Take Joy!

Look! Something Finished!

This is a scarf I've been working on sporadically for the past week or two, and have finally finished. It's Queen Anne's Lace, by Khebin Gibbons (I've lost the link, but you can find it over on Ravelry). I used KnitPicks' Shine Worsted, which is a mixture of cotton and modal, a fiber derived from beech trees. It didn't block with as much definition as I'd hoped, but I love the way it feels—all heavy and slinky and vaguely Art Deco-ish. And it's easy, too. I'd have finished much sooner if I hadn't been distracted by the Maisie Dobbs novels . . .

In other news, I am mostly over my cold, but I seem to have passed it on to John, so he's puny now. It has, however, stopped raining for the time being, and is warming up again. Maybe we can get back down to the river later this week. I certainly hope so. We're both tired of being stuck inside, and so are the cats.

I mailed Emma's birthday box today: We gave her a copy of this book

which both John and I owned when we were considerably younger, and which I am positive she'll enjoy a great deal (particularly since Brian reads aloud very well).

And I made her these

and this

Those are embroidered lizards, yes. And the bag is made by the same pattern my grandmother used to make me one when I . . . oh, about ten, I guess. Many years ago.

We also sent her a booklet of temporary tattoos, a rubber iguana, and a beanie baby chameleon, just because I liked him. (And because I wanted an excuse to buy the sloth for myself. After all, every studio needs a sloth . . . aside from the artist, that is.)

And now we need to feed everything and get ready for tonight's tailgate market meeting, at which the spectre of [most likely unaffordable] insurance has been raised . . . . I'm thinking it might be nice to just take the summer off and go fishing.

This and That

We have rain. And rain. And more rain to come . . . And things are practically leaping out of the ground. Rhubarb, julep mint (which is apparently mounting a hostile takeover of the side yard), tulips, ramps . . . I saw a couple of stalks of asparagus this morning, and more should follow soon. Lovage is peeking out, as is comfrey. Apple mint is emerging, and garlic which has stood still all winter is putting on new growth. My catmint lived over the winter, and so did the costmary (I have finally, after three previous tries, found a place it likes). There are lilies coming up all over; the cowslips are blooming, and bloodroot down in the hollow, and the daylilies are doing nicely, too. The early vegetables are looking good—especially now that John has caught the last two Free Guineas and clipped their wings so they can no longer take dust baths in the spinach bed. I wonder whether we'll have an early spring, or it will get cold again and everything will be killed back?

I got the herbs planted in the half-barrel, and they seem to be settling in (helped by the rain, no doubt). Set out four leopard's-bane plants in the shady bed in back (where I see the bleeding heart poking up, too), and transplanted four wormwood plants that had come up in the driveway. All settling in.

I, on the other hand, am stuck inside (except for this morning's foray out to feed some ancient carrots to William and Company); I have either terrible allergies or a full-blown cold, and the constant dripping in the back of my throat is driving me crazy. Yesterday we made the monthly trip to PetSmart, and a trip to the grocery store, and then came home and I baked bread for this week at King's Produce. And took a nap. Today I must go to the drugstore in search of more Kleenex and Vitamin C, and some garlic capsules, and then down to French Broad Food Co-op for comfrey root to tincture—and just maybe a small bag of chocolate-covered ginger. I'm sure it would be good for my cold. . .

I have a couple of crochet pieces to block, and a hat to finish, and my DK merino has come in, so there's another hat in the making . . . And we need to go visit the new Barnes & Noble, so I can pick up a copy of the new British crochet magazine, since I can't afford to subscribe . . . and I am reading Maisie Dobbs, by Jacqueline Winspear (recommended by Nan at Letters From A Hill Farm—the link is my sidebar—and I am so glad she did) as well as Anne McDonald's No Idle Hands: The Social History of American Knitting.

And then I'm taking a nice, long nap . . . with cats.

Bloodroot

If it's spring, it must be time for livestock pictures!

Bootsy the Charming

Valentine the Belligerent

The Noble William, in all his woolly (and grimy) glory

and the flirtacious Rosita

Spring is Bustin' Out All Over

Things are popping up out in the woods—

Dog hobble, with spring beauty in front (those tiny white blossoms)—also in the picture below:


Mayapples

Spicewood (complete with what just might be the proverbial Bluebird of Happiness)

And trout lilies.

This is such a beautiful spring—the forsythia are golden fountains, the tame cherries are beginning to bloom, the maples are in red bloom, tiny green leaves on nearly everything. One might almost begin to believe that the Old Mother is saying, look—no matter the mess that you people have made of your world, and no matter how you've tried to destroy mine, it's still here, as beautiful as ever. Pay attention!

Ardea herodias, the great blue heron

Isn't he gorgeous? We saw him the other day down at the river; we and he paced each other half a mile or so. Here he wasn't fifty feet from us, going about his watery business while we watched.

Artifacts

We Have Been Busy . . .

We had rain last weekend—an inch and a half—so we worked in the garden this week. (Actually, John worked in the garden. I did laundry and baked things, and sewed and crocheted a little.) The cabbage (Jersey Wakefield and Flat Dutch, and a few plants of red) and broccoli are out, and the collards, and the scallions, and the garlic that somehow didn't get planted last fall; and the potato patch is plowed (waiting for the dark of the moon next week), and John is in the process of cutting seed potatoes. The black raspberries are beginning to leaf out, the bush cherries are blooming, and the weeping cherry in the bed behind my window is in full bloom and alive with bees. All of our three hives made it through the winter—one is nice and strong, one is . . . ok, and one is pretty weak, but still hanging in there. We put sugar water out for them, but they all three have bees coming back laden with pollen, so they are getting fed . . . I am watching anxiously to see whether my fig came through the winter intact. It's early yet, but it's been warm. . .

These are my next outside project: John's sister Betty (she and her husband own Henn's Plant Farm, if you're in the area) gifted us with a couple of flats of seedlings. The cabbage and broccoli are already in; these are violas, in several colors, and four pots of leopard's bane. I'm going to spot the violas over the yard—we had scads of them until last year, when they suddenly disappeared, and I've missed them sorely. The leopard's bane will go in the back somewhere, down in the patch where the Previous Wife had a flower bed, but I am not enthusiastic enough to weed back there too, so I'm going to plant things that are trouble free (relatively) and can be left alone with minimal weeding. We shall see how that works out . . .

Besides, I certainly don't want any leopards bothering William and his goats.

The other pots are herbs from Lowe's: parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme. I'm going to plant them in a half whiskey barrell where I grew basil last year; it's situated on the south side, next to a white wall, so they should do well. All my rosemary plants seem to have bitten it over the winter, even though they were Arps, which are supposed to be cold-hardy. Probably those single-digit nights back in January . . .  And the thing coming up in the pot is either chives or garlic chives; I shall have to taste it to be sure.

I finally got Eliza's long-promised doll clothes finished and mailed.

These are made from the remnants of this dress, which I made Eliza for Christmas, and don't believe I ever posted a phoo of:

Let's see, what else have I done? I finished this scarf:

which is made by the same pattern as this one, finished last month:

The pattern is the Seaman's Scarf, from Vogue Kntting on the god: Crochet Scarves. It's quick and easy and works up nicely in KnitPicks Palette (both of these: the upper one in Brindle Heather and the lower one in Pool), which is affordable and has nice colors. Lots of enjoyable crocheting for not much money . . . and these are a perfect car project.

We went down by the river again the other day, and I have pictures, but I still have to sort through them. Now we must go and deliver cookies, and pick up the mail, and get some milk, and maybe go down to Charley Owen and look for trout in the river . . .

More later.

Here's my doll for the Valentine swap at Stitchin' Fingers. My partner and I had a bit of trouble exchanging address, but we're all set now, so I feel safe in posting a photo or two. She's made from Julie McCullough's Snippets pattern. It's easy, lots of fun to make, and uses up many bits and pieces. I forsee more of these . . .
Her face is made from my ever-dwindling stash of the original Doe Suede (Guilford Mills made a lot of dollmakers very, very unhappy when they discontinued making this—there is nothing like it), and her hair is simply a crocheted chain of Fun Fur (which I hate working with, but it does make pretty cool hair), sewn on in a spiral around her head.
Cloesup of her heart: it's wool felt, with a bit of embroidery and a few buttons from the stash.

So we came to a fork in the road . . .