When it's quiet I can hear the rain hit the top of the chimney. I can often tell how hard the rain is falling by how much noise is created.
Snow however makes no noise...
The snow was from earlier this week, there is however a chance of snow again. I guess I'll wait another week to plant peas.
Last Friday I walked home along the boardwalk...
This Friday I played a little bit...
It's been a very long week... but it's Friday again. And Monday will be a new week.
Jude's post today (Spirit Cloth) reminded me of something I hadn't posted yet. A little sample I worked on the last month of December. My parents found some local cashmere wool for me. It's a bit hard for me to spin by itself, but mixes in beautifully with some other wool that I have. A bit of the cashmere can be seen in the picture. It's a brownish gray and is so very soft.
Today I was able to come home early from work.
I took a walk through the park.
Tried to work on one of my blankets but had a little too much help.
And took the chickens a treat.
I've had three eggs this week, despite the cold weather. Barred rocks (the striped chickens) will lay through the winter their first year (edited: and sometimes other years too). I was lucky enough to get a piece of plastic over their run so they've had a nice cozy shelter during our snow storm.
While I was out I noticed one of the last branches of lunaria in the garden. They are becoming even more transparent as they age.
I've been thinking about how snow is rain transformed. The ordinary (for us) made unusual (again, for us). The snow has caused a lot of frustration for people I know, but as it melts away, I still think it is magical...
Now it's time to spin white yarn.
The field across from where I work...
There has been 8 to 18- 20 inches depending on what neighborhood. It's all about snow right now...
Hello snow... I've been waiting for you.
We don't have much snow yet...but enough to enchant my walk. Enough to distract me for several hours today.
Enough that soup was the perfect meal for lunch. It also happens to be my "Dark days" meal for the week. I added some dehydrated corn and peppers for some extra flavor. The last potato from my garden and a handful of parsley that I picked today went into the pot too.
Parsley is hardy stuff, but we're supposed to have a pretty long stretch of cold so I pretty much picked everything. I'll make a "pesto" with most of it.
This is last week's "Dark Days" meal that I never got around to posting. It turned into a comfort meal of sorts. The last of the sugar pie pumpkin I grew topped with hazelnuts, a boiled egg and apple slices.
It was good.
This morning, at the bus stop, for just a moment a glimpse of what would appear to be the full moon. But according to the charts I looked at, the full moon was really yesterday. It made me think about how without science, determining when the moon was full would be a matter of instinct, of faith, of poetry.
My first seed order arrived today. Perhaps I can grow a blue moon...
I spent about 45 minutes outside this morning, watching the moon become transformed. Not invisible but something else than it usually is. The photographs I took seem much redder than the moon actually was.
And then the clouds rolled in and the moon was gone.
I was left with the idea that the moon might drip light...
I brought this home today along with the food that I purchased at the farmer's market. I'm going to call it my red moon button.
I took all of these pictures today.
On the way to work...
On the way home...
Along the edge of the water a man stood playing his violin. I thought of taking his picture, but that always seems wrong to me. To take a picture without asking. And to have interrupted him would have been an intrusion.
"For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)/it's always ourselves we find in the sea"
e.e. cummings
And a song that has become a favorite.
equals
I decided I needed to learn how to do something new this week.
So I taught myself how to fold a paper boat.
And I set it to sail on a piece of cloth that was a gift. One that I had left folded in the sun this summer and then dyed in indigo.
And then I played a bit more.
A good thing to do under the full moon.
I'm not sure how old I was when I figured out that Clarence and Lucille weren't biologically related to us. I think one of my brother's didn't figure it out until he was a teenager. They were just always there...for family events and in family stories.
My grandmother recently sent me this. A set of pillowcases with tatted edging that Lucille made.
It's something I'll treasure.
My grandmother also sent me some quince. I poached some of it and then made a yogurt cake (I used oat flour and whole wheat) with quince and blackberries. Rather than stir the fruit into the batter, I placed it on the top of the cake before baking. Worked much better this way...
I don't own a car:
It forces you to walk more. Even when you are tired...
(These pictures are from earlier in the week.)
And to look closer.
(This one is from today.)
Some of these leaves are heading for the dye pot.
And a video that I found this morning while I was looking around.
More layers, more storytelling.
Today I realized one of the gifts of taking a photo is just to be in the moment...one magical moment caught:
And a kitchen update: the feta is a tad bit salty but good. I'll be making it again.
P.S. I couldn't stand it and switched th blog back! Let me know if it is still requiring a sign in and I'll play with the settings. I have a choice now!
What if clouds were made of lots of tiny little flowers? (Playing with Photoshop again).
I turned the heat on for the first time last night. The temperatures are supposed to be close to freezing tomorrow so tonight I picked my three winter squash/pumpkins. I have a few small lemon cucumbers to pick and I'll check the tomatoes one last time tomorrow and that will be it for the summer crops this year.
Looking a little bit closer at the large winter squash. It gives me ideas...
Normally I photograph and save the first autumn leaf that catches my eye. This year it is the second. The first one is lost somewhere, perhaps pressed between two pieces of paper where I thought it would be safe? (I found it the last week of August.)
This is the one I noticed this morning. Along one of the paths I normally walk there were many, many leaves to choose from already. For the next couple months I will probably be picking up leaves every day. It is something I tend to do every year.
This will have to happen every year too.
"Actually" (to quote a 2 year old I know), maybe more than once.
It was foggy this morning...just a touch of autumn in the air.
Noticed between the boards that make up the walkway across my garden.
I walked out the door at just the right moment this morning to be able to notice the colors in this spider web.
Summer sunlight caught for just a moment, at just the right angle...
And this evening, at an outdoor concert, just before sunset...
The clouds are coming back.
And from the market today:
Glass straws.
Rain, lots of rain this morning.
But I did make it to the farmer's market. The first of asparagus, turnips, kale raab. I also bought spinach and lettuce.
And it actually got a bit sunny. Which was good, because this afternoon was the Procession of the Species parade. And that inspired me to come home and start this:
Growing lions. Just a beginning.... Inspired by this.
Today I went for a walk with a friend.
Across a bridge.
Looking beyond the bridge.
Under the bridge.
And because I've always liked this song: "Bridge over Troubled Water."
I've been sorting through piles and found this in my "to be returned to" pile...
The bouquet is a scan of a picture my grandmother drew for her mother as a child. I printed it out on silk and then stitched it to other fabric.
Tonight I decided to stitch the edges of the drawn "ruffle" and added some of my great-grandmother's crocheted lace. I'm going to keep this at the top of the pile for awhile.
From my garden:
Last night between rain showers. This morning we had snow for an hour...big wet flakes. I joked at work that spring would be back around 4 PM today. It was closer to 6 PM. Still cold.
Fritillaria
Primrose
They were sitting on the table minding their own business when suddenly they tumbled one on top of the other. And it was just right...
I have a warm toasty house again. That's right too.
Moon cycles...moon come round again through the branches
Later moon, dancing just past the reach of branches and wires. Makes me think of how connections form.
There is a chance that the northern lights will be visible here tomorrow morning. Funny how magic might be predicted.
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