Haycorns

Day 352: Western Washington is famous for its Doug-fir forests and the other evergreens interspersed throughout. One does not associate deciduous trees with the state, although we have cottonwoods, alders, maples and a few others. However, oaks (primarily Garry) are fairly well confined to the prairies of the southwestern counties, so when I needed haycorns for a project, I turned to my east-coast sisters with a plea. Patty was in a position to gather quite a few in various sizes. Some have worm holes in them, so the lot will be given a bake in the oven to eliminate any unwelcome visitors. Tiggers may not like haycorns, but I do, and this windfall should keep me in crafting material for a long time to come!

A Mile And A Half

Day 351: I have a substantial stash of 8/2 cotton, my favourite weaving fiber, so I seldom think about the actual yardage required to finish mid-sized projects. Even when I have something large in mind (e.g., a coverlet), I can usually open the cupboard doors to do a visual assessment: "Yep, I have enough on that cone." I keep extras of the colours I use most frequently, particularly the off-white sold as "natural." This time, I had something a little different in mind: a holiday tablecloth, overshot on a green ground. As I was working out the length of the warp and the number of threads, a small doubt crept into the back of my mind, suggesting that perhaps a single cone of green wouldn't be sufficient, especially since I'd already taken some off it. It was time for higher math. Out came the pencil and the notepad, and sharply on their heels came the scale. No, there was not enough green left on the cone and, as luck would have it, I had just sent in an order and couldn't add another item to it. Cross with myself for not having made the calculations timely, I closed the book and began re-thinking my design to use what I had on hand while still keeping with the holiday theme. In the end, I decided to warp with natural, using red and green for the overshot against ice-blue (or possibly with the blue dividing pattern repeats). I spent most of yesterday on my knees, winding a mile and a half of warp onto the warping board. A mile and a half...7992 feet, 2664 yards! The weft never uses quite as much, but I think we can fudge a little to call this project the "Three-Mile Holiday Tablecloth."

Gate Crashers

Day 350: You know the profile. There's always the group who arrive at the party half an hour early, and start in on the food as soon as it's put on the buffet. Robins...American Robins...Turdus migratorius...are rude. A flock of at least two dozen showed up this morning to start in on the Sitka mountain-ash berries. I can only hope the Cedar Waxwings arrive while there are still some left. Okay, I appreciate the cleaning service, because a driveway full of mountain-ash berries leaves your shoes rather sticky after you've gone out to get the mail, but I did not put out this banquet for gluttons. It was meant to nourish the Waxwings as they begin their long journey southward. Robins migrate, yes, but not as far. Still, I suspect a flare has gone up, and it won't be long before the Waxwings notice the increased activity in my yard. They'll be here, and I'll be watching for them.

Strange Fruits

Day 349: If you think back, you may recall that in late May, I was out in the garden with my little paintbrush, tickling pollen from one Akebia vine and transferring it to another. Here are the results of that horticultural exercise. If you've ever tried to eat an Akebia fruit, you might be wondering why I bother. Well, the primary reason would have to be the oft-cited "because I can." Secondary to that is the fact that I've trained my taste buds to enjoy the subtly sweet flavour of this nearly impossible-to-eat fruit. It took a few years of repeated exposure. The pulp holds quite close to those myriad black seeds, and the only way to get it off is to put a spoonful in your mouth, squish the mass with your tongue until the soft parts semi-liquify, and then remove the slippery seeds from your mouth before swallowing. You wouldn't want Akebia vines growing out of your ears now, would you?

The Results Are In!

Day 348: The results are in! The Washington State Fair is done for another year, and I brought home two first prizes and two seconds. I was suprised that the waffle-weave throw took a first because it wasn't particularly difficult to weave. The judge's comment? "Great colors! Nice hem finish." It earned 97 points of a possible 100, and was obviously the top entry in its class with that score. My spinning entries each scored higher, with the green yarn made on a drop spindle achieving 99 points and a first prize. The judge said, "Very nicely spun!" The maroon skein also received 99 points for a second-place win, with the judge commenting, "Beautiful skein! You did a fantastic job." Lastly, the socks received 98 points, but took a second place because the judge felt I should have reinforced the heel, and I admit I probably should have done so. All in all, I'm feeling pretty smug. It's not every day you bring home two blue ribbons!

Shadow Weave

Day 347: One of my favourite YouTube weavers hosts "weave-along" sessions in April and October. I couldn't participate in April because I had a project on the loom, but this time, she caught me just as I'd reeled off the summer-and-winter coverlet. The loom was empty, and I had not yet decided on a new project when she announced that the October Weave-Along would feature shadow weave. Shadow weave is not a technique, but rather an exercise in "colour and weave," i.e., using colour within a given weave structure to create a design rather than using only the weave structure. It is a relatively new style of weaving, developed and introduced to new weavers by Mary Meigs Atwater in 1942. It is related to "log cabin," but carries the same principle further to create more complex designs. Warp threads are hung in a repeat of one dark, one light, and weaving is done with two shuttles, again one dark and one light, always alternating. The design is governed by the threading, i.e, which heddles/shafts hold the threads. It is fun and fast to weave, with a rhythm which is almost like a dance. I'm nearly done with the first of three towels in green and yellow.

Sharpie

Day 346: Got a Sharpie? I do. Accipter striatus (Sharp-shinned Hawk) flew in to see what was for breakfast, and since he didn't feel like tackling a Steller's Jay, he went away disappointed. Sharpies are not always easy to distinguish from Cooper's, but this guy's distinctive streaking continued far down his breast and clinched the identification. Side by side, you might have noticed that Cooper's has a larger head and a longer tail, factors which are difficult to judge when only one specimen is present. Overall, Sharpies are smaller, and might well come off on the losing end of the contest with a Steller's Jay. The smaller birds seemed to know he was around, and stayed in the protection of the contorted filbert's tangle of branches. Even when bare of leaves, the tree's natural maze proves too tight for a Sharpie to penetrate.