behind greyish cloud.

The rivers (Little Mashel and the Nisqually) were pretty much as I'd seen them last, though with much of the annual vegetation still dormant and the deciduous trees still leafless, the views were more open. It was not until I had turned back and was halfway up the shady and damp hillside that I noticed and true sign of spring. Along the ditched bank, Coltsfoot was emerging.

A plant of bogs and streamsides, Petasites frigidus palmatus (or P. palmatus, if you prefer) has deeply notched leaves with "teeth" at the points. The flowers when fully open are white. When mature, the leaves may measure more than a foot across, and the flower stalk may reach a height of two feet. Common in the Pacific Northwest, Coltsfoot is one of the true harbingers of Spring.

Coarse Lace

Day 147: Bobbin lace is generally done with very fine threads, but that's not to say that you can't use heavier materials as well. This little coaster-mat is a good starter piece for the novice and more advanced lace-makers will find that it can be worked in a number of different ways on the same pricking. Done at this scale (#30 crochet cotton), it is easy to see how the lace forms. Fourteen pairs of bobbins are required and the finished mat is approximately four inches square.

The Winged Adventure

Day 146: I must admit to a terrible temptation to say "I barqued my shin," but this tattoo is above my ankle, so the phrase wouldn't be semantically accurate. That said, the ship is in fact a three-masted barque, a very maneuverable small vessel, easy to handle with a minimal crew, excellent for dodging in and out of hidden coves and therefore the perfect choice for a pirate such as Capt. Morgan Corbye who, I am given to understand, is becoming quite restless for a raid. She has been ashore far too long for comfort and the Winged Adventure has been careened, her decks holystoned, her masts and rigging serviced, and the good Captain is anxious to set sail. To date, I have not been able to verify a report of an altercation involving the Harbourmaster, several cases of rum and the Captain's hat, but I feel certain that when said Harbourmaster is located, he will dispel any rumours which may be presently in circulation.

Black Hats

Day 145: My love of hats dates back to childhood and the magic of my mother's "hatbox." In reality, the hatbox was a round tin of adequate diameter and height to hold half a dozen toppers. My favorite was a felt hat similar to the modern "Boy George" hat shown on the right, dark purple with a bright red ribbon band and matching feather, perfect for a little girl who even in those days enjoyed playing pirate.

While my closet sports quite a number of hats in various styles and colors, my "good" hats are black. The "Boy George" is felt and I often dress it up with a band of beading or colored ribbon. The Akubra Snowy River was manufactured in Australia and is ornamented with cockatoo feathers and a heart-shaped pin. The heavy leather tricorn is that worn by flamboyant pirate captain Morgan Corbye, proving that while some of us must grow old, we don't have to grow up.

A Handy Contraption

Day 144: Here's a handy contraption for you! This little gadget converts bobbin winding from work to fun, and gets you on the road to making lace a whole lot faster! Simply give the thread a few turns around the bobbin to hold it in place, then mount the butt in the vise jaws and tighten them with the slider, then crank away. The thread is guided with your other hand to keep the wraps relatively level, and it only takes a minute to wind a bobbin to capacity. This device is a real time-saver!

I've looked at a number of bobbin winders over the years, but any which would accommodate my bobbins was out of my price range. I discovered this one on line and decided to take a chance on it. No instructions came with it and I'm still not quite sure I have the bobbin mounted correctly, but it seems to work just fine. I also ordered a larger 20-inch "cookie" pillow made from Ethafoam to replace my old straw-filled 16-inch pillow which was getting a bit too soft to hold pins securely. I covered the Ethafoam with a broadcloth drawstring bag, a temporary solution until I find a more suitable fabric. Tonight, I'll be merrily winding away, and tomorrow I'll start a new piece of lace!