Tag Archives: #gardening

Rites of Spring

A bonfire! The perfect way to burn off the last bits of sleepy winter and welcome spring!

I missed a week, and I have a good excuse: I was out in the woods, completely removed from cell service and wifi, hanging out with some of my favorite folx at Fertile Ground Gathering. I went to my first FGG in 2010, the same year I started spinning. I’ve missed a few between then and now, but have returned several times and each time feels like coming home. It is one of my favorite places to rest, recharge, and recalibrate.

This year, I had the privilege of facilitating a collaborative tapestry project. This is a big shift from my usual, highly-solitary work in my studio alone! Over the course of the long weekend, I got to speak to so many people, new friends and old, who each brought stories and pieces of their lives to add to the tapestry. It is an honor to be able to hold that kind of space and to facilitate a community art working like that, and I hope to do more of it.

The finished piece!

I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect, and as someone who really likes plans and structure, that was a challenge for me. The weft in this tapestry is WILD!!! There’s horsehair, bark twine, paracord, handspun yarns, feathers, a saz string, paper, a bootlace, ceremonial ribbons, plastic bag yarn (“plarn”), and even a glowstick! Some took a turn at weaving in their own additions, others asked me to place their pieces for them. Each addition made new shapes and pushed me to figure out how to keep it cohesive while making room for everything to fit. The end result fit the loom face perfectly, and it’s all held securely in place, so I’d say it’s a success. There are weirdnesses in it (skipped warps, weird sheds, gaps and slubs), but that seems fitting. Life in community isn’t always neat and orderly; chaos abounds and we are usually enriched by it.

Little looms for little hands

I also had the opportunity to teach beginning weaving. I think my favorite part of that was the chance to bond with my daughters. I don’t push them to like what I like. They know what I do, and they often hang out with me in the studio, but they’re not asked to be any more involved in the goings on of The Yarnicorn than they may want to be at any point. Youngest has always liked squishing the wool and playing with scraps, and has gotten more interested in making her own wet-felted pieces. She’s asking to learn to knit now, though I think I’ll make her roll a dexterity check before we try much of that. I don’t want to frustrate her.

New weavings, new weavers!

Oldest likes it when I make things for her, and enjoys picking out bits for batts sometimes, but didn’t really seem interested in doing much fibercrafting for herself until she tried weaving. She proudly announced to anyone who’d listen that this was now Her Thing. I’m happy she has found a fiberwork practice that pleases her.

The view from our porch.

It was wonderful to have time to decompress. I didn’t fully understand just how much stress and tension I was carrying until I was given the opportunity to put it down, disconnect from the daily grind, and just sit quietly in nature with my children and BREATHE for a bit! Being held up by my community, being seen and celebrated for my art, and being given an opportunity to simply be, without pretense, was so healing. Taking a few days to unplug from technology is something I often try to do, but frequently fail at actually doing because it’s so easy to sneak a look or “just quickly check my email”. Having access to the internet completely removed from the equation was just what I needed. Nothing back home was an urgent matter. All the planning and doing and figuring out a way forward was right there waiting for me when I got back.

Peas and a bunch of brassicas, which need to be culled back a bit now.

My garden was waiting for me, too. It seemed to be really happy about all the rain we got over the weekend. For the first time since I’ve lived here, I’ve managed to successfully grow peas! I’ve tried for 5 years, and finally got the right combination of soil, sunlight and start date. The tall varieties are nearing the top of the trellises now, and all of them are flowering.

My tiny “Tom Thumb” peas have almost-edible peas on them now!

The tiny “Tom Thumb” variety of peas I tucked in the corner of each planter have actual peas on them now! My herb bin has gone nuts with mint and chickweed, which youngest says we need to keep because she likes snacking on it. The radishes are fully grown, and it’s about time to pluck them all up so we can replant in their spaces.

And now, the nightshades!

We started the next round of seedlings before we left for the woods, and they’re wasting no time. In a week or so, they’ll be ready to play outside, and hopefully they’ll be happy. I’ve had pretty good luck with tomatoes and peppers here; I hope that continues, as we all love to eat them.

I have mundane things to deal with this week. The laundry is all done. The camping supplies have been cleaned and restocked (we have a few other trips coming up, because it’s scout camping season). I’m still sorting through the rubble of my failed marriage and trying to figure out what needs to be done to finalize the divorce. The children are slowly being reintroduced to their father, which is… a post for another day. I’m trying to keep my eyes on the horizon. Another exciting travel possibility has opened up for us, and I’m working hard to get that to go. No spoilers, because I don’t want to jinx it, but I will say that it requires passports. If nothing else, the dream of it is calling me forward. I know that I carry with me the love and support of a vibrant community, and I’m so thankful for having had the chance to play in the woods for a bit and recenter amidst all the changes. Now, back to work!

#100DaysOfBatts2019 is still going strong!

Growing Things

This little radish wasn’t quite ready yet, but someone had tried to tug it up anyway.

Growing things is hard! Good conditions make for good results, though there are always surprise variables along the way. In my life, as in my garden, I continue to try to make good growing spaces, with good conditions and good boundaries. In my life, as in my garden, there continue to be little surprises and variables outside my control. It’s hard to trust that things will usually come up as they should. They don’t always, and I know that, and I find myself losing faith sometimes. Then there’s the aspect of scheduling, and who determines when things are ripe and ready. I bet that little radish would’ve liked more time in the warm, rich earth of its planter, but that’s not what it got. It got pulled up early. And yet, it may be the most celebrated thing we take from our garden this season. It has the honor of being the first, and that means something. It being off-schedule and out of control and early was a source of great delight in my garden.

I can relate to that little radish. There’s a lot going on in my life that’s making me want to dig myself in, fight for the status quo, and scream “I’M NOT READY!!!” but I’m already halfway to whatever comes next. There really isn’t a way to dig myself back down into what I know, regardless of how comfortable and comforting I might find that idea to be. The reality is depleted soil and zero growth potential, and I know I don’t want that. I don’t know what’s to come, and that’s intimidating. Maybe I’m about to be served up as a snack! Maybe this is simply the next step on a much longer adventure. Where does this go? I don’t get to know, and so much of what is happening seems largely outside my control.

A happy little Spring Rainbow batt, complete with sparkle!

I’m grateful for my #100daysofbatts project. I’m 1/4 through it today, and the pile of accumulating product is pleasing to see. Slowly, steadily, it all starts to make sense. I’m trying to stay rooted in that practice, in that daily effort, and hoping to use it as a way to steady myself as the things I can’t control shift around me. This will resolve, and the next thing will come. Just like Spring came. Just like that little radish. I’ll try to stay present for the simple joys and the beauty in each little moment. I’ll keep showing up for whatever comes next.

Signs of Life

Things are starting to bloom here, even if it’s gloomy and grey today.

The caption above pretty much sums up my week. Things are growing, however slowly. Things are starting to bloom, even if against a grey and stormy backdrop. I want sunlight and brilliant blue skies, but I’m going to have to content myself with pops of petals and gradually warming temps.

This is a metaphor. I want resolution and the tidying of myriad loose ends. What I get is incremental progress, and a chance to practice patience. I’m learning, however slowly. I try to remember that the grey skies and storm clouds water my garden, just like the trials and frustrations help me to grow stronger and more capable of weathering my own storms. Everything has a season…

Peeking through to say hello

It helps to see the little bulbs and bits we planted last fall coming through. Every year I’ve lived here, I’ve planted bulbs in the fall. There are some in the backyard from our first fall here. The next, we planted a row along the front sidewalk. Then another, the third year, along the other side. The fourth year, we filled in some of the gaps in the front two rows. And then, last year, the girls and I moved the planters and put a row of bulbs along the front of the yard by where we usually park our car.

I always have a bit of doubt they’ll come up. It gets so cold and the ground is so hard. In the case of the ones in the back, they’re five years old now. Unless I mark them early, they tend to get trampled right as they’re poking through. We rarely water them, or provide them any kind of care. And yet, every year, they faithfully return to brighten our space and remind me that winter ends. Snowdrops and daffodils and crocuses and tulips, even the occasional hyacinth peeks through to announce that things are thawing out and warming up.

My lichen collection is growing! I should probably start that dye…

In the course of looking for color in nature, I’ve found a few more lichens for my collection. Not sure I have the mental energy for that project yet, but I really ought to do something about the stick pile that’s taking over my porch. We’ll see…

More BFL clouds. I’m absolutely enamored with this fleece!

Beyond that, it has been a reasonably quiet week. I washed more of that beautiful BFL I started last week, and my love for it has only grown. I will be sad to finish it next week. It has given me something to look forward to, and I worry that in its absence, I’ll start dreaming of buying new fleeces (I neither need nor have time/space for much more raw wool at this point!). That said, MDSW is fast approaching… The annual trip! I’d better get my butt back to the studio and get through my current projects if I want to responsibly acquire more. I should put the last bits of “hermit season” to good use.

Where Is Spring?

My little lichen pile is growing

Can it be spring now? The last couple of days have been sunny and warm, and I am ready to put the cold and slush and grey behind me! I think we’re due another round of it, unfortunately. March is like that here. But… soon.

Not much to report this week, and I’m grateful for that. I love it when things are steady and quiet. Not “easy”, but reasonably peaceful and that’s always a nice thing. I put a couple of teaching gigs on my calendar; I’m looking forward to doing more of that this year. I’m testing some new project ideas, but they’re not quite ready to share. And then, of course, the usual work of spinning, washing wool, organizing inventory…

Good luck, little dudes!

My seedlings were busting out of their sprouting trays, so I took them outside. I may have sentenced them to a cold end, but I’m hoping they’ll toughen up and survive. We’ll start some direct-seeded neighbors for them this weekend. Maybe something will come of it. In any case, I needed to clear the trays to make room for the tomato and pepper seedlings, which need to be started soon.

I’m not much of a gardener, but I love the idea of it. The girls and I built a pretty good garden for this year. Hopefully the plants will like it as much as we do. If nothing else, we’l learn from what doesn’t work. That seems to be a theme this year…