Cardinalis cardinalis

It was eight degrees outside my window this morning.



Eight degrees, but the sun was shining. This vibrant red bird found a sunny spot in the quince bush.




The northern cardinal was one of the many species originally described by Linnaeus in his 18th-century work Systema Naturae. It was initially included in the genus Loxia, which now contains only crossbills. In 1838, it was placed in the genus Cardinalis and given the scientific name Cardinalis virginianus, which means "Virginia cardinal". In 1918, the scientific name was changed to Richmondena cardinalis to honor Charles Wallace Richmond, an American ornithologist. In 1983, the scientific name was changed again to Cardinalis cardinalis and the common name was changed to "northern cardinal", to avoid confusion with the seven other species also termed cardinals.



What a glorious red color!

contrasts

The weather was crisp and clear this morning. The river water catches the sun and it shines like moonlight against the silhouettes of the trees.



We had a scant amount of snow fall overnight.



...and today the winds have caught up with us. On my way to the henhouse, I grab my earflap hat that I knit from handspun Icelandic Sheeps wool. As I slip it on my head, I think of how many years ago I made the hat, and how it has worn so well. It seems to get better with age.



The sky is bright blue, without clouds at the moment. The wind will bring them, soon enough. I walk past the old tree and wonder if some critter is asleep..curled up in one of those cozy holes in the trunk. I used to think owls slept in there. If I were an owl, I would inhabit that tree.



Glancing up in the other direction, I notice the eagle. Probably looking for breakfast. I tell him to move along, and go fish the river for his breakfast...leave my chickens alone!



Back inside the cabin, I stoke the coal-fire in the woodstove. It will be a good day to stay inside and finish up some projects...



...or maybe start a new one!

hens breath

The first freezing temperatures have arrived.  As I open the henhouse door, I admire the frosty patterns of hens breath on the glass.

Do you see vines and leaves?

or maybe...feathers?

My Golden Lace Wyandotte hen finds a good spot in the sun and sits down to warm her feet in her fluffy down feathers.

Last springs pullets produce an egg-stravaganza!  All are now laying, delivering a farmers daily dozen (or is it a bakers dozen?)

a winter weavers window

This winter, there are attempts being made to achieve the goal of weaving with my handspun linen. Samples have been woven on a 4 harness table top loom that sits in a somewhat south/west facing window. The light is at its best in the mid to late afternoon, and the room is situated on the second floor, above the woodstove. The cabin has the old "gravity feed" vents in the floor, and the warmth radiates upwards. It is a pleasent place to be during these very cold days.



From my vantage point, I see the slope of the snow covered road.



If I look through the trees, I can see the river winding its way through the valley.



There is the old maple that has been severely trimmed this past fall. It holds a bird feeder, and late in the day, the turkeys come down off the mountain to eat the seeds that the smaller birds have dropped. Turkeys are normally very shy, and it is hard to get close to them. They do not notice me looking down on them from above. It is remarkable how much their behavior is like the chickens we keep. Or maybe it is the other way around.



The warp that I have dressed the loom with, is made from commercially spun cotton. Pulling one or more strands through the dent will allow me to decide what sett I will use for the final piece. I used a handmade mini-triangle loom for a raddle, but I'm not so sure it was the best idea.



The heddles are threaded for plain or tabby weave. I must remember to take notes about what I think works well, and what does not. Surprisingly, the weave structure that happened due to a threading error, is a favorite. I am learning and enjoying the process.



My inspiration comes from these towels (shown above), work of my Grandmother's and Great Grandmother's.



As you can see, there is still much for me to learn. The weft for the samples is my handspun linen singles. The singles were spun with Z twist.



Next, I plan to try the handspun hemp singles for warp. I don't mind telling you that I feel a bit daunted by the idea.

Double Flyer Spinning Wheel & Wetting the Line

A few weeks ago, I had a chance to make a video of how to wet the line while spinning on the Double Flyer Wheel.

With both hands busy, it is a little tricky to take time to dip, and smooth the line while spinning!

But it can be done! Occasionally, you can hold back both lines with one hand and use the other hand to dip.

If you had asked me, several years ago, if this move was possible, I would have answered, NO! But practice has proved me wrong...it isn't impossible, it is tricky to get the timing just right.

In the video, I have dressed the distaff with some hemp that I purchased at the Endless Mountain Fiber Festival. I was told it comes from Romania. It is very nice quality, and comes in a roving type of package.

We won't talk about the weather. There has been a lot of snow shoveling going on, and there is still more to come. Temps are dipping down into the sub zero zone. And February is a good time to sit by the fire and spin. And weave!

almost

The first frost has yet to arrive. The last of the summer sun is savored.



Short walks and long shadows.



Ghost bugs are there, and then not.



Green peppers change to orange.



and beans to seed.



Potatoes are dug and moved from one underground storage to another.



...black walnuts, generously given by a friend, await the hammer.



the rafter of turkeys grow larger by the days.



and september projects are finished in october.



it is time for bonfires and almost the beginning of november!

chambers

The icicles that surround our cabin are slow to melt. I see the world outside my window through frozen bars of ice. Ice Jail. I am ready to be freed from my indoor chambers.




Even though the morning thermometer readings are close to zero, my calendar helps keep track of the days, and gives me encouragement. Spring will come, and it will be time to plant. I need to be ready. I reach for the jar of Hungarian Flax seed that I rippled from the plants I raised last fall. It is time to free the seeds from the boll.

The USDA sent me only 200 seeds to start with. Flax seed is generally self pollinating, but cross and even outcrossing can occur. I'm not sure these seeds will all be true to type. There was another variety of flax (Elektra) that was going nearby, and though most of it matured earlier, there is a chance they cross pollinated.



I open each boll by crushing it with a spoon. The base of the boll shows the different segments (they look like little chambers), the wall that separates the segments is called the septum. On average, I'm finding about 7 seeds per boll, and have found as many as 9. Occasionally, there will be only 1 seed in the entire boll.



The color of the seed is lighter than I expected. See the shiny coating? That is the mucilage. If you soak the seeds in water, the mucilage is released and makes a sort of jell that is silky and slippery. Flax mucilage is used when spinning flax to smooth down the wispy ends and hairy surface of the spun linen thread. The mucilage maybe also be used to dress or treat the warp on the loom when weaving with linen. The dressing (when dry) helps to prevent the warp threads from sticking together.

After about an hour of this task of crushing the bolls, I have counted 370 seeds. I have only removed about half of the bolls from the jar so far....so I am very happy with the number. I at least doubled the count that I originally started with. Now remains the test of germination.



So, yes. Spring is coming and although the landscape outside does not show much of a change, the extended daylight hours are upon us! The sun gives me great pleasure on those days that it chooses to shine. I find a spot to soak up the warmth and light and bathe in its goodness.

winter rules

Today is February 26th. Winter still rules my word.

My phenological notebook informs me that in past years, the snowdrops and the skunk cabbage should be blooming. Not so, this year. I think of them under all this snow and ice that covers the riverrim. I look for the Symplocarpus on my walks to the post office. Symplocarpus is the only plant I know of that generates it own heat, enough to melt snow around it...but I don't see that happening yet. I do see more snow falling today.



I've finished spinning the bump I've been working on. I spun all of this using the in-hand technique, from distaff to spindle. It was a delightful experience.



Trouble is, I didn't take good notes of the fiber before I started. I'm afraid I don't know exactly what the fiber is. It might be "Korny" , a Shetland Sheep roving that arrived in a box from Cathy. Then again, it might not be.



The eventual use of these singles has yet to be determined. I am undecided as to if I should ply them.



Or not.

contrasts

we are little more than halfway past winter. we have had some extremely cold weather. yesterday, a good measure of snow fell and covered the riverrim.



the world outside is full of ice and snow, and inside, we keep the fires burning to warm our spirits and our bodies. it gets me to thinking about the contrast.



contrast n. state of being strikingly different from something else, typically something in juxtaposition or close association.



opposites.. antithesis....



inverse...obverse,



converse and reverse.



as I take the small glowing bead whorls to reduce the temperature in the cold snow, I'm moving back and forth between fire and ice. Stoking fires, shoveing snow...these are daily chores and I am constantly aware of the contrast.



Burning coals fall into snow, and disappear as they melt their way down to the ground.



Somewhere in the middle is balance.



...and I'm beginning to gather a good collection of whorls!