Autumn in the Pacific Northwest

by

As summer begins to fade in other parts of the country, we, folks of the Valley, are elated at the forecast for less-than-one-hundred-degree days ahead. Even as we crank the AC, gulp down water at any chance, the world tells us it is time to wear sweaters, thicker socks, scarves. Time to begin Halloween crafting, or go for a walk in the crisp air to fawn over yellow, orange, and red trees. Time to ingest pumpkin spice in all substances imaginable, especially if it gives you a good excuse to order an extra-large latte or bake a pumpkin cheesecake.

But here, it is still sandal season. It is still iced tea, sun every day, sun screen, sun glasses, reflector in your car so it won’t be a thousand degrees when you get in. Fall leaves? Please. We wish, but we will hardly see a hint of what most call “Autumn” for another few weeks. And that is why we desert folk pretend that it is actually fall, just like the others pretend it is actually hot in the summer.

My husband and I recently returned from a visit to Washington state, and I realized that I had not experienced this season in my hometown for five years. To me, this transition was never about finding a seemingly legitimate reason to spend an unreasonable amount of money on fashionable new boots. It was discovering things to cheer me up when things became mundane as school caught on. Going back at this time of year revealed some of those gentle reminders that every day is different and beautiful, but sometimes to see it, you have to pay attention.

WashingtonVacation_090913_0757_2

Stash Reboot.

by

My yarn stash has surpassed the threshold of my patience. There is no reason to bury partially finished works or ones that happened to turn out awful. I have resolved to cease shoving bits of unfinished projects and bags of random colors, mixed in with various tools and scraps, hidden away in scattered places of my home. The time has come for them to no longer burden my storage spaces.

It began with some research (Pinterest). I read a few articles on “How to Organize Your Stash,” in which there are different strategies for sorting and organizing and logging all the types of yarn by color, weight, material etc. Luckily my stash has not grown to fill many closets over twenty five years, like some, so the task took little more than an afternoon.

I got several memory boxes on sale (60% off) and went at it like I was packing a suitcase. Stuff a one or two boxes full of one kind of thing, label them, and move on.

As I went I unraveled the old, the unfinished, the hideous and the undesirable pieces. Then rewound the fibers into new balls, full of potential, and saving any useful scraps for filling.

I also filled a large bag with things I would never use to be given away–buttons, thread and finished hats that have been stuffed in dark places for two or three years. Well, no more! They will find use elsewhere.

Now anything I want to use is within reach, in its own home. I am no longer digging through bins and boxes all over the place trying to find that one thing. I can finally sleep at night.

Weekly Creatures: Black Widow

by

Although I have a solid case of arachnophobia, I was able to brave my fears and get close enough to photograph this black widow. I have been able to do this on a few occasions, with various arachnids, but it only works if the subject stays still. I would much rather see the spider through my viewfinder than not know where it has snuck off to, or worse find it on me.

Fiber Snob.

by

As I have mentioned previously, I make things. I make photographs, books, crafty things. I also make works with fiber–I knit and crochet. By no means am I an expert. Most of my works are constructed out of plain, basic stitched rectangles and tubes usually containing cheap acrylic yarns, and as fast as possible. As I learned these skills as a child, when extra change for yarn was scarce and patience even scarcer, a trip to Michaels with ten precious dollars meant several skeins and numerous possibilities. It’s a mindset that I held to until a few years ago, during a visit to my parents’ over holiday break.

At Christmas, my mom always built up many little gifts throughout the year when there were sales; so cute little lotions, candies, gloves, and some other piece of clothing were somewhat standard, all wrapped separately of course, as to have the maximum excitement of opening packages. Then we might have one special gift that stood out, that we had been waiting for. Dad was opposite. He braved the seas of frantic shoppers the week (or day) before, wildly searching for anything the receiver may appreciate.

This year was the same, but with every little thing I opened came a skein of yarn. Not any kind of thing you could find at the big box craft stores; this was Peruvian yarn made from Alpaca wool that Dad brought home from his most recent trip to Peru. See he works for a gold mining company that has mines all over the world…but more on that another time.

Anyways, I would open a box with a bunch of tissue paper and stuffed in the bottom was a skein. Later I would open a giftbag with a pile of candy…and below a layer of skeins. As you may have guessed, more easily than I did at the time, the final gift was in another room, a box filled with a couple dozen more skeins. That’s right. I laid them all on my bed and there were more than 60 skeins of this lovely, soft, precious material.

 

[Puchka pile, safe from Gus.]

 

 

 

Needless to say, I went nuts.

It took years to carve away at this stash, and even then there were so many I could not take back to school with me, so Mom dropped a couple of bags off to the knitting ladies at church. Even now, there are a few last skeins that I had trouble allowing myself to use, because they were part of this happy occasion. To use them, there had to be a special project, where they would be appreciated and valued. This and a flash of inspiration on Pinterest I am working on something that will do these things. But I needed more yarn that had the same value, lush color and softness.

 

 

 

 

 

One of the great things about yarn shops is that they have handcrafted products. This skein is from a fair trade company that gives economic and social opportunities to local artisans. And the yarn is so soft, extra fine marino wool, kettle dyed so the color shifts across rows, and of course I have a soft spot for this rich teal hue. I could not let myself pass it up.

Try not to misunderstand me, I do love a good sale and some projects work just fine with acrylic yarns. But if I will be spending many hours working with a material and I intend for the final product to be something precious, big box store brands just don’t cut it anymore.

New Bun.

by

For quite some time I have know that our house rabbit, Tootsie, needed a friend. Many of her days are spent mostly alone, which can cause her time and again to be destructive and moody. She is often bored. She rarely plays, even with most of the house under her domain. So, I thought, another rabbit to socialize with might make her happy.

Scouring craigslist and searching shelter listings every day, we came up empty. Then, during a vet visit, we were connected with a little bun whose parents were rescued strays. Instead of paying up to $65 from a breeder for a bunny eight weeks or more, we adopted this little four-week-old fella for free.

 

 

 

Now bonding Tootsie and–the one for whom we have yet to find the perfect name–may take weeks. So far Tootsie has been territorial and somewhat paranoid, but I have a feeling she will warm up to him in time.