Saved From the Storm

OK--I'm overdue on some posts.  Even went to a fiber festival last weekend but haven't written about it yet.   The tiny chicks are now half-grown chickens.

But here's one for today--I'll catch up later.  Today, it rained.  Not as bad as in Pensacola to the west of us (2 feet of rain!) but still a bit on the torrential side.  We debated wimping out and not going in (practicing for retirement).  But we both had some work to do, and we did take off a couple of days last week, so we girded our loins (aka donned rain jackets) and nobly headed off into the storm.

So it was meant to be.  Apparently Bob has a reputation, because he got a call from someone he didn't even know because someone in their office had found a wee kitten stuck in the storm drain.  He's about two and a half weeks old.  For all he's been through he's in pretty good shape.

Looks like it will be 2 a.m. feedings for awhile.

Sproing!!

Spring has sprung.  We've traded in sweat suits for tank tops and racing the weeds in the garden.  A couple of weeks ago I was heading out to do some chores--but I heard the butterfly garden calling my name.  It was a rare perfect day--warm, but not hot.  Hint of cool in the breeze.  Blue skies.  No mosquitoes.  So the chores will be there later--I grabbed my book and headed for the swing, where I was soon joined by Apache cat.  I read, a little.  Looked around at the plants suddenly emerging from the soil.  Listened to the calls of the hawks declaring territory and the lazy droning of the carpenter bees--one hovered close enough that I could feel the breeze from his wings on my cheek [note:  I did not freak out.  Carpenter bees don't sting]

Somehow even the onions from the store know that it's spring, sprouting on my kitchen counter away from sun or friendly soil.

I had been worried that our strange winter of warm/cold/warm/cold would ruin the azalea bloom--but bloom they did.  Alas--their glory was fleeting, as a heavy rain beat off the blossoms.  But I did get a picture on a foggy morning.

 

 

Of course one expects flowers to be beautiful--but how about the unexpected beauty of a perfect cabbage leaf?

 

 

 

That beauty was also short-lived, as they became part of our dinner that evening.

 

I've also been doing a lot of spinning and knitting.  Although I own  . . . several . . . spinning wheels, I seem to be spending more time with my hand spindles.  There's just something so basic about just twirling it in your fingers.  I'll write more about spinning in a future post, but wanted to show a little eye candy.  Bob had his photo booth out, so I grabbed my latest treasure--an ounce of eri silk.   Yes--there's more than one type of silk.  There's the silk that you normally think of when you think of silk (officially bombyx mori), and there's "wild" or "raw" silk.  But there are others as well, more rare.  This is the natural color--looks like gold wire when spun.

 

 

Here's RiverSong, enjoying a little lap time with Bob.

 

 

 

While poor little Noko Marie, feeling neglected, is just going to squeeze  into a box and mail herself somewhere where she's appreciated.

 

 

 







March is Nearly Over

And I'm still wearing a sweatshirt!  Off and on--some days temps are in the 80's--today it barely reached 60.

As though I haven't been busy enough with the four jobs and some other stuff--I got called up for jury duty AGAIN.  I'm one of those who get summoned about once a year.  But I've never been selected for an actual case--until now.  So I had selection last week and the case today.  It was interesting--not at all like on TV, of course.  As a jury, we ended up feeling slightly . . . used.  There was obviously a lot going on that we weren't party to.  This was a criminal case, the State of Florida vs. "X".   What he had done was get mad and kick in a door--damages of $140.  No theft, didn't injure anyone.  Pretty cut and dried because he admitted that he kicked the door (but didn't mean to damage it).  Shouldn't this have been a civil case in a small claims court?  Seems a little fishy.

OK--the other stuff.  Early March we had the annual Camp Gordon Johnson parade down in Carabelle. Gordon Johnson was a training camp during WWII.   We've been doing this one for many years.  Rather poignantly, we see that the turnout is getting smaller each year.  There aren't many WWII veterans in the parade anymore.  That war as a long time ago now, and memory fades.  The three "Andrew Sisters" who rode with us were playing and singing "Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy" but they had never heard of Rosie the Riveter.

 

 



And just to prove to Michael that I am actually starting to knit the socks I promised him

 

 

 

The next week was spring break--not that the FSU staff get time off--but it's a good time for another hooky day to head down to St. Marks for some hiking, bird watching, and . . . more knitting.  We met a couple from Maine who travel with their cockatoo (who didn't want anything to do with me but happily marched up and down Bob's arm)

 

 

 

Off to Outz's oyster bar for lunch.  I had a picture of the outside a few posts ago.  This time I remembered to take the camera in to show the décor--apparently it's a tradition to sign a dollar bill and stick it on the wall.  If they ever run short for the rent they can just peel off the wallpaper.

 

 

 

 

We also got the garden patio project finished.  All the flagstones are down and sanded in, and we even got an umbrella and table so we can take a break from gardening in style.

 

 

 

Now the reason that my poor brother's cold feet don't yet have his handspun, handknit socks (although I have given proof they are in progress) is that I took on yet another major project.  For the theatre's production of Spamalot I wove those crazy shoulder mantles.  The next show is Dangerous Liaisons, which is as sumptuous as Spamalot was silly.  The designer wished for an elaborate black lace shawl--and, being myself, I told her *of course* I could knit one.  I've knit lots of fancy shawls--not that I wear them much, but they're fun to make.  Did I once remind myself that I usually take about 3 months to make one, and I had one month?  So I had to be a knittin' fool--and I got it done (in the nick of time--the day before the dress parade, where the director gets to see the costumes, and four days before dress rehearsal).  And, if I modestly say so myself, it's impressive.   As usual, I have to show a picture of it fresh off the needles because knit lace looks so sad when it's freshly knitted--rather like old cheesecloth.  It's needs to be washed and seriously stretched before it looks glorious.  Maybe that's why I like knitting it--the final finishing is just rather magical.







 

 

 

The big compliment came second hand--I was told that when the director was reviewing the costumes and saw the shawl, he commented that he would have to be sure that the actress turned her back to the audience so it could be seen.  *Blush*

[note:  unlike the crazy shoulder panels, when the show is over I get this back!]

 

 

We have some new additions to our little family.  One of the hens has gone broody, and we didn't want to let her hatch eggs because there's a 50% chance that you'll get little roosters.  So we bought her some chicks from the feed store.  At least that was the plan.  Unlike another hen in the same situation a couple of years ago, who was a bit confused but quickly adopted the proffered chicks, this hen wanted nothing to do with them.  So now I'm being a chickie-momma.   Not that I mind--such cute little fluffballs.

 

 

 

And because Margo complains if I go too long without a cat picture, here's Nazgul.  He was a skinny shy feral who disappeared if we looked at him a few years ago.  Now he's decided that he enjoys the creature comforts of being An Owned Cat.

 

 

 

And I shall end with a ray of hope to those of you who live north of Florida:  Hang in there, everyone.  Spring is coming!

 







Spamalot!

Ah, the magic of Theatre.

Sometime in January I posted a picture of a sleeve that I knitted out of nylon cord.  Here it is again.

 

Not particularly impressive, I admit.  Even though it was more difficult to knit than it looks--heavy cord on big needles are just more work than my normal knitting.  All in all, I did four of these, and two shoulder panels.  A lot of work for something that doesn't look like much.

 

But dye them, and gild them, make them part of a costume, and put them under stage lights--and they look pretty good.

 





 

 

Likewise, here's my strange shaggy shoulder panels.  I did exaggerate when I said that after all my work they'd be on stage for all of 15 minutes.  It was more like five.  That's theatre for you.  (But don't they look good?)

 



Back at the costume shop, I was watching one of the designers working with a beautiful piece of color-changing taffeta in a gorgeous bronze-green color.  I remarked that it looked like a wet peacock.  I got strange looks.   I guess not many people have seen a peacock in the rain--their feathers get plastered down and take on a bronze/green hue instead of the usual peacock blue/turquoise.   So the next time it rained I took a closeup of a bird's back.

See?  A wet peacock *is* beautiful--so there!

Suprise Ingredient

Dear Bob,

Please do not buy chicken de-wormer in small beige pellet form, put them in the same type of recycled peanut-butter jar that we keep the roasted sunflower seeds in, and leave it on the kitchen counter.

Sorry about the salad.

Valentine's, and Other Days

February seems to be getting away from me.  Actually, the spring term in general has turned into a major game of catch-up.  I had my schedule fairly well planned, with my three part-time jobs:  On Mondays and Fridays I would work in the collection, Tuesdays and Thursdays would be in the costume shop, and Wednesdays at the museum.  The best laid schemes of mice and men . . . . .  

The problem is that the department also needed me to teach a textile lab (saying "no" wasn't really an option as the collection job probably would have gone away with it).  It's not difficult, but it does take 4-5 hours a week (2 to teach, the rest to prep, grade, and help train the other lab instructors).  It's just hard to wedge it all in.  Today, for example, I put in a couple of hours in the collection in the morning, worked at the museum in the middle of the day (including giving the opossum a manicure) and then back for the lab instructor meeting and training.  No wonder I'm tired when I get home!

Valentine's day was . . . different.  I worked, and Bob helped me.  The Museum had it's annual "Frolics of Florida" where I give a talk on weird animal mating habits and variations of body part designs (while keeping a straight face).  This is followed by a night walk of the zoo trail and more body part discussion.  It's actually a lot of fun, and a good fundraiser (30 people attended).  If you want an idea of the tone of the evening, watch "True Facts about the Angler Fish" on YouTube.

"Spamalot" has now opened (I'll be seeing it next week) so I'm through sewing/weaving for that.  Here's a sneak preview of the sample costume for the Knights of Ni with the shoulder panels that I wove.  (the real costume is gray felt with vines and leaves on it).

And Matt (the costume designer) made me a thank-you gift!  I was touched, especially considering how busy he was with this play.  He framed a drawing of his concept art for the Knights of Ni and added some collage and a thank-you note.  Such a personal gift--it promptly went into the Hall of Fame (our art gallery) (I tried taking a picture of it but the sketch doesn't show--rats).

Meanwhile, back at the theatre, we're sewing for Dangerous Liaisons.  My job so far has been to construct the humongous stiff petticoats that will hold out the skirts.  Each one is seven gradated layers of heavily gathered net--about 20 yards of net for each one.  Sewing this has been a real struggle--it takes a lot of effort to get it wedged under the sewing machine.  Sometimes I feel a little lost in there.

 

Yes, I'm in there somewhere.

 

Trying to get it all under the needle.  The elbows and shoulders get very sore.

If we turn it upside down, it makes a great cape

Does this petticoat make my butt look big?

 

 

and now--good night to all.



 

 



Ice!

Several years ago I was talking about gardening with visitor from Vermont.  I was giving my latest hint--if you have a problem with armadillos digging up your garden, just lay down some stock fencing on the ground before planting and the wire will discourage them.  "Armadillos?"  he said.  "That's very exotic."

I hadn't thought about them being exotic.  They're pretty common around here.

Ice, on the other hand, is exotic.  Not the tame stuff that comes from the freezer, but real wild outdoor ice.  It's just not something we see very often.  But last Wednesday we had an Ice Day (it was supposed to be a snow day but we were disappointed in that).  Schools were closed, and we got a free day off work.

The rest of the country probably thinks we're wimps.  Someone (from Colorado) sent a friend a cartoon of a glass cubes of ice tipped over on a sidewalk and a caption of "Oh Not!!  Close the Schools!"  They're probably right--after all, it was 30 degrees above zero.  But it was raining ice.  Yes, technically I know that it's called "sleet."  But in my mind, sleet also has snow involved, and I feel it should have wind.  This was just solid rain.  Raindrops on the bushes that didn't fall off, even if you shook them.  Rain that landed and didn't run off or soak in--just whitely lay there. If you walked outside, the raindrops bounced off of you instead of getting you wet.   Fascinating.

It was the sound effect that enchanted me.  A sort of crinkly sound, like being in a huge bowl of Rice Crispies.

 
 
 

So yeah--we were wimps.  Stayed home and lit the fire.  It was fun to look at the ice, but I was glad I didn't have to drive on it.  And it was gone before the novelty wore off (like by the next day).  Today we were back to normal--working in the garden in our T-shirts.

For a day, we liked the ice.  It was exotic.

Ice drops on bamboo

 

 

 

 

Grumpy puffed-u[ peacocks were not intrigued by the ice