bee creative

one

 

While I was finishing up my blue sweater, I started thinking about how one stitch + one stitch + one stitch = something greater.  It reminded me of how one act + one act + one act can = something greater. 

About 15 years or so ago I started doing that, picking one plastic thing to give up for the year.  Just one.  First it was plastic bags at the grocery store, then plastic dishes, then I started getting milk in glass bottles,  and so on.   Now I have as little plastic as possible in my life. 

I made six of these bags for gifts this year.  Mostly for people who I suspect still get that plastic bag at the grocery store.  Maybe it will be a first step for them.

I started thinking about whether one person really can make a difference.  An old question that still get asks.  Whether one act can make a difference.    Yes.

I started thinking about how  many of us often feel as if there isn't enough time to get things done.  Yet one moment (and oh how I love that moment is rooted in the Latin word momentum), here and there can make a sweater, a blanket, a garden, or can clean a space that's become too cluttered. 

I had a lot of fun exploring and thinking about direction this year (much I didn't share here).  My direction for 2011 is "one."  It seems like just one think might make it possible to "break through" (as Jude commented on my last post, another direction).  And so "one" seems like a very good place to begin again. 

The calendar year is just one way of measuring time.  Welcome 2011.  Happy New Year! 

 

begin again

Always starting something...

yesterday

A walk to the creek:

 

There is a poem caught in all this for me.  Like the crayfish embedded in the rocks. 

Making gnocchi.  We do this every year on the 25th of December.  My mother makes the dough and rolls it out into snakes.  She cuts the dough into little cubes.  I flick the cubes off the tines of a fork.  There is a right way to do this and a wrong way.  Grandma picks up the rolled out gnocchi and places them onto a tray.  She likes to make organized tidy little rows.  Dad comes and is in charge of placing the gnocchi in the boiling water, scooping them out as they rise to the surface.  He spoons them into a baking dish and my mother pours sauce over the top and sprinkles with Parmesan cheese.  Later, they will be baked in the oven until they are hot and the cheese melts and the sauce bubbles.  Brothers may or may not show up to help eat (because that is life) and sometimes friends without family in the area. And then there will be next year and hopefully a spoonful or two of leftovers. 

winter light

 
"I heard a bird sing in the dark of December, A magical thing and sweet to remember."  Oliver Hereford

Peace and joy...

 

more mending

The dotty moon blanket went into the washing machine.  Because that's the way my life is.  A few corners unravelled.  And while I appreciate the texture, I don't think it will last well. 

I couched the loose threads in and then stitched some more.  Not particularly tidy, but functional.  It's the gray squares that didn't wear as well, a looser woven fabric. 

On a couple of the squares I had experimented with using some hand spun yarn for the stitching.  I didn't like it as much at first, it seemed too bulky.  But (and I should have thought of this) with washing it's felted into the woven fabric some and works quite well.  I think I'll be filling in some of the thinner spots of this blanket with hand spun yarn after all. 

mending

Before:

After:

My great-grandmother was still crocheting when my brothers and I were born.  She made each of us a "baby blanket."  I'm not sure about the practicability of a fillet crocheted baby blanket... they weren't used that way I think.  But they were around as I grew up and inevitably stains and extra holes were made.  It's been awhile since I cut off the best part of mine and made it into a pillow.  And as it goes, more "extra" holes have appeared.    It was time for a bit of mending. 

one more minute

one more minute of light...sunset at 4:16 instead of 4:15, yesterday's time.

Today's yarn.

the magic of I can

 

Many projects at the moment are top secret, but I do have a few things to share.  Unexpectedly I ended up with the next week off (it's a good thing) which means I have time to work on other projects too.

Today a bit of spinning and weaving.

This yarn is a mixture of blue flax and wool that I carded together and then spun.  It's the result of having seen yarn in a shop that I fell in love with and then thought, "Hey, I can do that!" 

I added some of it to a sampler I've been working on.  And then went outside to turn on the lights and looked up to see this:

Now I'm waiting for snow. 

garden update: November and December

Not much to harvest in the garden right now... a few snippets of herbs and windfall branches for decorations.  I wasn't as organized as I wanted to be and didn't get spinach and kale planted.

The seed catalogues have started to arrive and I am dreaming about what I want to grow this spring. Mostly I'm adding dye plants to the garden.

 

Jitterbug is molting at the moment so no eggs. I took this picture a couple weeks ago.  She's even more bald now.  I love the texture of the downy little feathers but she sure is funny looking....

 

tree making

My friend and I were eight or nine years old, sitting on the hill looking down at the wind pushing up waves on the water.  We were arguing about whether it was "white water" or "white caps."  One of our mothers settled our argument by tellling us that we are both right.  Making this reminded me of that moment.

Moon or sun, snowflakes or stars.  They could be either. 

I could fall asleep under this tree...  Thank you Jude for the inspiration.