Things that make me happy...

I've been sensing the breath of my faithful companion, the Black Dog of Depression, close behind me, so today I want to think about (and share) a few of the things that have made me happy recently.

First, a lovely surprise from Michelle, my partner in the Swap-Bot Felted Sweater Creations swap: These sweet handwarmers. They're soooo soft and warm, and of course the little birds are exactly perfect. When they arrived in the post, I put them on and didn't take them off all the rest of the day. These will be amazing when I'm having trouble with the Rayaud's.

Next, here are the moose mama and calf in the Chena River. Moose make me happy because they're so unlikely. I never could have imagined an animal that huge, and they're surprisingly graceful on those ungainly-looking legs. I love the strange horse-y, mule-y face, with the soft nose, and their color, which is so much more than brown, but which I cannot name.

Here's Leaf, doing his best imitation of Jabba the Hut. He looks disgusted, no? That's because he follows the sun around the room, and he'd worked himself into this position to get maximum belly exposure, but the light has moved on and he's almost too lazy to move again.
This is my hoya plant, which has just begun to bloom for the first time since I've had it. Actually, until last summer, it was just a stick in a pot of dirt. I'm not sure why it decided to grow leaves all of a sudden after five years (or why I kept it that long with no sign of life), but it did and I did. This pic is just before the buds popped open. I haven't gotten a good photo of the full bloom yet.

The twig was a gift from a former client, when I used to do respite care for elders. I know she told me she'd had the plant for at least 40 years, probably more, and I think that it had come from her grandmother. (That seems to happen a lot, which is why I guess they also call it "Grandma's wax plant." )

Finally, a couple of knitting pix. The first is a pair of Peace Fleece socks I finished sometime in February (I think) for Afghans for Afghans. I took the photos and then forgot about them, so it was a joy to find them again... I think they may be my favorite knitted object ever: Not the fanciest, but certainly the most cheerful.

The pink and brown Sugar 'n Cream dishcloths are pure instant gratification. I never used to understand why anybody would knit a dishcloth -- until I did it myself. I don't particularly like knitting with cotton (too rough on the hands), but there's nothing better when you need to do something quick, if only for the satisfaction of actually binding something off not too long after casting on. (I made the finished one yesterday.)



Also, it's true that these things beat store-bought rags and sponges all to heck and back. I love how soft they are in the water... almost makes washing dishes pleasant. (This colorway is just like Neapolitan ice cream: Yummy. And like the ice cream, not something I'd ordinarily like, either, but I really really do.)

It's 4:30 a.m., again, so off to bed I go. Later today I have marigolds, petunias, gloriosa daisies and geraniums to plant. G and I visited the Plant Kingdom, and I behaved resonably well... Will have to go back again soon to snag the herbs and pothos and lantana and bamboo I pretended to ignore today.

A few of the promised photos...

I'm supposed to be at my bench, but I thought I'd play hookey long enough to post a few pix.

First, here are the socks and hat I just finished for Afghans for Afghans.


















Next is the handbag I made out of a felted sweater for Swap-Bot. I'm a little embarrassed by the (lack of) quality of construction... My sewing machine hasn't been used in so long that it just refused to do anything for me. So that meant hand-stitching the lining and then stitching it to the bag... and I'm not very good at that. I mean, it will stay together, but it isn't exactly lovely. Also, I think my Gramma Dolamore would shudder at the embroidery. Obviously haven't done that in years, either.

Still, I think the colors are pretty and the overall effect is what I intended. Sure hope my partner likes it.




















Here are four mandalas I drew for another swap. I used to do this a lot as a way to meditate and let my spirit play, but these are the first I've done in years. I forgot how much I enjoy just letting go and seeing what happens. In this case, the process really is more important than the product, but I do hope my partners like them.



















And finally, here are the trumpeter swans. I didn't catch them forming the perfect heart with their necks, but close. Still wish I could have gotten them standing on their heads.















Okay, now back to the bench. I have more photos to share, especially of the moose and the Chena River. Maybe tomorrow.

Busy, busy, busy... and a migraine.

Had forgotten all about the May 25 deadline for the Afghans for Afghans Mother's Day campaign, so Friday and yesterday I spent knitting a couple of quickies... a little baby hat and a kid's pair of socks. I used the Peace Fleece in Baghdad Blue (probably my favorite), plus some hand-dyed stuff from my ISE-3 scarf pal and a bit of the Peace Fleece Shaba green.

They're drying now; I'll take pictures and (I hope) post them tomorrow. Keeping fingers crossed that sending them Priority Mail on Monday will get them to San Francisco in time. Even if not, they'll go in the next shipment.

There's something so satisfying about knitting with Peace Fleece. It's just good, plain wool, and you know that whatever you knit with it will be warm and comforting. That's what I want when I knit for A4A. It pleases me no end to know that some little kid will be just a little but warmer in my socks or hat. It's not ending the war, but it is sending love out into the world, and sometimes that's the best we can do.

I trudge along on dial-up, but if you have a faster connection, you might want to check out this newscast about A4A. I spent several hours downloading it and watching it little bit by little bit, and seeing the kids' joy over socks (and listening to the volunteers in the warehouse, too) inspired me again.

I spent most of today in bed with a migraine. They seem to be coming more frequently and to be more debilitating, so I've decided to give in and ask for the meds. I hate taking any more chemicals than I absolutely have to, but I can't continue to spend two to three days a month in bed, dead to the world (or just wishing I were dead).

The jewelry orders have begun to flood in: utterly predictable, as tourist season officially opened May 15, and so much of my stuff sells in galleries visited by tourists. Predictable, but have I prepared? Well, no. I have started a new design series, though, that I'm calling "Forest Floor." I'm roll printing leaves onto sheet silver and copper for cuffs and earrings. I haven't perfected the process yet, so everything is still a happy (or not-so-happy) accident. But even that is good, as I've found myself thinking of new ways to use the "mistakes." I'm trying to find new processes that are a bit easier on my wrists, tho I'll always love hammering.

G. and I drove out Chena Hot Springs Road yesterday and saw a pair of trumpeter swans with their two babes, plus a gazillion moose. Well, five moose. But all within a couple of miles of each other. Of course, just like tourists, we had to go back and take pictures. In one case, the mama moose obviously got huffy about the papparazzi interrupting their idyllic feed in the river. She raised her hackles and snorted to "junior," and they trotted off... but not before I got the pix.

I haven't uploaded the photos to my computer yet, but once again hope to post a few in the next couple of days. I really hope the swans came out okay; they were quite a distance away. When I first saw them, both adults were standing on their heads in the water. It tickled me, but as soon as we stopped the truck to snap pix, they bobbed upright and floated around making the heart-shaped neck curves.

Of course, I picked up several pocketsfull of rocks, too. Can't ever have enough rocks.

Took the clippers out to work on the Siberian pea late today, and got my first mosquito bites of the season. It's scary dry here, so there aren't that many skeeters (yet). I noticed that even the moss on the swampy parts of the property has dried out, which I don't think I've seen happen before. This is also the first year that I haven't sunk ankle deep in muck going out to the chicken pens. Break-up came and went so quickly, and there was so little snowfall, that there just wasn't any standing water or mud at all. Trying not to be panicky, but the thought of fire in all this black spruce scares hell out of me.

I still haven't finished my felted sweater purse for my Swap-Bot pal. Deadline for mailing is Monday, so guess I'll be working on it when I get up later today. As usual, haven't yet been to bed yet. I mean, haven't been to bed again. I did spend the day there, didn't I?

Snowing. Hard.

I'm a night owl, and with nights shorter and shorter here anyway at the moment, I'm really finding it hard to go to bed... or stay there.

But I wish I had last night. Because the sun is coming up, and it is snowing. Not just a little dusting, either. It's coming down hard, and there's already an inch on the deck railing.

Now, I love snow. Love love love it.

But. It has been spring here for weeks. Early, yes. But temps in the 60s for awhile, then in the 50s. The leaves appeared on the trees last week as they always do: All of a sudden. Drive to town in the morning, all is grey and brown and bare. Drive back home in the late afternoon, and everything is tinged green with new buds.

I'm sure the day will bring a bit of warmth that will turn this back into the dreary rain that has been so depressing all weekend. (Again, don't get me wrong. We need the water. I just would rather it rain during the week, and maybe take a break every few hours. But that's a bit demanding, isn't it?)

Anyway, the redpolls are attacking the feeders as if there's no tomorrow, and the juncoes have come back. (Lovely little grey things.)

I'm going to bed. I think. In awhile.

Today I found some ancient air-dry modeling clay, a terracotta color. After much adding of water and smearing of mud, I got it into workable form and made a snapping turtle. I'm in a swap for hand-made turtles. I don't know if I'll send this one or not: He's pretty rough. But the more I look at him, the more real he gets.

No turtles in Alaska. I miss them. And they, in turn, make me miss my mom. She died of a stroke when I was 19 and she was 41. I'm almost five years older than she ever got to be.

We used to love to go "riding around" when I was growing up in Georgia. That meant driving aimlessly on the back roads and dirt roads, looking at whatever there was to see. Whenever we came across a turtle sunning itself in the middle of the road, Mama would slam on the brakes, come to a screeching halt in the middle of the road, and get all excited. "DeeDee, get out and get that turtle!"

So I'd get out, pick up the poor turtle, and put it in the back floorboard of the car. Mama was convinced that all turtles lived near water, so we might drive for a couple of miles to find a creek or pond. How many dozens of turtles were forevermore confused and disoriented after these "rescues," I wonder?

The thing is, she was rescuing them... from certain death, smashed flat on the pavement by mean people or people driving too fast to see them.

These were snapping turtles, usually, and the old folks always said if one ever bit you, it would chomp down and hold on until it thundered. Needless to say, the turtles made me a little nervous. And I remember more than once having one crawl under the front seat and up near my legs. Eek! Another slamming on of brakes, and this time all the doors flying open and all three of us (Mama, Karen and me) tumbling out of the car. Somehow, it was always my job to get the turtle.

I sure miss my mom. I'm surprised every single year when Mother's Day comes and it hurts. It has been 26 years, and I still feel orphaned. Having no children of my own (something I usually know is a good thing) makes it harder.

But, it's good to remember and laugh.

And the sky is now a rosy pink, and the snow really is pretty.

But I'm going to bed.

Hosting another swap...

I said I'd restrain myself, but nope. I set up another swap last night. In my defense, it's just a postcard swap. I've found that getting postcards is just too much fun. This one combines my love of posties with my love of fabrics... I'm asking folks to buy or create postcards that depict fabric, either the fabric itself or fabric being made, as on a loom. Not a terribly popular idea so far... Only three have signed up. But it did get bumped off the recent swaps list pretty quickly, so maybe that's it.

Anyway, please join me: Textiles Postcard Swap. Sign-ups end June 1 and postcards should be sent by June 15.

I finally cut the felted sweater for the purse, but I haven't begun to stitch it together yet. I found some cute 60s-ish fabric for the liner, plus some fuschia canvas strapping (for the strap... duh). And I have plans to applique some felt flowers and perhaps do some embroidery on it, too. I may be exceeding my sewing talents, though, since I have no idea where my sewing machine is at the moment. That should tell you how often I use it.

I wish I had thought to take pictures of the sweater before I felted it and before I cut it, but I guess pix of the finished product will have to do. I'm determined to devote this weekend to getting it done.

Speaking of photos... Here are the Tibetan prayer flags that make me so happy every time I look out my window.

Mother-Daughter Handbags

I almost don't want to mail these, but Karen's birthday was May 3 and they're already late. I finished her felted handbag and then realized I had enough yarn left over to do a "daughter" version for my little neice, Ivy. Guess they can do double duty for Mother's Day.

I'm surprised by how much I'm coveting these, mostly for the colors, I think. They were really quick to knit, so I'll probably get more yarn to make myself a really huge messenger-style bag.

Yarn: Lion Wool in Rose, Patons Classic Merino in Leaf Green and Moda Dea Cache in Smartie
Knit on size 10.5 aluminum circular needles
Each bag took about three hours to knit and felted very nicely in my front-load washer.

I finished knitting the Folds of Function bag from Folk Bags many days ago, but as usual can't get myself to do the sewing up and finishing. Must do it, tho, because I've already told my friend I've had something red growing on the needles that belongs to her.

I'm working on a felted sweater bag for a swap partner. The sweater was a wonderful vintage 1960s handknit in white wool with windowpane checks in aqua embellished with a leafy green. I didn't feel too badly about fulling it, because it had already been washed by accident (I'd guess) sometime before it hit the thrift store. I just need to get the strap and some embroidery floss for blanket stitching around the bottom, but I keep forgetting to take it into town with me so I can match the colors. I'm thinking of knitting a couple of flowers to felt for decoration, too. Hope my partner loves it, because once again, I'm coveting this material! And the sweater reminded me of my mom, for some reason.

I overdyed one of my G's Microsoft shirts (laundry accident had left it with rust-colored stains) with plain old Rit dye in Teal. I did it on the stovetop, and while at it threw in an older knit cotton dishcloth. I was surprised at how pretty the color turned out, so tossed in a ball of ancient wool from my old weaving stash... It had been dyed a strange off-green, a mistake, I think. Anyway, I didn't follow any of the rules. Didn't wet the yarn first. Didn't unwind the ball; just let it sink slowly and left it until the bubbles stopped. Put it in after the water had cooled a good bit; then stuck it in the microwave to set the dye. After all of this, it turned out to be the prettiest robin's egg blue, a bit heathery. One end is more saturated than the other -- strangely, the inside of the ball is the saturated bit. But I really like it and am glad I "just did it."

I've got to get focused on dyeing some good yarn for the Dye-No-Mite swap. I've got some beautiful hand-dyed stuff on order as a failsafe, but I want to do something special for her.

For now, though, back to the bench and the hammers.

Love at a Distance

The beginning of love is to let those we love be perfectly themselves, and not to twist them to fit our own image. Otherwise, we love only the reflection of ourselves we find in them.

Thomas Merton

Oh, if only I could do this! I do believe in Jung's principle of mirroring: We are attracted to people who exhibit qualities we wish we had, and we dislike people for attitudes and behaviors they share with our shadow selves.

So is it even possible to love someone without having one's self all mixed up in it? Although I believe we're all a part of the same "being" or "soul" or even "deity" anyway, I do think that we can work on loving the whole of a person. This seems easier for me to do if I'm not with the person everyday, tho. I can smile at my dear ones' foibles if I don't have to witness them day after day.

Although I wasn't thinking of her when I wrote the above, today is my little sister's birthday. We had a difficult relationship growing up, but distance and email have made it so much easier to love each other. I've knit her a beautiful felted handbag... just have to decide on the handle or straps, and then I can mail it out. Late, as always. But that's one of my own foibles, probably harder for others to smile about.

This would be a good day to get out the camera and take pictures of some finished objects. Maybe later.

Must go out and feed and water the chickens and let the geese out of their pen. It's a gorgeous day: 60 degrees, clear sky, breezy (which should keep the mosquitos at bay; yes, they're already hatching). I have much to do at my bench, and much that I want to do, but today is one of those days I'd just like to run away and sit by myself outside somewhere. Perhaps I can do that for half an hour?

Swap Rocks!

All my life, I have picked up rocks and stones and pebbles wherever I went. I'm sure there are still sacks of them hidden in closets in my childhood home.

Even now, I have small piles of them here and there... some by my computer, some around my tabletop fountain, a few scattered amongst my plants. Often, I forget where I found them. But sometimes they retain part of the character of the place or an echo of the feelings of the day. Those are the special ones, the ones that end up on or near my little shrine.

Anytime anyone I know plans to travel, I always ask for a rock instead of a touristy doodad. I've gotten some amazing rocks this way.

I've just started my first Swap-Bot swap. As if I have time to do anything else... I'm a bit overcommited, but apparently addicted.

I really hope most folks don't read it and think I'm "dumb as a rock." :o
It would be great to get a few dedicated people who understand the spirit of rocks. We'll see. If you want to join, the link is to the right.

[Triumph! I actually got a functioning button there! Still can't get the others to work, but now there's hope.]