catching up on my ABC's

I've slipped so far behind on my ABC along...ummm...where was I???  I think I left off with I is for Ice....

 

So, I continue on with J

 

 

J is for Jack- CW Black Jack...(son of Bay Colony Darth and CW Liebchen...)  He is a Joy to have, such a cuddler.  Show here in his early spring coat, right now he is enjoying a short clip and staying cool.  Jack was a gift from my husband, and he continues to give me beautiful  wool with each clipping.

 

K is for Krazy Horse...

 

 

Krazy Horse was a gift too....he is a cute little lop who needed a home.  He came to live at the riverrim late last winter.  I received him at the same time I received ..Lakota.

 

L is for Lakota

 

 

The name Lakota comes from the Lakota autonym, lakh�ta "feeling affection, friendly, united, allied".  She is a shy rabbit, who is just now coming into her name.  She is also enjoying a short clip for the heatwave.

 

 

no wonder they call this one "stargazer"....

 

 

beware the pollen from the stamens...it will stain your clothing, table cloth or skin...

 

 

finished the hat to go with the booties.  the pattern was a freebie found here...

 

And the yarn is the handspun I am still working on spinning up.  It is very soft.  The blend is finn/alpaca...should be soft enough for the baby...it was a pleasure to knit with!  I purchased the roving from my good friend.

bouncing bet, butter and eggs, bugloss and detours

 

Detour, as a noun: a roundabout way temporarily replacing part of a route...

 

 

There is a detour sign on the road nearby my house.  It is a daily reminder  of the flood ravaged roads, and in a metaphorical sort of way, it reflects the road that my life has taken.

 

 

Unforeseen circumstances usually cause a detour.  Sometimes you come upon them when you are least expecting it.  Most times, you have no choice but to follow the path that has been chosen for you, a road that you may never have been down before.  There is a bit of uncertainty associated with detours, especially the ones that take you along rural back roads and leave you looking for another sign, reassuring you that you are indeed on the correct route.

 

 

Detours can be frustrating too.  I don't think most of us come upon a detour and think, "oh joy! a detour!  just what I wanted to do today!"  I mean, after all, one minute you are on schedule...things are humming along at top speed, plans to meet your destination are right on time...and suddenly you need to make adjustments...accommodate new turns, scan new horizons...and not by choice.  Sometimes, there is not a map to refer to, and you are feeling lost.

 

 

Detours can require certain virtues, like patience (will this road never end?)...perseverance (are we going in circles?) fortitude (I think I can, I think I can) and forgiveness (there is no one to blame for the detour).  To my way of thinking, the best way to get through a detour, is to remember that the roundabout is merely temporary...(this too shall pass)...and try to get the most out of the experience.

 

 

On my detour, I try to take notice of things that I am familiar with.  I like knowing the names of the wildflowers that bloom alongside the road. I made a list of them the other day.  There was only one that I could not identify, and finally tagged as sweetclover.  Not a very pretty thing, but as it turns out it is very beneficial. It is only one of the surprises that I have discovered while taking my detour.

 

Here is my list:
Chicory
common mullein
vipers bugloss
butter and eggs
moth mullein
sweetclover
oxeye daisy
ironweed
bouncing bet
rosemallow
evening primrose
thistles
purple loosestrife
smartweed
fleabanes
milkweed
several species of vetch
daylily
sneezeweed
jewelweed
yarrow

broccoli and booties

 

 

I've been trying to pack and freeze some of the harvest...

 

 

how can you chop broccola-ah-ie and not think of this song?

 

 

meanwhile...I have finished a pair of booties that I have made for someone who is getting ready to have a baby.

 

Is it just me, or are my vegetables resembling the color of my yarn?  Maybe my yarn is resembling the color of my vegetables...

Beets, it's what's for dinner

 

These are cylinder beets...this season is the first time I have raised these beauties.  I had been reading about them, and figured it was time to give them a try.  I like them very much, and they seem to be a hit with the guys, so I will raise them again. 

 

The size is somewhat like that of a small Nantes carrot...the fingerling type...and they are quite tender throughout.  I decided to raise them because the description promised a tender beet, that would freeze or process well.  I do not have the time available to devote to canning these beets, but I will be freezing some because the crop is bumper baby!  Another plus...the tops make good eating when they are young.

 

My favorite way to eat beets is to roast them, but during this current heat wave, I will pass on turning the oven on.  We will have ours steamed.  Again.

 

 

I am almost ready to bind off this scarf that I have been working on.  It is from a 2 ply mohair blend, and is thick and cushy.  It has been a mindless knitting project that has been worked on during my recent time spent in waiting rooms for different appointments.  I has received many comments from people, but mostly, "how can you knit in the summer?".   I cannot imagine not knitting in the summer. I admit that I get motivated more to knit in the fall, but I cannot imagine stopping a project because it is summer and warm outside.

mid July

It is one of those hot and sticky type of days one gets along the river in mid July.  This morning there was dew on the grass, and a foggy haze promised heavy humidity for the coming afternoon. 

 

 

On my way to the garden I passed a brown-hooded owlet and a young fawn.  Neither one seemed to notice me.

 

 

The black hollyhocks are showing off, I had originally planted these to use in the dye pot...but have not had the time to try them out.

 

 

It's just as well, they are the star of the show in the garden these days.

 

As I pick a few blueberries for my breakfast, I am thinking about the days when I was young, and would go blueberry picking with my mother in the Pinebarrens.  She would help me tie a small bucket onto my waist so I would have two hands to pick with.  Most of the bushes were taller than I was, and I remember seeing many ripe berries that were far from reach.  Those berries from the pines were some of the best I have ever tasted.  I think about Elizabeth Coleman White, and her blueberry bushes.  I cannot look at a blueberry bush without thinking about her, and the thousands of cuttings that were taken from the pinebarrens to create new varieties of bushes.  I grow 4 bushes.

 

Still musing about the blueberries, I recall hearing a story my mother told me about when she was a visiting nurse. She once went to a home that was built on stilts in the middle of a field of blueberry bushes.  The house was very small, and square, with a porch all around it.  There was no electricity, the refrigerator and the lights were gas powered. There was a small table inside, covered with a table cloth.  In the center of the table, there was a mason jar  acting as a vase with a branch of the blueberry bush in bloom. I remember that story over and over again, and think of the simplicity and beauty that house must have had. I bet they ate lots of good pie. 

toadstool or mushroom?

The river looks so calm this morning, a different scene from a few weeks ago.

This tree wedged at the top of the bridge, is a tell-tale sign of just how high the water was.

I decided to take a walk along side the river rim today, thinking maybe I would find some interesting pieces of driftwood...but everything was washed downstream. The river left few treasures to be found along my rim.  I did find a big piece of plastic something or other that was wrapped around the River Birch Tree.

I looked up over my head, and saw bits of flotsam.  The flotsam made me realize that where I was standing I would have been well underwater during the flood.

I looked down at my feet and wondered if some of the rocks had cracked under the pressure of the force of the water.

The recent rain has moistened the wood, the forest floor begins to bloom.  Is it a mushroom or a toadstool, I wonder?  Only a mycologist would know for sure.

and closer...

The frogs enjoy the moist climate too.  We seem to have more than our share this summer.  These two sit poised, ready to leap if a chicken walks by...

I have finished the embossed leaves socks from the winter issue of interweave knits.  I enjoyed this pattern design by Mona Schmidt, and will most likely make another pair.  These are slightly large for me, so I will use a smaller needle next time.  This was the first time I knit a pattern from a chart.  There were times that I was tempted to write the pattern long hand, but I remained true to the challenge that I set for myself, and used the chart throughout.  One thing that helped me was to print out a larger version of the chart.  After two pattern repeats, I had it memorized and did not need to look anyway.

discretion

 

It is with a sense of ambivalence that I enter through my garden gate these days...

As I said earlier, we have been through some rough times lately, and there have been other things that have taken precedence over the routine chores that one is involved with while keeping the garden.  And so, the garden has been left to its own. 

 

I entered the garden today to pick some peas and broccoli.  There are many types of weeds growing everywhere..especially in the pathways that are normally mulched with wood chips.  In some ways I am overwhelmed, (the gardener in me horrified to see so many areas needing to be tended to immediately)...in other ways I am calmly curious, (the naturalist in me, observing what species of weeds are growing where and what that would indicate about the soil)...Silpha americana is spotted ...balancing on a blade of chive.

 

 

Because there is not much I can do to improve the situation of "an overgrown with weeds garden in the beginning of July"...I decide to use artist's discretion and focus on the beauty of a garden left to its own.  I picked a nice basket of snow peas...choosing not to pull a single weed.  I will save that chore for another day when I feel like there is a slight chance that I could make difference....