Bread, salt, olives, socks, rain, your basic Sunday

This morning with rain in the forecast, I glumly decided I'd better make bread, since I was totally out. No toast, nothing to make a sandwich or cheese toast, nothing to hold up my sardines, this wasn't right.

I wasn't in the mood at all, but as usual once underway I wondered what the fuss was about. My bread is no knead, easy to make.

Anyway I did, and here's the rather small cast of characters needed

to make a large loaf which I quarter into four medium loaves, three in the freezer.

I didn't have my favorite whole-wheat, so I went with bread flour and ap, and added in ground flaxseed, the usual vital wheat gluten, that's in the can marked chocolate fingers or something, salt, need to order, yeast, need to order, and for a savory touch, sliced green olives.

Quite a nice crumb and a good crust, crisp not tough. Not bad for an experiment, since I didn't know about the vital wheat gluten and how it works with bread flour. Okay, it turns out. The olives almost disappeared but there's a mild savory effect. I've been meaning to try them for ages.

Then I finished the socks, in yarn which the donor tells me is probably hand wash, so they're for me. I do need some anyway.

And I ordered various vital items, salt, etc.    The whole wheat flour is harder to come by, but it's ordered and I'm not in desperate need. 

Now I need to get packing small artworks to send to friends. Not a favorite activity but, like bread, you're glad you did it.

Happy day everyone, rainy here and my chives and honesty are happy, gentle rain is what they can use right now. I'm impatient to get seeds going, but last year what with surgery and rehab, I didn't get seeds in till late May and still had a nice showing. 

So you never know, late is okay.

Textiles and tea, socks and boundaries

 Yesterday's presenter is a dyer and weaver who works in ikat, where she paints or dyes the threads ahead of weaving, to create interesting shapes and pools of patterns. There were big technical problems, losing her repeatedly, so they had to salvage what they could, and here's the result. Still pretty good.

She started out wanting to make wall art but has been drawn into wearable clothes. But her work with words, in the piece with sayings from a large number of religions, and symbols of peace and unity,  the landscapes, and that group work, are all wall hangings.

The long gallery piece is a communal schoolwide work, where every student,  teacher and staff worker was invited to add a piece of work, using strips of textiles they brought in, meaningful to them. The blue markers indexed,  to help them find their own contribution, in a work over twenty feet long.

She started in the seventies, with a very subdued natural color range, but burst out into color later, as you see.  Weaving blogistas, have you tried ikat, or fancied it?

Meanwhile back in the sock world, the first sock for me is done. 

Rose, I think this is yarn you gave me. It knits up nicely, very friendly.  As you see, I used different color for heel and cuff, because I'm not sure how far the main color will go. They're going to be great to wear.

November is full of memories for me, aside from the general memories of family and war dead, because it has birthdays of two sisters and my parents'  wedding anniversary.

If the sisters had observed and respected my boundaries better, if my parents had dealt with their bullying better, my life would have worked better. Just a gentle reminder to older sibs who wonder why younger ones have become distant. Sometimes they can't protect themselves till they're adults, or you've left the family home. Then they're not in touch any more. But it's not too late to get in contact gently, and try again, on a different footing. 

One of my sisters did, in very old age, and said she didn't know what to do other than feel guilty. It didn't occur to her to say she was sorry. And I knew that would bring on a burst of rage if I mentioned it. But I accepted this was the best she could do. No point in pushing for what another person can't do. I think this is true of friends, too, when they let you down. They're probably doing their best.

Odd how this continues to be important even into old age and survival. But now in my turn,  I'm observing other people's boundaries with care. 

Happy day, everyone! How do you feel about boundaries, yours and other people's? No need to answer this question if it crosses your boundaries!

The Maid, Easter and socks

 Newest reading, for a library book club I'm thinking of joining

I just began it, and it's very readable, from the viewpoint of a young woman who works as a chambermaid in a hotel, a job she loves. 

She's very bright, but very literal, probably on the spectrum, and loves the satisfaction of cleaning, much easier than dealing with people, who find her weird. 

She discovers a hotel guest dead, and I'm rapidly reading on, to find out whether she blunders into being accused, my fear. 

Meanwhile, Easter is almost here, and the Dish of Easter Observance is out, most of the eggs painted by me over the years.

These tiny eggs are from my late great cockatiel, Emily Hope, which I also decorated.  They're in a miniature sample Wedgwood cup and saucer.

White Boehm bunny with a cast iron cat from Williamsburg, a wooden duckling and Limoges egg shaped boxes.

Eggs displayed on an antique Trenton Potteries spongeware platter.

This is the whole of the Easter decoration. Minimalist.

And spring's here

Gary's weeping cherry

My daffodils both sides of the walkway

Daffodils blooming in turn by variety, to lengthen the season.

In anticipation of the heddle's arriving, it's been shipped, I finished up my socks

Wearing them right now. They're the same length but one foot's nearer, so that sock looks longer.

And I went to YouTube to review backstrap weaving. I know the principle, in fact I've done it, but I needed a reminder about how best to attach the warp to myself.

This is a style of weaving where one end of the warp is attached at a fixed point, the other to the waist of the weaver. Ancient south and central American art form. They sit on the ground, tie the long warp threads to a tree at one end, to their belt at the other.

 You have to attach the warp ends to yourself using a belt, and you need to allow for advancing the woven section, like rolling it over the cloth beam on a loom, so as to keep the working area within reach.  This is not stuff you can just guess.

Most of the videos ignored this vital part, just going on about warping, threading the heddle, some not even mentioning attaching it. One person said,oh, just tie to your belt. Not useful. I really wonder if they're trying to teach or just demonstrate their own skills, but I'm not bitter. I did eventually figure it out. So I'm ready. Again!

Handsome Son is visiting this afternoon, great timing to get a large buttered, toasted hot cross bun, which he doesn't know about yet.

And I've started a very nice puzzle I'm liking

Yesterday's winnowing, no pictures, was a lot of fun. I took puzzles in to add to our library's lending collection, which were very happily received, the librarian doing a little happy dance! 

And she showed me,  on her phone, pictures of the Farmer's Market puzzle you saw here, which I donated, and was last week's public puzzle. Evidently it went over well. It's now back in the collection to lend out.

I was juggling sunglasses, mask, bag and puzzles and couldn't get at my phone when I remembered pictures, oh well.

So that's us today, off to put the kettle on for Handsome Son's tea.

Happy day everyone, weave on, read on, munch hot cross buns, your choice. Or all at once. 

Maybe I'll goof off today then

 Beautiful rainy cool morning

Good day for reading, knitting, traipsing about wondering what to do.

Yesterday was a maelstrom of activity

Tomatoes collected and and ripening, need another windowsill

I finished the sock heels, here's a clean pair of heels, so to speak

And I now have a completed vest, seen here with the pink top that used to be a dress I never wore

It's a pleasure handling that soft old denim and the sari silk.  And the vest slips on so smoothly. Lining for the win.

I did finish the Fethering audiobook while I was knitting and sewing. 

In the evening, comfort food, here pink blancmange, because I needed a little something

Marie's great explanation of the difference between viceroy and monarch butterflies over on her Island Musings blog (go there for wonderful wildlife photography and knowledgeable nature observations, from Prince Edward Island) set me off on a tangent, why are you not surprised.

It's this: what hierarchy-crazed lepidopterists ran about naming butterflies for monarchs, red admirals, viceroys, and moths for emperors? What equally crazed grammarian named the comma butterfly? Were they rewarding their benefactors who financed the expeditions maybe?

And what about the naturalists who angrily named beautiful plants lousewort, scabious, henbit, hogweed? Were they mad because all the grant money went to butterfly people flittting about with nets pretending to be Nabokov?  I only ask. Because that's how my frivolous mind works when I have no one to talk to.

Happy day everyone. Try to be silly, it's good for you and entertains the neighbors.

Upcycling for socks

I knitted quite a few pairs of socks for me and others a while back.  Some I liked so much that I wore out the heels

what with all the walking I do, and these were too nice to scrap, and no fun walking in repaired heels, so I decided to upcycle them.


And here you see one of my new fingerless gloves on my gnarly old hand

and naturally the Dollivers wanted in on this

and two of them got new ski hats, which used to be sock toes, despite the pouring rain going on, because they figure sooner or later there'll be snow and skiing.

I warned them not to mention the new hats to the others, since I don't want to have to upcycle three more socks..