Calling All Waxwings!

Day 291: The table is set, and I am expecting company. Any day now, a Cedar Waxwing will notice that the Sitka Mountain-ash berries have turned orange. Another bird will follow that one, and another and another, and easily within the space of five days, the tree will be stripped bare. It was precisely for this reason that I planted the tree: to provide a feast for guests who come to stay for a fleeting few days each autumn. To be sure, they'll leave behind a mess in my driveway, but the trade-off is worth it to see their soft, smooth colours and bold black masks where they perch among the foliage, the illusion of light and shadow artfully portrayed by their feathers. Come one, come all! I'm waiting for you, Waxwings!

Gettin' My Gandhi On

Day 290: Seeking to broaden my spinning skills earlier this year, I purchased a small kit which included a tahkli spindle, its bowl and several ounces of cotton. Within a few days, I was hooked despite the fact that I was making some rather lumpy and thick thread. In another leap forward, I bought a book charkha, essentially a fold-out spinning wheel in a wooden box the size of a hefty hardbound novel. By the time I had run through the two least appealing-colours of kit cotton, I was achieving a thread suitable for weaving. There was one problem: the charkha was designed to spin singles, not to ply, so I cobbled together an arrangement whereby I could create a two-ply thread with my standard spinning wheel with the singles mounted in the charkha's spindle storage holders. The system worked quite well and in fact, allows me to put more single-spun thread on each tahkli, and therefore more yardage in my finished skeins. Here you see two fully loaded spindles. To give an idea of scale, each cone of thread is roughly 2.5 inches long. While I'm not sufficiently ambitious to think that I will ever spin enough thread to weave and sew into a whole garment, I'm still gettin' my Gandhi on.

Happy Face

Day 289: I'm not big on bedding plants, but this one came to me for free by virtue of having been planted somewhere it did not belong. Rather than throwing it in the trash, I allowed it to follow me home where I stuck it in my shady front flower bed where it has produced a steady (if small) succession of flowers. I love the fine yellow edge on the maroon blossoms! If it goes to seed and reproduces true to colour, so much the better. Flower morphology is frequently used to distinguish "pansies" from "violets" and "violas" (common names which are sometimes applied interchangeably) although all three belong to the genus Viola. "Pansy" generally refers to the large-flowered types which have two upright petals, two side petals which incline upwards, and one downward-pointing petal: the "happy faces" of the gardening trade.

Hardanger In Progress

Day 288: As I am delving into the deep recesses of my crafts cupboards for things to do during my self-imposed pandemic isolation, a few unfinished projects are surfacing. I had barely begun this one when I tucked it away, and thereby hangs a tale. For ten years or so, I had an arrangement with a woman who ran a Scandinavian gift and needlework shop to provide her with sample pieces she could display as enticement for customers looking to start their own projects. The terms of our agreement were that in exchange for free supplies and pattern books, my finished works would hang on the walls of her shop for six months. I usually left them with her for much longer, often until the particular pattern I had used became unavailable. We frequently sat in the shop together, sometimes stitching and chatting for an entire afternoon. Over the period of our acquaintance, I must have made easily a hundred or more pieces of hardanger, but one day when I arrived at her door, the shop was closed. I thought nothing of it at the time and simply went home to start a new piece from one of the books and fabrics already in my stockpile. Several months passed before I stopped by the shop again, but again, her door was shut. Some time later, I found out that she had passed away. I found it difficult to pick up my work again, reproaching myself for having not made a better attempt to contact her, but I had had no hint that she was ill or failing. I folded the fabric, bagged it with the threads I had chosen from her shelves, and tucked it away to be forgotten until a few days ago. I will complete it now, as a remembrance of her generosity and kindness to me.

Hardy Fuchsia "Genii"

Day 287: Even when not in bloom, Hardy Fuchsia "Genii" adds a spectacular accent to the flower bed. Its chartreuse-gold foliage fairly glows against darker greens, and when the flowers emerge, it sets off the combination of pink and purple in a striking manner. "Genii" has the potential for becoming an unruly, leggy shrub, but can be pruned to a smaller size without detriment to the plant while keeping foliage production more concentrated. New leaves appear on both fresh and old stems, emerging somewhat later from last year's wood. I usually prune old stems back to a foot in height or take them out entirely. Hardy at least to 0°, "Genii" takes the cold better than many other hardy fuchsia cultivars and will reward you year after year with delicate flowers reminiscent of those of its larger annual cousins.

Scrappy Constellation

Day 286: The Scrappy Stars have been assembled as a full constellation! This quilt top grew beyond my original intentions when I decided to put "streets and alleys" between the blocks. Originally planned as a lap quilt, it will now measure 84" x 66" when finished. Although construction took far less time than any other quilt I've sewn, it was not as easy to piece as it might appear. Still, it is a design I may use again since it went together so quickly. The next phase, of course, is to do the actual hand-quilting which binds the backing and batting to the top, and at the very least, that will take 6-12 months. I still have a little work to do on the Hexagons and am debating whether I want to jump right into the Scrappy Stars or move the quilting frame out of my living room for a while. It's occupied a major portion of my floor space since 2017! The Constellation already has its destiny laid out: a surprise for another friend who has no idea it's headed her way. This is my way. For me, the enjoyment is in the making, not in the having.

Perfectly Notched

Day 285: For some weeks now, I have been hoping for the proper conditions which cause the Mountain to cast an atmospheric shadow just prior to sunrise. It all came together yesterday morning, with two unexpected bonuses. When I first observed the shadow forming, it was the typical wedge shape angling toward the south. I grabbed the camera and darted across the road where I could avoid having power lines in the image, but as I did so, a second dark wedge appeared off the left shoulder. The shadows were being thrown by Columbia Crest (the true summit, central from this vantage point) and Liberty Cap (the northern peak). This double shadow alone was a phenomenon I had not previously seen, but as I was snapping photos, the sun began rising, perfectly notched in the low point between the two summits. Old Sol will be in this position only for a few days each summer, and although weather has permitted me to see the notched sunrise occur a few times previously, it was never in conjunction with the atmospheric shadow (and certainly not with a pair of shadows).