Intermission...

Yes, well it seems I fell off the earth here with my critter blogs... could be the snow, or the short days and dark, dark nights.  It could be that we went to visit my sister in sunny So. Cal for her birthday (yay!), but really I think it all boils down to one issue: LAZY!!  It's ok though, because this is for fun, right?  Oh but Sister's birthday gives me a reason to post a photo:

So, okay, truthfully this was her gift last year, but I just saw this photo pop up on my screen saver today and thought- ohhh... that is pretty.  I wove it on my 8 shaft table loom and the pattern has the unlikely name of Worst twill (Worst being someone's name, not a description...)

I have all these fabulous ideas of stuff I want to write about, unfortunately inspiration strikes at inopportune times, like in the shower, in the car, walking between my office and the photo copy machine and then promptly flees my mind, like the fleeting snow of early winter.  However, I did want to mention that I have just finished reading Animal, Vegetable, Mineral by Barbara Kingsolver (if you click on the title it will take you to the website about this book) Yes, Yes, I know- it came out 3 years ago- Where HAVE I been?  I loved it!  (and on this same note- How come no one ever told me about Wendell Berry?  How have I lived this long and never, not once, read his work?-- Jayber Crow coming from the library next week!!)

I just made the mistake of going to Amazon to read the reviews of A,V, M... I am always most interested in the one stars.  It occurs to me that some people can't stand for anyone to be successful.  The book chronicles one year of the Kingsolver family trying to eat locally and raise a majority of their food.  The one starrers were obsessed with the fact that the author did not detail any failures on their farm.  Um... ok, this is not a "how-to" book showing you all the ins and outs of how to garden or raise poultry, it is a memoir, an autobiography of sorts that chronicles one year (one year) of raising food.  Are the authors not allowed to have a good year?  We garden, farm, raise food and yes there are always set backs, dilemmas, disasters, but my overall feeling is not "this is impossibly difficult".  I think if I were to write about my experiences it would have the same "Polly Anna" blush as Kingsolver's book.

Well, hopping down from the soap box now, I just wanted to share a book for a nice winter read.

I will be back soon with more critter photos, because the photos are what I love best about the writing!

Critter Tour- Part Three!

Greta

Oh my beautiful, beautiful Greta...  such luxurious, silken white locks you have.

This is my "wild sheep".  As soft and beautiful as she is, she is also very flighty, skittish, um... she has a strong sense of self-preservation. When I go in to feed, she is always watching me, like I might all of a sudden leap onto her and start devouring her.  She is Navajo Churro crossed with Icelandic. I told that to a sheep person one time and they just asked Why?

I don't know why- I bought her with my original small flock of various "primitive" types- but I do love her fleece.  and her crazy personality!  She is a jumper (not, thankfully, of fences) but when I open the pen gate to let everyone out to graze, this girl jumps past me (five feet off the ground!) before she goes bounding off to nibble grass with everyone else. Very cute and endearing when you are ready for it, when you are in the flight path- not so much...

Greta is the sheep that nearly killed me.  Well that is really an exaggeration, she merely dumped me and almost broke my nose.  And it was entirely my fault (ok, so maybe not entirely but I am the one with the BIG BRAIN and the opposable thumbs).  This is what happened:

We had finished shearing everyone else. Greta is usually last because she is the most difficult to trick into the holding cell pen.  We got her in there, I put her little sheepy halter on and led her out to our shearing stand.  Lead is kind of the wrong word for it- barely contained a jumping, hopping, bounding bundle of sheep wool is more accurate. 

She settled right down once her head was secured in the stand and all went well, until it was time to take her out on the grass to do her belly.  As a horse owner, I know better than to stand directly in the path of travel, but I thought "she's just a sheep" and she DID NOT want to come out on the grass. Sooo... I got in front of her and gave a mighty tug on her lead.  Yes, you all know what happened.  She broke free of her frozen posture and bowled me over at the knees, face first into the ground.  A little shocking.  But, in my defense, I never let go of her!

My husband grabbed her lead, told me to go in the house and make sure I was OK.  He told me later that Greta continued jumping up at the end of her lead- her feet head high to him (and he stands nearly 6 feet!).  He was able to finish shearing her without my help and all I suffered from was a bloody nose.

and a little embarrassment.

Critter Tour- Part Two

Mortimer- the Wonder Goat!

Yes, I know, he’s adorable.

Rather than follow any type of logical order, I am going from our oldest sheep to our youngest goat!  He’s just so stinkin’ cute, I couldn’t wait to write about him and share his picture.

We got baby Mortimer from some friends of ours who have a milk goat doe.  Mortimer was her buck kid from this Spring.  Being a boy doesn’t bode well for a dairy animal, especially when your mom is the only other goat!  We went over to visit one day and he followed us everywhere.  When I finally sat down on a log, he climbed right up in my lap and fell asleep…  Needless to say, even though we did not NEED another goat, we had to have this sweetie-pie.

Luckily his former owners were delighted to have a new home for him, especially once he was weaned and started jumping up on the propane tank, parked cars and head butting everything that moved.  We went to get him in our 2000 Plymouth Neon.  He rode in the back seat like he had been doing it his whole life.

Back in the small ruminant pen, he got picked on a lot since he was the new guy and little to boot.  So to make sure he got enough to eat, we devised this system for him:

He is up on top of the goat/sheep house.  Being the youngest and most agile amongst old, fat, lazy sheep has its advantages!

He grew up with free roam at his first home and still likes to come out and visit with us and help in any way (pulling down flower stalks through the fence, knocking over buckets of tools, even trying to get up on the food tables when we let him out during our annual Weaving Group potluck!)

He is a pure delight and I highly recommend a goat, if you have the inclination to own a farm animal!

Critter Tour- Part One

I had so much fun writing about BDR, that I decided to do a series of posts detailing all of our ranch critters. And since I was touted as blogging about fibery things in the Sandpoint Fiberarts Guild newsletter, I thought I would start with a tour of the small ruminant pen! (for our purposes that means sheep and goats)

SPOT

My first subject is ol’ Spot. She is a Jacob sheep and as near as we can figure is between 9 and 10 years old. She is the matriarch of our small fiber herd and uses those spear-like horns to boss the others around.

My husband and I adore Spot. She is very people oriented, likes to be scratched in all those itchy spots that a sheep just can’t reach and (my personal favorite) lets out the loudest, most pathetic bleat if her people walk by without stopping to love on her. She opens her mouth wide enough to put a softball in there…

Here is another photo of her, with fleece:

And after shearing:

Yes, she is a little embarrassed… but much cooler! and don't her horns look even more impressive?!

I haven’t washed her 2010 fleece yet (it is taking awhile with 8 fleeces to clean!), but I had her fleece from last year milled into roving at the Going to the Sun Fiber Mill in Kalispell. It is a beautiful, soft grayish white.

Now all I need is the time to spin it all up!!!!

Next up:

Mortimer, the wonder goat!

Have a fleecy day.

Farm life...

This is "BDR" aka

Big Damn Rooster.

He is a barred rock and king of the roost. I am guessing he weighs about 10 pounds, but who knows since you can't catch him!
We (meaning me, my husband and our hens) tolerate him because he protects our egg laying beauties. He even chased a coyote and made him drop his lunch (yes, one of our hens). He crows at all times of day and night and rubs the backs of the hens raw with his "loving attention", but you gotta love him anyway.

He has a little (and I mean that literally) competition from "Maxwell not so Smart", our other rooster. He is an Americana and strikingly beautiful, however he must be a little camera shy, as I looked through all of my photos and not one of him!! He got his name from his baby crow- it sounded exactly like the theme from Get Smart. The "not so" he earned by getting in the habit of running away from the coop at night, instead of going in with the others for night time safety...


What I really wanted to share was this photo:


A beautiful cup of calendula flowers. So lovely... sigh... I love the fall time, when the flowers are still blooming and it is not so hot. I harvest about 20 flower heads every week from my ramshackle garden. These are all volunteers and they are strong, healthy, beautiful, prolific, and (do I dare say?) Perfect.

I dry their petals and then I will use them in the soap I will make next month for Christmas (and all year!) gifting. A very satisfying endeavor, all the way around!!

Happy Weekend!!

Protesting Perfection

Well... here it is. You might wonder what would provoke me to post this photo of me (after a hard day of office work, with hair that used to have bangs but is now somewhere "in between", holding a sign that reads "I'm too Awesome to be perfect.") the answer lies below:

Brene Brown (the beautiful author and Blog goddess of Ordinary Courage) is spearheading the "Perfect Protest". You should pop over and read about it and participate!! But first, of course, read this.

As I walked home last night, I pondered the meaning of perfection. And the distinction between striving for excellence and the pursuit of perfection.

I'll start with the premise that perfection is unattainable. To have a goal that is unattainable gives you permission to never try, to constantly bemoan that nothing ever works out, that you are incapable, worthless... As Brene says:
"Perfectionism is a twenty-ton shield that we lug around thinking it will protect us when, in fact, it’s the thing that’s really preventing us from taking flight."

Excellence, on the other hand, is something you can accomplish in only one way- hard work and practice. If you give yourself permission to be a beginner, to be "not the best" then you have the chance to play and practice and get good at something. You can fly! (so to speak- don't go jumping off the carport roof.)

What is so alluring about perfect then? When I thought about perfection, what came to mind was this: a perfectly round, smooth, white sphere. and I thought what would I do if I found this perfect thing, laying here on the ground? I would pick it up and inspect it, turning it, thoroughly scrutinizing every inch of it. Why? I am looking for the imperfection, of course!! We do that to ourselves, each other, every situation- we scrutinize, analyze, ferret out the imperfection, so that we can proclaim "Aha! not perfect" What is the point of that? To make ourselves feel better (see, she isn't perfect either), to shield ourselves from new experiences (well, if I can't be a concert pianist the first time I sit down, forget it)? If you think about it, our imperfections are what make us unique. If I found a basket full of perfect white spheres, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart, they would be perfectly, well... perfectly boring!

I have battled that disapproving voice in my head for years. You know it- it's that little voice that pipes up when you get excited about doing something new. It says needly little things like
"you really think you can do that?"
"you know EVERYBODY else is better at that than you"
"Come on, you are too fat, old, short, tall, (insert your excuse here) to do that".

Some days I win the battle, some days, not so much. It's okay, another imperfection that I am willing to embrace :)

So, I challenge you. I challenge you to breathe deeply, look in that mirror and say "I am not perfect, and that is okay. In fact it is AWESOME!"

and post your not perfect picture. I did, double chins and all!!!

Tie one on!

Soo.. I have been working on a project for my good friend who was married in December. I promised her 4 hand woven placemats. The yarn was chosen, the pattern was decided and I gleefully began my calculations. I carefully measured the 227 ends for my warp, I thoughtfully sleyed my reed at 15 ends per inch, first light green, then dark green. I painstakingly threaded my heddles, often referring to my pattern, so that everything was exactly right. I tied onto the back beam and began to beam by beautiful, stripey warp. I tied onto the front apron, dutifully wove in my spacers (rolled up toilet paper- it works wonderfully!) and began the joy of weaving.

Clicking up the shafts, clicking down the shafts, throwing the shuttle back and forth, packing the warp with the beater, clicking up the shafts, clicking down the shafts throwing the shuttle back and forth, advancing the fabric, etc. There is such a pleasing rhythm to weaving - it is one of the things I truly enjoy about it. As I progressed, I was pleased with the pattern, my selvedges looked good, and I wasn’t pulling the weft so hard that it was distorting the edges. I happily wove along, feeling talented and proficient, blissfully ignorant of what lay ahead.

As I neared completion of my third placemat, it seemed that I was unusually close to the end of my warp. Now, I know the importance of measuring your ppi (picks per inch) and of sampling, however, as with everything in life, knowing is not the same as doing. So, yes, I was weaving at approximately 12 ppi and my pattern was set up for 15 ppi. Non-weavers may be wondering what this has to do with anything, weavers are probably nodding their heads and smirking, knowing how this small discrepancy can make a huge difference, especially since the pattern I was working with is a certain number of picks, not a certain number of inches. It became apparent that I was not going to be able to squeeze my final placemat out of the remaining warp…

This dilemma presented me with several options on how to proceed. My first thought was to tell my friend that 3 placemats were plenty (I am not too proud to admit I am lazy!), but I reconsidered, they are a wedding gift after all. My second option was to cut off what I had finished and start fresh. Not a bad option, I enjoy sleying and threading, but it seemed so wasteful, not using that last bit of yarn.

So, I made the big decision- I would tie on more warp. And since I was tying more on anyway, I would cut enough to make napkins too! Oh, wasn’t I brilliant? Wasn’t I brave? The next step, of course, was learning how to do it.

My impression was that I would be cutting off the old warp behind the heddles (as the benefit to tying on more warp is that you don’t have to re-thread everything). With that picture in my head, I began trying to figure out how one would keep all the little threads straight as you tied them on, how you would keep the 100 inches of added warp from tangling up into a big bird’s nest and finally, how you would re-beam the new warp. My husband and I envisioned two long tables on which I could lay my warp threads, one at a time, as I tied them on. He offered to help by holding the threads for me (God bless this patient man!). I emailed for help, I Google searched, I looked in my weaving books. For as popular a method this seemed to be, I could not locate any directions on the actual “how” to do it.

Finally (and of course) my weaving study group came to the rescue! Our meeting last week was at one of our member’s homes. She has a beautiful studio and we gathered there to share our tricks and shortcuts on warping. When I described what I was hoping to do and how I thought it should be done, they were quick to help me see that I was looking at it backwards (hmmm… how unusual!) The old warp was to be cut off IN FRONT of the reed, then the one could proceed beaming onto the back beam, as per usual.

AHHA! The light clicked on in my head! Well that actually made sense! And solved all the problems of how to deal with these enormous lengths of thread balling up everywhere. I was thrilled!

And so my newest weaving learning adventure commenced.

I grabbed up my chains of neatly measured warp and prepared to begin. Then, as is my usual sequence of events, I put it back down and did the step that was actually next- cutting off what I had finished.

I had enough existing warp to make one of the napkins, so I completed that. It may be obvious to you by now that calculating loom waste is not exactly my strong suit. So I ended up shortening my first napkin by about 2 inches, so that I would actually be able to cram the shuttle through the tightening shed (I eventually had to use a stick shuttle at the very end).

I did have the foresight to tie up the apron rod for the back beam before I cut my project off and therefore prevented all the threads from slipping out through the back!

Once I cut my completed placemats and napkin off, I had approximately 3 inches of thread left in the front of the reed. I HIGHLY suggest leaving way more than that if you intend to try this.

With my project safely cut off, rolled up and put next to my sewing machine for finishing, I sat down to begin the process of tying on 227 pieces of thread. Since the ends were so short, I used a pair of hemostats to assist. My weaving group told me (much to my relief) that I did not have to use the “fancy” weaver’s knot, but could use a simple overhand knot. Lucky for me, since I would probably still be tying knots if I had to use that one!

I once again grabbed up my warp, put the cross in my hand, took it back out so that I could cut the loop in the end, put it back in (incorrectly), one-handedly shuffled around through the items scattered on the floor beside my loom, came up with my Learning to Weave by Deborah Chandler book, looked in the index to find “holding the cross” (page 35, if anyone else needs to know!), reassembled my cross correctly and grabbed up the first thread.

By wetting my thumb and forefinger, I was able to get a firm grip on both ends of the two threads to be tied together.

I made a loop, then pushed the nose of the hemostats through, grabbed the two ends and pulled them through the loop. I pulled extra hard to tighten the knot then went on to the next.

First all the light green, then all the dark green. Slowly, but surely, the new warp was secured.

I now realized I had yet another problem. The idea is to just start beaming the warp by turning the crank on the back beam. My problem was that an overhead knot would not easily slide through my 15 dent reed (15 dent means 15 slots per inch- if you can imagine that!) and believe me, I tried! So this basically meant that I had to re-sley the reed- one fat, knotted thread at a time, by sticking my sleying hook through the dent, twisting it a little to broaden the space, and pulling the thread by hand from behind the reed. If you have never done this, I will tell you that is absolutely a test of patience!

However, now I am rolling! The knots pulled easily through my Texsolv heddles, and I continued to beam my warp without incident! YAY!

The actual weaving of the articles is not as time consuming as all the incidental activities and set up involved. It is a metaphor for life in a way. If you take the time to set up a good foundation, everything flows more smoothly.

Happy weaving!