spinning

Earlier this month I took a drop spindle class at the Weaver's Guild.  I've had a drop spindle for quite some time, but it terrifies me, and my mother and I attempted to figure it out from YouTube videos and a beautiful book from Interweave called Respect the Spindle, but we got awkward and just couldn't swing it.  Or rather, perhaps there was too much swing.

Either way, I took a class and though I certainly got that thick and thin that art yarn is famous for, it wasn't on purpose and therefore was messy, but I felt quite proud and my little hank.

I also learned I love carding, so I bought my own used hand carders and tried blending, and I really felt in love with the peacefulness of the drum carder.  I love that flick-flick whir sound it makes.

The instructor brought some examples of yarn she'd spun on a spindle:

And above, a headband she crocheted out of a wool blended with her dog's fur.  I can imagine my own golden retriever's making a seriously lovely blend too.

I love the spinning room, partly because there are two levels of wheels all lined up for use, and then there's this wall of historic instruments, which I could gaze at for a good long while.  It's a nice reminder of the connection we are making to history, to our possible ancestors, and to purposeful work that is long but has such a treasured reward.

seedpods

On our hike, we collected seedpods--black locust, an invasive species in these parts.  We sometimes have the little trees growing up along the borders of fences, where we try to plant quieter things like honeysuckle.  (This year:  a dye garden.)

I've been really inspired by some of the pieces up in the Textile Center's gallery, including this one:

So right now, I'm thinking a lot about invasive species, about what that means for humans (movement, the idea of being an "alien" or immigrant), but also want it means from the human perspective onto other species.  Encroachment.  I'm thinking about embroidery and how words can be stitched onto linen, about the shapes of these pods and how they are so ubiquitous in Minnesota, about my own migration.

barn bluff

 

Some little elf in the night has added stairs to the side of the bluff, which is really only two or so blocks from our house.  My daughter again proved her mountain-goatishness and my son rode his father's shoulders the whole way.  It was a very sunshine and seedpods kind of afternoon.

dyeing with kool aid and other sugars

I took a class last fall called Kitchen Dyeing at the Textile Center.  I fully expected to peel some onions and hull some avocados, but what the teacher had meant was dyeing with Kool Aid and egg dye and the like.  The description for this season's version of the class has made that more clear, and since this was the first time the class was offered, I truly cannot hold it against anyone, though I have to admit, my face must have fell like some disappointed preschooler's.  I must clarify:  I don't have anything against this method, but it's not for me.  I have a deep sugar sensitivity due to my PCOS, and the smell is awfully cloying.  I also have a romantic notion linked to marching out in the woods and gathering up (well, sumac and sorrel) bits, or looking to the produce aisle to see how I can alter my woolies.

Either, way I got to practice variegation and painting on silk hankies, which was so soft and sticky.  You can get some dramatically vibrant color and after washing and soaking, the smell fades away.  I had notions of making some kind of fiber felted landscape with these pieces, but I ended up giving them away on a pay-it-forward site.

some books i read in 2014...

...  and I'd love to recommend to you.  These are some of my favorites from the year.  I'm always looking for a good new book, so if you ever have a recommendation, feel free to drop a note! 

P O E T R Y
1]  Suck on the Marrow by Camille Dungy:  Gorgeous language, historical narrative chronicling fugitive slaves.
2]  Reckless Lovely by Martha Silano (link to my review on The Rumpus here)
3]  Mysterious Acts by My People by Valerie Wetlaufer (link to my review on PANK here)
4]  The Messenger by Stephanie Pippin:  So many birds, so many startling, gorgeous poems.
5]  Pictures of the Afterlife by Jude Nutter:  Jude is, hands down, one of my favorite poets.  I recommend any of her collections.  This one is stunning.

N O N F I C T I O N
1] Hyperbole and a Half by Allie Brosh:  It's funny because it's true.  I felt those laughs welling up in all the empty spaces.
2]  Crazy Salad by Nora Ephron:  I already loved her, but I fell in love again listening to this audio book.  It made me want to write the personal essay, my brain tumbling and tumbling with ideas.
*3]  The Empathy Exams by Leslie Jamison:  Easily my favorite book I read this past year.  A collection of personal essays that examine anything from "personal loss to phantom illness."
4]  Stiff:  The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach:  I'm late to the party on this one; I saved it for when I started to do some work on death and dying, and I was also saving it because I knew I'd love it.  Which I did. 
5]  Illness as Metaphor and AIDS and Its Metaphors by Susan Sontag:  I think this ought to be on one of those zillion books to read before you die lists.  Sontag is smart, her prose is well balanced and considering and will be re-read.

F I C T I O N
1]  Thrill-Bent by Jan Richman:  Lush language, sexuality strumming in this novel chasing roller coasters.
2]  Let's Do:  Stories by Rebecca Meacham:  I did a talk on the lyric essay in one of Rebecca's classes and after reading her stories, I wish I could teach a fiction class.  She's excellent and deserves a wider audience.
3]  Where'd You Go Bernadette? by Maria Semple:  Quirky and funny and sweet, all at once.  A good airplane read, but also a good conversational read, which made it an excellent book club choice.
4]  Montana, 1948 by Larry Watson:  This book feels to be a part of those standard required summer reading tables, and one of the few I hadn't read yet.  Certainly worth it:  Watson is controlled and balanced in his devastating narrative.
5]  California by Edan Lepucki:  A post-apocalyptic novel that has really grown on me since I've read it.  A couple in the woods discovers they're pregnant and makes an attempt to reach out for community.
6]  Gone by Colum McCann:  This one is an Amazon short (please forgive me for my Amazon sins) and like McCann's other work, controlled and so impressive in his style. 
7]  The Children's Hospital by Chris Adrian:  Such a strange, surreal, haunting narrative.  A hospital becomes an arc after a massive flood, the occupants the only survivors.
8]  The Goldfinch by Donna Tartt:  I think what appealed to me most were the sections in New York City, imagining the beauty of such old shops full of beautiful, rich objects.

a montessori birthday

This is my bear with her preschool teacher, Kai.  Maya's birthday was January 3, though celebrating it right after winter break is a near impossibility.

I was invited to the classroom, and I brought Sir Finnegan with me, and also a photograph from her birth, as well as the photo books I made of her first twelve months.  Along the special carpet was a candle she decorated with her classmate Dylan, and I brought treats.  The kids all sit in a circle, along with the child's special guests, and she holds a globe as she walks it around the inside of the circle, her classmates singing along.  Have you heard the birthday song?  It's the sweetest:

The earth goes round the sun,

  The earth goes round the sun,

  It takes 12 months for the earth to go around the sun,

  And then Maya was one…

The earth goes round the sun,

  The earth goes round the sun,

  It takes 12 months for the earth to go around the sun,

  And then Maya was two…

The earth goes round the sun,

  The earth goes round the sun,

  It takes 12 months for the earth to go around the sun,

  And then Maya was three…

The earth goes round the sun,

  The earth goes round the sun,

  It takes 12 months for the earth to go around the sun,

  And now Maya is four!

And my little bear walked around that sun, so rooster-proud of herself.  (And I sugared up the kids and got to leave.)

cora in coveralls

Here she is, showing off her new duds on her new blanket!  It's clearly cold out, so I'll have to knit her up something sweet--a stole or a sweater, perhaps.  She'll live in Green Bay, which is winter half the year, after all.

first snow walk of the new year

This winter, we've learned that a good pair of repurposed woolen pants (two sweater sleeves) can make an excellent alternative to snow pants.  We've learned that icicles create amazing shapes beneath the glossy exterior and Finn will copy his sister in most all things. 

the overalls

She makes beautiful dolls, that Sami-from-Australia.  And she makes these sweet patterns too, including these reversible overalls, which I've decided to use with Cora, the Vikings-Packers doll.  It's so peaceful, working through a small pattern.  What satisfaction to iron-trim-pin-sew in an afternoon.  And all with two sweet fat quarters, each in homage to my best friend and her husband's favorite football teams.  We shall see how the rest falls together.  I'm using the extra fabric to make a teeny tiny quilt for Cora to snuggle with.

making little booties

I used this Easy Knitted Booties pattern over the holiday and whipped out a few pairs for the dolls I've been noodling with.  

It's a really delightfully memorizable pattern. 

I'm a bit shocked at the ground here.  These photographs were taken in December!  Late December!  Look at the little flecks of green and the snow-less stump.

Next:  some clothing of Cora's own.  Right now, she's in a borrowed dress, and I have plans for reversible overalls.

the bee sweater my mother made

We all have our talents we can share with one another.  My husband has some kind of miraculous patience that can wisp over me like a shroud; he saves me from so much strange anxiety.  He's also a talented musician--his guitar playing was what caught my eye nearly sixteen years ago.  My sister has compassion that surprises me at its depth; she's also a mighty good artist.  She married a musician too.  Throughout my undergraduate years, my father would make comments on my essays at the last moment, every last moment, despite the zillions of essays for his own students that needed help, more help, just as urgently.

My own mama.  Here's one of hers.  She knit this beautiful sweater on teeny tiny (size 1?) needles with sock yarn.  There are little bees on it and honeycombs and it's so warm and delicious and I'm so envious at how absolutely good she is.  And for the first time, my little girl cooperated with a photo shoot.  She ran around her other grandma's front yard and let me take her photograph as she whirled about.  Don't you love her spirit?