I will be stepping away for the rest of the week – off for a bit of respite and belly laughs, I hope. I’ve got lots in the hopper for next week, so I look forward to seeing you then! And, for the second week in a row, no Rumpelstiltskin Challenge Report. I’ve got nothing. How about you? Don’t forget to keep posting your pics on the group page. (I have to remind myself) It’s almost time for a new theme…
This is not now, nor will ever be, a political blog. It is, however, a parenting blog, in addition to the farmy, crafty, things I throw your way several times a week. As a parent, (of a child in public school) I’ve had a Teachable Moment in my own back yard for the past week. Love it or hate it, this is Democracy. And we were there, in the thick of it. Late Monday afternoon, I bundled up the kids, packed the Ergo baby carrier, and headed to the capitol. The only ills we had to contend with were cold and light sleet; there were no rubber (or not) bullets and tear gas. The police, stationed on the perimeters everywhere, were there to ensure everyone’s safety, not to snuff out voices. It was a rare opportunity to consciously not take this hard-fought right for granted, when all over the world others are paying so much more than a measly $1.35 (to park) for the same opportunity. What a time this is in the world right now.
We’ve been talking about the historic activity in Madison all week. I tried to explain the situation in as objective a manner as possible, not looking to add another radical to the mix, but trying to, as best as I could, explain what each side was trying to do. I gave a watered down example of going to the grocery store and only being able to buy some of the things we need. I explained how lots of people might get, instead of their usual 100 cents, say, only 80. I also explained that lots of people have been getting far less money than normal all over the place, for a while now, because it’s a really tough time that we’re in. She easily counts to 100, and while she seemed to clearly grasp the simple overall concept of what was going on, she really fixated on these 80 versus 100 cents. (which you will soon see) We watched some videos online of what was going on, and she’s been hearing about it on public radio news all week. Today we went to see for ourselves.
I asked her if she wanted to make a sign, like those she had seen in the online news. “Yes! I know just what to write!” she said. In a flash, she had written this:
we wont to wrk togothr (we want to work together)
then she added, to the end
to git muny (to get money)
and then, a few minutes later, “snuck” this in, as she told me proudly
wee ned to hav 100 cons (we need to have 100 cents)
The little sign, securely taped to a paint stick, was no match for the wind and the sleet; it quickly flopped over and danced as she held it high. Sometimes Democracy is cold and uncomfortable and maybe even a bit disappointing. “Next time there’s a bad decision,” she said, “I will use cardboard.” And that was the quote of the night. I certainly don’t plan on making a habit out of this (certainly hope I don’t need to) but it’s nice to think we’ll be better prepared. Hee hee. This girl. She’s sheltered from so much, not having a tv, but she knows the name of her governor. It was quite the learning experience.
I’ve been looking forward to this moment for years, and it snuck up on me almost by surprise. I had been patiently waiting for Isadora to turn 5 so that I could start teaching her how to sew, and then it happened and I forgot all about the sewing. No matter – she had her first lesson a couple of weeks ago. How do you begin to teach a 5-year-old the skill of sewing? I wondered. We started slow, and with a minimal understanding of the components. “The most important thing to remember,” I told her, “is that it should really be called Pinning and Ironing instead of Sewing, because those are what we do the most of.” It’s what I would tell anyone just learning to sew, one of the disappointing realizations that hit me like a brick as a young girl learning to sew from my Grandma. We all want to sit down at the machine and make it fly, don’t we?
We began the sewing introduction with a project for her brother – a cowboy-themed pillowcase to go with the new Big Boy Bed he’ll be getting for his birthday in a few months. With this, I’m hoping that she can master the concept I’m still struggling with – allowing ample time. I’m also hoping to share with her the gentle, but omnipresent guidance of Grandma, who taught me impeccable craftsmanship and that the insides of what you’re sewing should look as nice as the outside. With every single thing I sew, Grandma sits on my shoulder, like a cartoon angel, overseeing all that I make and pushing me to be a better sewist. In real life, she laughs at this image I have of her, but I’d guess she is proud of her student and satisfied that the lessons have sunk in. While she doesn’t do much sewing herself these days, I think she can rest assured that the next couple of generations will do her proud.
I totally freaked out. I think I may have been the only person in the Northern Hemisphere to react in this manner to our present thaw. Sunday saw the thermometer spike somewhere in the 50s. Monday was slightly cooler, very windy, but still well above freezing, as was yesterday. Today will be warmer yet, with temps looking to shoot even higher tomorrow. Instead of rejoicing like every other individual residing in a 5- zipcode, I felt the cold sweat of panic set in. Spring, already? I’m NOT READY!
To fully understand just how ridiculous this all is, I should mention that I spent the entire weekend trudging through nearly 2 feet of snow. Literally trudging, I mean, the kind that requires boots and a change of pants and socks upon exiting the snow. I had flown the coop for some Northwoods fresh air and solitude and was greeted by mountains of unplowed snow blocking the path from my car to the cottage. It was a true wilderness adventure – rustic and amidst-the-elements and all that, at least until I made it to the back door and into the welcoming arms of modern conveniences like heat and electricity.
Of course Spring is not here – it’s all just a false alarm, but the panic hit nonetheless. Reading on Monday that SouleMama had already ordered their chicks and bees (we’re jumping in this year and getting bees too!) I felt (irrationally) that I had completely missed the boat. More than anything else, though, was the panic I felt about running out of time to knit. I had no less than 3 cardigans in the works, one almost completed (now done – see pic above!), an overdue scarf-as-birthday-present which was growing more obsolete by the second (also done – top pic!) and an otherwise stuffed knitting bag full of projects that require cold temps to justify their existence. Not to mention that knitting will be the furthest thing from my mind once the ground becomes workable and the lambs start popping out of their wooly enclosures. SLOW DOWN SPRING!
I could be shot for saying something so ridiculous in this clime. I know it. And I, too, love Spring and the excitement of hearing the birds resume their chatter. (except for that infernal crow out there right now- can it, Squawky!) They are a surprise to me every time – winter makes me forget how integral they are to my soundtrack. I love the paradigms of New Life and Fresh & Clean and Emergence. (though I’m learning that Spring in the barnyard has nothing to do with CLEAN and everything to do with MUD) But I love Winter too – I have not yet gotten my fill of the sleepy quiet, the slow, the easy-does-it planning and dreaming and hibernating in the dark. You’re on deck, Spring, and that’s great, but you need to wait. your. turn.
I'm starting to look a bit rough, eh?
All this furious, panic-stricken knitting has heave-ho’d a few things out of the nest and off into the world…of my shoulders and head, mostly. And now, if you’ll permit me….I would have finished this hat already if I hadn’t forced myself to sit down and type all this out. Good day.
- dried organic elderberries -
While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend waiting till the snot runs to make yourself a batch of Echinacea Elderberry Syrup, I have to believe the urgent, very immediate necessity of said syrup combines with the healing essences of the herbs to make a more potent, thereby effective herbal concoction. Well, that’s my hope at least.
Last week was one of those weeks we crawled out of rather scraped-up and bruised. Not literally, thank goodness, but emotionally and otherwise. One of the culprits for the weary-making - a wallop of a cold that hit a few of us over the head with a mallet. It was the classic scenario in which I would normally turn to my refrigerated stash of herbal support syrups. Given that most cold remedies have been pulled off the market for wee snotty ones due to gross misuse, ineffectiveness, and fatalities, there really aren’t many alternatives to pulling your own ‘alternative’ off the shelf. That is, if you’ve had the presence of mind to get in on the shelf before the storm hits.
We didn’t, as you can clearly see, nor was my last batch back-filled. Fortunately, the process of making an herbal syrup is, like the remedy itself, gentle enough to undertake even amidst a constant stream of mucous flooding your workspace. Ahem. Pardon the visual there. Since we were lucky enough to have two clean saucepans at the ready, we decided to made two different syrups. We use Echinacea Elderberry Syrup for general immune support and for fevers, when we think of it. We also put together a Cough Syrup containing a blend of herbs I’ve been tweaking for several cold seasons now. The addition of honey makes it all palatable and the minuscule addition of brandy helps it gain some shelf-life. Almost all of this can be accomplished with a copy of Rosemary Gladstar’s Herbal Recipes for Vibrant Health, which looks to me to be the updated version of her Family Herbal that I have on my own shelves. Good quality, reliable herbs can be found many places, including Mountain Rose Herbs. May this scourge pass you by.
All of this week’s conquests were completed during the lovely meandering I took in and out of the studio last weekend. It was carefree and slow-paced, moving about a myriad of projects, flitting about as I chose. It’s my favorite kind of weekend. I whipped out these linen blend napkins, just in time to use them a bit before they become seasonally obsolete. (Thanks, Anie, for the trim fabric!)
Before.
I was able to divorce my rag-tag, ratty, embarrassing-excuse-for-a-purse after modifying this lovely mustard bag to fit my Momma needs. This is a fancy way of saying I trashed my stupid old purse and set about making this one messenger-style. I don’t know how you multi-taskers do it with those cute shoulder or (gasp) clutch bags, but I need every hand/arm I have, and then some, to schlep the kids or groceries or what-have-you around and I can’t be bothered to keep a purse perched securely on my shoulders. Maybe I’m deformed? Whatever the case, a messenger bag is what I require. When I came upon this mustard bag a few months ago, I shrieked (what IS IT with me and mustard lately?!) then felt all my happiness deflate when I noticed the conspicuous lack of a long shoulder strap. Moments later, I came upon another thrifty leather bag, WITH the trusty long strap and hatched the plan to graft the two. The mad-scientist splicing and conjoining and fabric gluing and evil cackling commenced this weekend and I now have a bag that smartly matches my mittens. Mustard, indeed. Now to find the mustard shoes to complete the ensemble…
After!
And thanks to the magic of Pinterest, I was connected with this fabulous scalloping tutorial that perfectly fit the vision I had for updating this wool skirt.
Looking forward to seeing what you’ve all been up to in the past week!
It was some time last year that I first heard Isadora refer to her brother as “Errol Witchard.” I, of course, did a double take upon hearing it; his actual middle is not even remotely close to “Witchard” nor could it in any way be misconstrued as such. A bit sheepishly, she asked if it was okay to call him that. “Sure!” I said, confused but amused. A few days later, it clicked and I realized that she had gotten it from a mispronunciation of Errol’s full name as he was being called into the doctor’s office. Our last name, mispronounced and skewed by creative 5yr ears, does actually sound a bit like “Witchard.” Whatever the origin, the name’s stuck and become something of a naughty name.
We’ve started to see Witchard as something of an alter-ego for this guy. Witchard is a bit of an imp – he has a wrinkle at the top of his nose, crinkly eyes ablaze with mischief, and is LOUD. Witchard has chosen the rough time frame of Time To Make Dinner as the daily period in which he engages in his wild rumpus. So notorious in these parts is this rumpus, that it has been dubbed The Witchard Hour, akin to the crabby ‘witching’ hour that many of our little ones are prone to. Er-ROL WITCH-ard! is what we yell when he has sprinkled the contents of the salt jar on the floor, or spilled his water glass for the 8th consecutive dinner in a row, or steals the crayons away from his big sister. He’s a DICKENS, that Witchard.
Errol, on the other hand, is the little boy you’ve all come to know through this blog. He’s cuddly, sweet, and carefully pets his doggies and kitties. He listens pretty well, per the constraints of his age, and displays fantastic small motor skills. He loves to help and is trying his hand at potty training. He is notably interested in animals of all kinds – he lights up like a lightbulb, in fact, whenever he spots an animal of some kind entering his world. (lucky for him we have a few around, with plans of adding even more) And this boy loves music! Among his favorites are The Magnolia Sisters, The Decemberists, Tom Waits, and Zip Wilson (of square dance fame). He breaks into dancing at the mere hint of lively music and is my regular dance partner for our weekly Simply Folk broadcast. Witchard is also a big fan of Zip Wilson, come to think of it. It’s one of our tricks for calming the rumpus out of him.
Get it? Let’s review.
Errol, clearly.
Also Errol, shown here wearing wool socks for mittens. Anyone know where I can find a good mitten pattern? Oh, crap. Nevermind. Another case of the shoemaker’s kids going without shoes…
Definitely Witchard.
I guess we all have a little Witchard in us, don’t we?
I’m referring, of course, to the thrifty hero of Joseph Had an Overcoat by Simms Taback, which we’ve been reading and watching quite a bit lately. While we’re not quite ready to cut our coats into vests, we are starting to accumulate whimsical little patches that adorn our work clothes like medals of valor. Mending – I had almost forgotten all about it. Thrifting-the-new and purging-the-old has been our program for so long now that I’ve almost forgotten the importance of fixing what’s already ours. Almost, that is, until MayaMade featured a few Fix-It Friday segments on her blog that rocked my world. Maybe we hadn’t actually forgotten about the fix-it option; maybe we just hadn’t gotten there yet. Perhaps we’ve now arrived at the point of really liking our stuff, having traded out the less precious for the higher quality and beautiful things that surround us. Perhaps now we’re more attached to these things, more invested in keeping them with us, keeping them in working order. Perhaps we now have things that we actually use. Instead of running for the scissors to cut up and repurpose that which has become torn, I now consider the option of PATCHES. Oh, I love, love, love patches on things, especially vintage ones that someone long ago sewed by hand. They’re like beautiful little quilts, sprinkled on the surface of well-loved, (or at the very least well-used) clothing. They speak volumes: Here is a (shirt, pair of pants, bedsheet) that Works. Hard. A patch is a commitment to keep it working. Slowly, surely, we’re becoming more colorful as we go about our work on the Acres, as our gear becomes more authenticated.
This is a recent commission from my favorite lumberjack. I mercilessly cut squares out of an eerily-pressed-perfect pair of disgust-o never-wrinkle Dacron polyester slacks. We need no ‘plastic-y clothing-equivalent to the Twinkie’ pants, but that sturdy flatness shall keep the flannel from disintegrating. Ka-pow!
And this may be the best hand-me-down I’ve ever received - insulated Carhardt work bibs. They were replaced by a shiny new pair for the Mister and now I have my own. Now there is almost nothing I can’t do outside in the deep of winter. I am patiently awaiting the bequeathal of some magically-insulated rubber army boots that are starting to get a bit worn…then I will really be unstoppable. And fabulously glamorous in that utilitarian, farm-chic way.
Isadora received a pair of gently-used roller skates last year. It was one of those oh-crap-it’s-almost-her-birthday-what-are-we-going-to-get-her?! type scenarios, and I had just scored these at the Half-Pint semi-annual resale event, which is held, coincidentally, on the birthday weekends of both of my children. She immediately put them on and started skating around our kitchen and living room. When buying this house we did, of course, note the fantastic skating potential of the (scuffed) hardwood floors and the continuous loop one could skate throughout the first floor. Of course we did.
Since then, we’ve turned a blind eye to conventional floor stewardship and given her (almost) free reign to skate. Now we sit in amazement at the grace with which she turns (without holding on to anything! she points out) and moves about as if she’s been born on skates, and as if she’s not skating around a space otherwise used for eating and sitting and living, with roadblocks at nearly every turn.
It is in this spirit and also in the spirit of February’s Red theme for the Rumpelstiltskin Challenge that I upped the ante and added a red skate applique and matching trim to a skirt that I planned only to resize to fit the budding skater. It is a vintage-ish wool skirt (warm, warm, warm for the girl who would rather never wear pants at all) that I picked up in some thrifting adventure some time ago.
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There are some really great things popping up in the Flickr pool. Have you something to add? Ready to join us? It’s open enrollment and you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.
The loosely-bound theme for February’s edition of The Rumpelstiltskin Challenge is……………………………………….. wait for it ………….
Red!
I say “loosely bound” because it is, of course, only a helpful guiding impetus if you happen to need such a thing. If, say, you’re standing amid your stash and are overwhelmed and paralyzed by what’s before you and unable to start making, you may find such guidance liberating. I always find I’m able to work best if there are some parameters involved, if only to disregard them very carefully. For my own part, I’ll be continuing some of that low-hanging fruit, since I got tangled up in making Quilt Kits for the whole month of January, and my project shelves are nearly over-ripe with fruit. But it is February, after all, and I’m confident I can find something lovely in red to usher out, if only to set a good example as The Keeper of this Challenge.
How about you? Got red?
