Turn Of Days

For a few days now I have been fighting what I call the Autumn Blues. Even though this is my favorite time of the year I know that what lies ahead is all doom and gloom. I'll be honest I hate winter. I hate the cold and I hate.... just hate the snow. I mean don't get me wrong. I can appreciate the beauty of the snow and how it looks at various times of the day. But when I open the door and experience the cold air, when I get up at 9 a.m. and it is still dark these are the things that make winter a miserable time of the year for me.

The other thing that makes this time of the year a time of the Blues is.... I, unlike most other women, like my Hubby home. I actually enjoy the man. Why I cannot say.... maybe for the same reasons that I married him... but you would think that after 17 years of marriage I would now think of him as a nuisance. Most women don't want their husbands under foot in their kitchens, but I like my Hubby in the kitchen... he can actually cook as well as I do. I like his company and miss him when he isn't around.
Actually being married to a teacher and having a man around a lot in the summer, I think, brings us closer together. We do things together and its nice to spend time with the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

I will also miss the girls when they go back to school. I like them and have a lot of fun with them. It gives me great pleasure to watch them growing up and school undermines my time with them. So you see even though the weather of autumn doesn't bother me, I actually like it, there are some serious disadvantages to autumn.

You will note that a few weeks ago I noticed the first signs of fall.... the grass had a golden look to it. Now I have started to notice that the trees are turning colour too. My tomato plants are starting to turn yellow underneath. the tops are still green and so are the tomatoes but underneath the leaves have turned yellow. As a matter of a fact all my flowers on the deck have a decidedly tired look about them.

So in honour of the Autumnal (love that word) changes I have decided it is time for a change to the Ye Olde Batt Blog..... I like the colours that I have chosen.

By the way...Reece is doing much better thank you very much....

Accident!

Poor Reece... she's had an awful night. We found my favorite poor wee lamb (the only white one that I got this year) under a gate which had fallen on her in the night. Who knows how long she was lying down with the heavy gate on her.... Worse, she's hurt! She has not been able to walk properly ever since we found her this morning. We plucked the offending gate off her wee limp body and at first I thought she was a goner, but we were able to see that she wasn't bleeding a lot and that the bit of blood staining her wool was from her struggle to get the gate off her and she had been rubbing and abrading her skin a lot. Then she couldn't stand up and was not able to hold her head upright and I still thought she was a goner. Hubby checked her over and thought she might have a dislocated front shoulder.... I'm not so sure. We tried standing her up and at first she wasn't able to bare her own weight and her knees kept buckling under her. But eventually she was able to get up and move around a bit She has been up on her feet and baring weight on all of her legs so I don't think she could walk with a dislocated shoulder. She stumbles a bit but as the morning is going on she seems to be getting stronger. I don't think that would be happening if she was badly hurt. We have separated her from the other sheep as I don't want her to get hurt or pushed around by the other sheep. Her legs seem to be getting stronger and I am hoping that she is just sore and a little stiff with maybe some muscle injuries that will heal with time.... she will have to be watched closely though. She is lying down now in a temporary pen with lots of green grass, and is eating all the grass that she can reach from where she lies. I will continue to keep an eye on her and hopefully she will improve as the day goes on. We'll see.

Shawl

Two years ago when I was in EM's class for the Level 1 in the Master Spinner's program the instructor gave us a shawl pattern that was her own. We were challenged to go home and make one over the year and enter it in the following year's fashion show. I made one and promptly sold it. This is it...

It is the one on the left. Sorry it is not a better picture.

Anyway, I started right away knitting a new one and I decided this time I would use a stranded knitting technique and so it began. It has been an odyssey, I assure you, because even though it is still not finished, there is quite a story that ended yesterday... well,... sort of!

I have quite a bit of my shawl completed but not as much as I would like. This shawl, I feel is a real work of art. It all started when I was in Level 1 and tried on one of EM's shawls and felt that it was the drapiest and most lovely fitting shawl that I had ever tried on. I'm a big girl and finding things that fit nicely is often a challenge. (I get my biggness from my Dad!) So I can safely say that when I tried on that shawl, and it fit me so nicely, and it felt good and looked... well... great, I was enthusiastic to say the least.

I got right on it and did the Rainbow shawl in the above picture. Knit in a combination of Polwarth and alpaca, it was soft and lovely and sumptuous. But it also was pretty simple. I had knit some rovings that I had purchased from Rovings in Manitoba that were already varigated and spun it all single ply then I spun brown alpaca and in singles and plied the two singles together to get a nice two ply yarn that kept the look of the varigated wool rovings. I called it the Rainbow Shawl. However, I now wanted more of a challenge and so I embarked upon a new shawl in the same pattern but with a different take on it. I decided to knit a Fair Isle style shawl using the same increases so it would have the same drapey feel and using purple and white as the basis for my colour combinations.

I started in right away because I had some lovely purple and white yarn already spun and though I knew it wouldn't be enough to complete the shawl I thought I would be able to spin and knit at the same time. I knit about 18 inches when I ran into problems. Up to that point I had been knitting and changing my Fair Isle style every ten to twenty rows. It was looking lovely and I was pleased with it but I wanted more of a challenge. That's when I started to go through my old knitting magazines.

I have been a collector of Vogue Knitting magazines since back in the eighties when Vogue Knitting was still quite new. I keep them because many of the patterns are classic, adaptable, and clear. Vogue does a very nice job of printing patterns that anyone can use. I think it is by far the best knitting magazine on the market. And believe me when I say I have tried a lot over the years. Not even Interweave Knits comes close and that is saying something because Interweave Knits is awesome.

Anyway I digress.... In the
1990-91 winter edition of Vogue Knitting magazine there is a sweater pattern by Perry Ellis (remember him???) that has a divine city skyline in a two stranded pattern that I have always thought I would incorporate into something that I knit. It is lovely.

So back to the shawl.... I came up with the idea of incorporating that city skyline into my purple and white shawl. I went looking through my stacks of knitting magazines which at that time I kept in my bedroom. I found it after much perusing and getting sidetracked by other divine patterns that I had forgotten about. I then laid it on the headboard of my bed and promptly forgot about it because I went off to do something else..... have you ever done that? Yes... I thought so.

A few days later when I had time for knitting I went to get the magazine which I had laid on my headboard.... (it is a bookcase headboard) that's when all hell broke loose. The magazine was gone. Now my house is ruled by the goddess Chaos, and losing something is not the end of the world.... usually a few days later it turns up in another most obvious place. (Remember Hubby's truck key that I lost after returning from Olds last month..... we never found it but we did find the set of house, car, school, and other keys that he lost two years ago!!!) see what I mean. Eventually, things turn up. But this was a horror because I wanted to knit that pattern and I wanted to knit that pattern NOW!

Well I didn't knit that pattern and all year through the Level 2 (last year) the shawl languished in my knitting bag collecting dust. Every so often I would pick up the knitting bag and think, I should just get on with it.... I don't have to knit a cityscape on this shawl... I can knit anything. but that cityscape haunted me and I knew I would regret not knitting the cityscape of my dreams into that shawl. I turned the house upside down looking for my Vogue Knitting magazine with my cityscape pattern..... I pulled out my bed and looked under it. (This is no small task since it weighs an elephant!) But I did not find that magazine.

Spring came and the infamous reno began... we cleared the top story of the house and still there was no sign of the magazine. I lost hope. This time I really had lost something. I could only think that it got picked up with other papers and went out in the recycling.... I even emailed Vogue to see if I could get a copy of the old pattern... they didn't respond (they need to beef up their customer service if they want it to be as good as the magazine is)! By this time I had begun to despair if I would ever knit my cityscape. I lost hope. I was defeated..... well... not quite. I just needed some graph paper and a pencil and I would do my own cityscape.... but it wouldn't have a bridge alight with faerie lights.... and it wouldn't be... well... just perfect.... (sigh)!

I didn't have the heart I'm afraid, to come up with my own cityscape, and so I thought that maybe I should just carry on in Fair Isle x's and o's, drifting from one pattern to the next. I got out my Fair Isle patterns and my graph paper but there it sat not being enthused over.

Yesterday, I decided to clean the living room... I mean clean it really good. Under the steps are a set of cabinets that can be moved and manipulated into many shapes and sizes. They can be stacked, or put side by side. They can be separated and moved to any part of the room. We keep catalogues and books and liquor and gift wrap in these cabinets. I hadn't cleaned out the catalugues in over a year and so the task lay on my shoulders to go through the catalogues and get rid of everything out of date. I started in and was surprised to discover that Hubby had been shoving my Spin-off magazines in those cabinets..... and among it was... low and behold.... Vogue Knitting from winter 1990-91 Perry Ellis Cityscape pattern #19... woo hoo!!

Shawl here I come!

What Makes You Feel It Is Good To Be Alive

It is 4:30 a.m. and I can't get back to sleep. Our dog, the chicken herder which just happens to be a Shi-tzu, woke me up with a kiss about a half hour ago because he was thirsty and wanted to go out. I forgot to fill the water dish before I went to bed and so our other dog, the big one drank all the remaining water and left none for the little dog. I couldn't get back to sleep and so I started thinking about why it is good to be alive. Here is what I think....

It is good to be alive...
when you smell the rich brown smell of the soil after the first real spring rain and the trees are starting to grow and the grass is starting to grow and the air is warm with the richness of life. Some call that ozone.... I call it creation.

It is good to be alive...
when you see the sparkles of the sun on water as it flashes and wavers with the movement of the earth and the air.

It is good to be alive...
when you wake in the morning with the soft warmth of a puppy dog kiss on your forehead, and then with a snuffle and a sigh the puppy snuggles into your body and you both go back to sleep.

It is good to be alive...
when you walk through the forest and you hear the crunch of the leaves beneath your feet and you smell the ripe smell of berries fermenting from the first frost of fall. Colour surrounds you with rich oranges, browns, and golds and you see your breath for the first time that year.

It is good to be alive...
when you feel the swell of the ocean and the thump, thump, thump, of the engine, beneath your feet as the boat you are on rises and falls on the tide that is bigger than any living thing but feels alive beneath you.

It is good to be alive...
when you open the door to go out and the sun is shining on the frozen air and there are millions of crystals surrounding you that sparkle like magic faerie dust.

It is good to be alive..
when you walk into an empty church and the silence is profound.

It is good to be alive....
when you smell a baby in your arms and they are clean and soft and fresh and new.

It is good to be alive..
when the first buds of the trees pop open and there is that beautiful chartreuse of spring in the air.

It is good to be alive....
when you hear the pretty voices of the birds when they start calling to their mates singing spring into being.

It is good to be alive....
when you hold the hand of your grandfather.

It is good to be alive....
when you lie on a trampoline with your children and stare at the clouds and listen to them talking about the shapes that they see.

It is good to be alive...
when you look at your husband (or wife) and know that the last twenty years feel like it has only been a year or two and you want the next twenty or more to slow down.

It is good to be alive...
when you know that growing old with this man (or woman) is what you want to do with the rest of your life.

It is good to be alive....
when your children give you a hug.... just because.

It is good to be alive...
with steaming hot chocolate in a mug, watching snow fall softly outside your window, blanketing everything in undulating white.

It is good to be alive...
when a butterfly lands on your arm and you don't breath because you don't want it to fly away, and when it does you feel privileged because you have been chosen over the beauty of a nodding flower.

It is good to be alive....
kissing in the pouring down rain.

It is good to be alive....
when you fall asleep at dusk in your lawn chair and wake up to the crystal white of the moon shining on you and your book is still in your lap and you don't feel cold because someone wrapped a blanket around you while you slept.

It is good to be alive...
when you haven't seen someone for a long time but the warm camaraderie of good friendship prevails through warm hugs, friendly chat, and happy silences.

It is good to be alive...
when the sun turns early morning fog yellow and the dew is heavy on the grass and sparkles brilliantly.

It is good to be alive...
when the crackle of the fire you just lit is magnetic and you want to watch the flames all night long.

It is good to be alive...
when the sun, low on the horizon, turns the tops of the trees pink, while everything else lays in the shadow of the earth.

It is good to be alive....
when you wake up with an arm and a knee slung over your body and you feel a bit like a Christmas present... all wrapped in love.

It is good to be alive...
when you have just read a good book or watched a good movie... and you wish it could go on for a just a little while longer.

It is good to be alive....
when your Dad hands you a twenty and says, "spend it on yourself," and you are 40 years old.

It is good to be alive....
when a bubble gum bubble pops and you have to spend twenty minutes washing it off your glasses.

It is good to be alive...
when you drive down a country road in a convertible and the poplar leaves that have fallen onto the road because it is autumn, swirl in the wake you create as you drive by.

It is good to be alive...
when you walk along a beach for miles and miles and then when you have gone a long way you turn around and see your footprints stretching out behind you.

It is good to be alive...
and write your name in the sand and watch it wash away with the next wave.

It is good to be alive...
and smell roses, or lilacs.

It is good to be alive....
and taste homemade bread still warm and fresh from the oven, smothered in butter.

It is good to be alive...
when you wake at night and hear the cry of coyotes (wolves too) a long way off but close enough to be thrilling.

It is good to be alive....
when an owl swoops past you and the only reason you see it is because you happened to notice movement out of the corner of your eye... but you didn't hear a thing.

It is good to be alive....
when you buy something leather and it has that new leather smell.... like a new car.... or a new leather coat.

It is good to be alive...
when you finish something you have worked on a long time and you are happy with it.

It is good to be alive...
when you crawl into bed a night and your back sighs with relief after a long day of hard work.

It is good to be alive...
when you remember all the times you had a really good belly laugh.... and you want to laugh till you cry again.

It is good to be alive...
when you write about 40 things that make you feel good to be alive and you have only just scratched the surface.

It is good to be alive...
when you go back to bed after you have been up early in the morning and the bed feels warm and comfortable and welcoming.

Bye bye!

Waldo

I've decided to name my spider.....

I just can't throw him out. He has become my friend. Waldo it is.... it doesn't matter if it is a female which it probably is but I'm naming him her Waldo.

We've been chinked! There is now chinking in the office/studio. TC arrived yesterday with TCH in tow and proceeded to chink the logs and leave in no time flat. Done! Finito! Like that was quick! Now the office and studio will retain heat while keeping bugs and mice out... o u t out! We have a monster spider gobbling flies in my studio.... I'm going to give him a few more days and then I will transport him to the garden where he can join the rest of the spiders scarfing down yummy flies and avoiding being eaten themselves.

Meanwhile, yesterday, Hubby finished the plumbing for the upstairs vanity and I proceeded to put the trim around the window in the downstairs bathroom. I also put up a shelf and finished the framing for the door in the bathroom. Hubby and I have decided that the door that we were going to use opens the wrong way and so, without him here to say yay or nay I am going to build a false wall to accommodate a pocket door we will lose 4 inches of our bathroom but that is ok..... at least I think so. If I get that done over the weekend then I will start finishing the front of the pantry and I might even enlist the kids to help me with the paneling in the upstairs bathroom. This all "on my own" while Hubby enjoys another weekend of fishing.... (can you tell that I am starting to get a little miffed about Hubby being away again?....)!

There goes a chicken..... what are they up to again??? Hmmm....

Anyway... where was I... oh yes.... As a woman, I do not work on carpentry without the aid of devices that I can handle with my weak hands. So I cut all boards with a jig saw because I can't handle Hubby's circular saw because I would cut off my foot. (I'm already missing one thumb I would like to keep the other!) I could use a chop saw but I don't own one and what is the point... I can cut as straight a line with a jig on short distances as a chop saw does anyway. I wish I had a table saw for long cuts... the jig is not so great for that, but I am getting better and there is always a rasp to whittle away the bad spots. My biggest problem is that my measuring sucks. I measure say 36 1/2 inches when really it works out to be 36 1/4 inches which means that I have to go back and cut a little more off every time.... that's a pain. But at least I always measure too long and not too short.... which is Hubby's problem.... then he has a spoiled board...... ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Women rule! (I'm not really that maniacal! Really!!)

I think the biggest thing for me now with this renovation is that I am having serious fibre withdrawal symptoms..... it's been a while since I've have been able to find time to spin. I was working on some thick cabled yarn and was really excited until I ran into a glitch or two. But that is for another blog. I really want to sit on the deck and get some spinning done instead of banging and hammering away at stuff that I wish were done. Oh well, I guess I should be glad that we are making progress at all. I don't really want to sound displeased or never satisfied.... when I stop to look around at everything that has been done I'm really pleased, but I do long to get back at my fibre addiction. I guess all in good time.

It is turning into a fine day. I think some people had frost last night in our region. If so then that would be the first frost of the year. My thermometre was reading 3 degrees this morning when I got up at 6:30 a.m. so that was pretty close to freezing. Ouch! Still though the fog is burning off and I expect it will be quite nice later this morning. This suits me since it will be cool enough to work without dying from heat..... I guess I should procrastinate no more and get to my false wall. I'll let you know how that goes!

Here is a pic of the pantry so far.... still need to finish the framing on the front and put in the doors...

Covert Operations

You have read here before that we have a lot of early morning fog. You have also read here that we have an uneasy relationship with our chickens. You have also read here that I am an early riser. Put that together and you have.... I'm not sure.... a rug?

It's all very confusing but I think our chickens are up to something..... I mean like planting dynamite under our house..... or spying on human behaviour for aliens or something. Lately (since the bear attacked the chicken coop and broke down the fence that Hubby hasn't had time to repair because he is too busy working on plumbing) the chickens have been entering our territory. But not just coming up toward the house and checking out the joint but they have been acting suspiciously. This morning the chickens were up by the house when I looked out the window upstairs at 6:30 a.m. They were pecking the ground and obviously intent upon getting grit for their gizzards... or so I thought. When I came downstairs a few minutes later they were scurrying off down the path to the chicken coop. Now I know that they know I don't like them up around the house (they poop on the deck which gives me no small amount of misery)
This is chicken poop too close to my deck steps.


because I have thrown rocks at them when I catch them around the steps. I also know they know that I don't want them under the deck because they peck the styrofoam insulation which is just under the ground and wraps our crawl space and insulates it from the cold weather in the winter. (Yes chickens love styrofoam insulation..... in their gizzards!) But as soon as they hear me or see me they bee line it for the chicken coop and I know.... just know they are up to something!

Their little heads are popping above the grass turning this way and that way watching through the early morning fog, and they seem to be watching all the time for something that might come and attack them. Now what on earth could they be watching for?! Certainly not me (who likes to throw rocks at them to keep them away from the deck), and certainly not Tootsie (who is the most brilliant chicken herding dog you have ever seen), and certainly not Hubby (who steals their eggs each day), and certainly not Daughter #2 (who steals their friends away to another chicken coop to be saved from the axe... but they don't know that), and I doubt very much that it's the coyotes (that they can hide from in their really sturdy chicken coop) This is the sturdy chicken coop
and certainly not bears (that attack sporadically like the one earlier this summer)..... nooooo they can't be nervous about these things. What could possibly happen to them. I mean what do they think.... that they are going to get eaten?

And that noise they make when they lay their eggs.... I mean what's that all about? I'm sure they are making it look like the egg coming out of their wee butts is hurting when really what they are doing is practicing some kind of drill. They run away every time you go near them and their territory (which is the bush that grows around their chicken coop) looks like it is a mine field. There are scratch marks all over the place. I think they are planting mines and making it look like they are scratching for worms...... I'm sure they are up to no good!

So the thing is, with all this suspicious behaviour on the part of the chickens, why oh why did I choose chickens to be on my first hooked rug??? I have finally started hooking the rug that I bought while I was in Olds for the Level 3 of the Master Spinners course and so I chose chickens!!!!! I can't believe I did that. What on earth was I thinking? With all the subject material in the world that I could have chosen I can't believe I chose chickens. But I did....

Here's my chicken rug so far...



Here's what it should look like when done.....




I still think they are up to no good..... I'm just not going to tell them that I'm hooking a chicken rug... and let them get the last laugh... no way!