Take Joy!

The Cailleach, the Moon, and the Midnight Cats

January Bead Journal Project. Worked on Sova Enterprises' Bead Backing. Beads: irridescent seed beads and bugles, matte black charlottes, irridescent steel blue Delicas, #8 'silver', sterling silver seed beads, one big AB bead from an old necklace, irridescent flower beads, crystal leaves. Silver face charms, irridescent steel blue catsheads. A couple of small shisha mirrors. (I have, of course, no idea where these came from. My best guess would be Chevron Trading Post here in Asheville, Joggles online, and perhaps Lacis for the mirrors.)

The story? You must make one up . . .

(The Cailleach is one of the oldest Celtic goddesses, the Old Hag who brings winter and rules the snow-covered land.)

Discovery

We think this may be a crow's nest. It's in a tall pine at the end of the garden, and nearly invisible . . . until it snowed.

This was as much of a closeup as I could get with my little camera . . . but it certainly isn't a squirrel's nest (there's one of those over to the right, that shaggy lump in the bare tree). We have multitudes of those all around the house; in fact, I counted fifteen without even turning around!

At any rate, I'm hoping this really is a crows' nest. I like having them around, especially since we have hawks. There's a little one, a Cooper's (I think), that occasionally takes birds at the feeder, but he's small to get a grown chicken. However, John saw a big one just across the road at Willy's the other day. I didn't get a look at it, but he checked the bird guide and thinks it was a red-tailed. Those are plenty big enough to carry off my chickens! And there are eagles occasionally, too . . . but the crows will mob them and keep them from getting anything, so I'm hoping they will stay around this spring.

Updates will be posted . . .

Henry Tries to Take a Nap

Ahhh . . . what could be better than a nap in the sun on a cozy blanket? I'll just snuggle up to Ysabeau . . .

No, no! I don't want to play! I want to take a nap!!

Oh, woe! She's trying to bite my hand off!

Now she's eating my tail! I can't look . . . help, help!

Odds and Ends

You may have noticed the MPB Sew-Along button on the left . . . I've sewn men's shirts (one or two) back in the dim, distant, barely-remembered past (that would be the mid-70s, back before the Disastrous Second Marriage became quite so awful and I had time to do that sort of thing), but nothing since, and I want to relearn what I've forgotten, as well as some new stuff. I'll be using the Negroni pattern by Collette—pricey at $16 (for me, anyway; I usually defer pattern purchasing until a 5/$5 sale at Hancock), but it's an entire booklet of instructions that seem nice and clear, plus I got 20% off for being part of the sew-along. No fabric chosen yet, but I will be digging through The Stash in the next couple of days to see whether I have anything suitable. Probably not, so there may be a trip to various fabric stores in the near future . . .

__________

I never got around to making any New Year's resolutions. (Other than the perennial "I really must lose 20 pounds", which, in actuality, should be "I really must lose 50 pounds". However, 20 will do for a goal; particularly since, if I don't lose some weight, my doctor is making noises about "other medication" because my blood sugar is higher than she likes. I have plenty of medication already, thank you, so I shall walk. Even if it's only around the yard.) At any rate, instead there are "plans to do things" this year: the above-mentioned shirtmaking is one of them. Also, hauling out the Singer Featherweight John bought for me a couple of years ago, and I never had a chance to touch (tailgate market, no time, etc.), and then it got put into a cabinet (the proverbial 'safe place') . . . I got it out this week and my plan is to learn to use it, and then actually sew things on it. Clothing, possibly. Ditto the Singer treadle machine that belonged to my great-grandmother, currently in use (the machine, not the ancestor) as a sewing table for my Viking Classica. All the treadle machine needs is a new belt, which I have, just haven't gotten put it on. I have the manuals that came with both machines, and a book on Featherweights is on the way. There are also a couple of boxes of lethal-looking attachments that fit both Singers, and a buttonholer, as well as a walking foot for my Viking; I need to learn to use them.

So I suppose 2011 may be dubbed "The Year of Sewing, Possibly Dangerously."

Other things—well, I'm signed up for the Bead Journal Project again (button/link on the left also). I never finished my pieces last year, due to life and whatnot, but instead of attempting to carry them over, I am simply beginning again.  

And I am going to keep a garden notebook this year. And box up all the books that are currently living in piles all over the house. And quit biting my fingernails . . .

__________

I spent a pleasant afternoon last week watching the birds hop around on the non-melting (at that point; it's gone now, after a couple of days in the high 40s and nights above freezing) snow and making a mask for Emma. Her school is having a father-daughter banquet this coming weekend; the theme is "Masquerade." One of her other grandmothers bought her a dress, and I made this:

I didn't have to buy anything (which was fortunate, since we couldn't go anywhere). The felt, ribbons, trim, beads and sequins all came from various boxes and cabinets where I had squirrelled them away. The trim and sequins are vintage; the beads are newish. It's made of two layers of felt with fairly stiff interfacing in between (some I had left from making sunhats several years ago), and one more layer of felt on the back after everything was on, to cover my stitches. I made the ribbons long enough to tie behind her head, or she can tie them on to her glasses.

I really wanted to add some peacock feathers, but since it had to be mailed . . . Next time.

__________

I finished two more hats for Mom. (I'd made her two for Christmas, but I forgot to take pictures of them. Bad, bad.) Both are made from Malabrigo, bought before the last snow at Black Mountain Yarn Shop.

The purple one is a faux-turban from a pattern I found online, and the aqua one is from Julie Holetz's Seismic pattern.

__________

Hello, My Name Is . . . Henry

Part of my Christmas money went for a book called Hello, My Name is Aminecko. Aminecko is a crocheted cat, and there are directions as well as pictures of Adventures. (If I never made one, it would have been worth the money just to see the pictures.) So, while snowbound, I made Henry:

He has clothes because the partial ball of yarn I used turned out to be not quite so much as I'd thought, and I needed to pull out other partial balls of yarn to finish. And, after all, he is quite natty in his spring-y shorts and t-shirt.

Even if he does look a bit grumpy . . .

He has already had an Adventure. Pictures later. Now, he is resting.

 

 

Do Not Be Ashamed

You will be walking some night
in the comfortable dark of your yard,
and suddenly a great light will shine round about you,
and behind you
will be a wall you never saw before.
It will be clear to you suddenly that you were about to escape,
and that you are guilty: you misread the complex instructions,
you are not a member,
you lost your card or never had one.
And you will know that they have been there all along.
their eyes on your letters and books,
their hands in your pockets, their ears wired to your bed.
Though you have done nothing shameful,
they will want you to be ashamed.
They will want you to kneel and weep
and say you should have been like them.
And once you say you are ashamed,
reading the page they hold out to you,
then such light as you have made in your history will leave you.
They will no longer need to pursue you.
You will pursue them,
begging forgiveness.
They will not forgive you.
There is no power against them.
It is only candor that is aloof from them, only an inward clarity, unashamed,
that they cannot reach.
Be ready.
When their light has picked you out
and their questions are asked, say to them:
“I am not ashamed.” A sure horizon will come around you.
The heron wll begin his evening flight from the hilltop.

—Wendell Berry, “I Am Not Ashamed.” (by way of Bedlam Farm Journal)

Chickens in the Snow

Once Again, Snow . . .

Some sort of iris pods (I forget just what they're called, but they're not regular iris, they're blue-purple, and they spread like mad)

Empty feeder in the grape arbor

Small holly above the driveway (that tidy-looking shed in the background is, of course, not ours; that's where E.J. Katt lives)

Small dogwood in the upper front bed; those lumpy things on the branches are praying mantis egg cases

The ratty fir above the drive: this was during a brief above-freezing day—look at how the snow has become plastic-y and is drooping off the branches like icing!

 

We Are NOT Amused!

Yes, we have snow again . . .

Sleeping Partners

Darla has decided to emerge from the storeroom and become part of the pack.

Happy New Year from Martin the Pig (and me)

This is Martin the Pig, in his Yule finery:

(He has no Hogmanay finery; it was all I could do to finish this. Maybe by next year . . . )

He is a pleasantly chunky 6"x4.5", constructed of pink velveteen purchased for a quarter from the Kiwanis Thrift Store in Black Mountain. He's made from a vintage pattern, Circus Stars to Sew by Joan Russell; I ordered the original from Woman's Day in the late 60s/early 70s, and I also have another copy I bought on eBay. (Why? Because I stupidly cut up the original instead of tracing the pieces—I was considerably younger and more ignorant then, not to mention having much more faith in my ability not to lose small pieces of paper. I did the same with another Joan Russell/Woman's Day pattern, called A Toyfull Little Santa, but I have been unable to find another copy anywhere. If anyone has one they would either like to sell, or like to sell a copy of . . . )

His festive wreath is nothing but a piece of pink bias tape from the odds-and-ends bag with a snap on the ends so it's removable. The leaves are cut from a scrap of wool felt, and the beads are some I had in a little box, waiting to be used. I had intended to make the leaves from some vintage holly-leaf-shaped sequins I have, but they stuck out oddly and the effect wasn't at all what I'd intended, so they have gone back into the box for another day. I spent the better part of an afternoon cutting out bits of felt, and another evening sewing them on (which is more fiddly than you'd expect; on the other hand, I didn't feel like doing much of anything anyway other than blowing my nose and sneezing, and I was tired of reading, believe it or not, and tired of sleeping).

Here he is without any clothing:

And because someone asked me: his tail is wired; it's a piece of pipe cleaner rolled in a scrap of velveteen and sewed on, then curled over a pencil. His eyes are beads. His ears aren't wired: the pattern showed them just straight out from his head, but that made him look like he was attempting (unsuccessfully) to take off, so I ran a thread around the outside (after I'd sewed them on) and scrunched them until I liked the way they looked. His ear linings are cut from a piece of fabric I just liked and bought only a quarter yard of, then got it home and realized it was perfect for this. Maybe I'll make him a ruff one of these days; I probably have a piece of vintage cotton rickrack (which is SO much nicer to use than that nasty polyester stuff they make now) lurking about somewhere . . .