Wedding Daze

A few months ago I posted a picture of my friend Gill's motorcycle with sidecar that she got in lieu of an engagement ring.  This last Friday she went a bit more traditional and got a diamond ring at her (and Jim's) wedding.

The wedding itself was not quite so traditional.  A small group gathered in the back yard, and the bride rode in on the motorcycle with the best man (Max) in the side car.    When the time came to exchange rings, Max dutifully did a "sit, stay" while his collar was taken off and the rings removed from the pouch. (I like how the shaft of sunlight is shining down on Gill, as though giving the Benediction for Above)

It was the sort of wedding I really enjoy.  Short, sweet, personal.  Small enough group that we all went out to dinner afterwards.

The reception, held the next day, was a little different  (and I forgot the camera).  Gill is usually a completely practical, down-to-earth sort of woman.  But (and I know she can read this) she went a little doolally for the reception, held at the museum, 200 guests.  For one--it was an English themed reception, which called for imported food.  Apparently no one in Tallahassee can bake a proper meat pie, so she and Jim had to drive to Orlando (about a 10-12 hour round trip) to pick up 300  meat pies (different flavors, from steak and Guiness to vegetarian to classic steak-and-kidney).  Kegs of Boddington's beer.  Ribena (black current syrup) and 7-up.  It was when the ice-cream truck drove up . . . .

There is a British treat called a "99" (costs 99 pence) which is a soft-serve cone with a stick of flakey chocolate.  Considering that 99 also just about described the temperature that day, it was quite popular.

So it was a bit over the top--but who wants under the top?   Congratulations, you two.  Love you both.

Dye Day

Still catching up, because this dye workshop was actually held on May 3.

It was different for a local workshop--because I wasn't teaching it  :-)    A dyer from Gainesville came up to visit friends and give the workshop.

Specifically, it was a mordant workshop.  Natural dyes won't attach themselves to yarn or fabrics very well without a mordant--from the Latin word meaning "to bite."  This workshop was to show how different mordants can affect the colors.  Actually, we were just using two--alum and iron, with different proportions of blends of the two.

The mordants were thickened and then painted onto the cloth--pure alum on one end, pure iron on the other, blends in between.   You can see the iron mordant easily, because it's another name for "really rusty water."

 

After the mordents dried (we used hair dryers, sometimes blowing a fuse at our hostess's house when we were all working at once) they were put into various dyepots (onion skins, cochineal [a bug] and lac [another bug] for a half hour.  Rinsed and dried, we could easily see the mordant effect.

For my final sample, I used an old wood printing block to print a design in the iron mordant, then used a Q-tip to dab alum around the print.  The final result needs isn't terribly inspiring, but it does show the possibilities.

This was just a few days after I got kitten Wilhelm, and I tried not to let him be a distraction by keeping his basket away from the activities.  Didn't work very well--he was often passed from person to person (alas, I didn't get pictures).  No problem with him being socialized.

But to show how even letting a couple of weeks get away from you will let things change a lot, here's Wilhelm taking a nap in my hands.

And here's our formerly itty-bitty chicks, now out in the chicken coop.

Road Trip!

Well . . . . the road trip was about two and a half weeks ago.  But nonetheless, we took a road trip, and it wasn't for a scale model show.  I was cruising the web about a month ago and saw that there was a fiber festival in Montgomery, Alabama at the end of April.  Montgomery isn't exactly next door--but neither is it across the country.  It's about a 4-hour drive away--just at the outer limit of what we'll do for a day trip.  But I haven't been out of town since August, and I haven't been to a fiber festival in three years (well--not quite.  There have been a couple of small alpaca festivals in town).  So I cajoled Bob, and with the promise of barbeque we hit the road.  He even took Friday off so we wouldn't have to go on a busy Saturday.

It was a little tricky finding the festival.  Montgomery apparently saves money by not having road signs, so we took a few side trips.  The fairgrounds also didn't have a sign, nor did it post its address anywhere.  So there was another bypass and turnaround and we decided the large coliseum building was probably it.  There wasn't . . . um . . much going on.  The coliseum was empty.  We walked around back and there was some other buildings--still no signs.  I was starting to apologize to Bob when we walked into one and voila!  Fiber Festival!

Not huge, but big enough.  While it is possible to order fiber through the mail, you never know what you're going to get.  Fiber is tactile--you not only see it but feel it, letting it slip between your fingers.  It satisfies the hunter-gatherer need that no click of the mouse can.  And being as we had driven all that way, I had to buy enough to make the trip worthwhile, right?

And there were some cute animals, of course.  At first I thought the green bunny had just been in the humid south for too long, but it turned out to be food coloring (there was an orange and a pink one also--the owner had let her grandkids dye them for Easter).  And some alpacas that just looked silly after being sheared.

And there was the fiber.  This show was small enough that I could shop the way that I like--go around and look at everything, then go back around a second time and gather.  So here's my swag:

A blend of camel down and silk.  As always, pictures don't do justice.  This looks (and feels!) like caramel whipped cream and I just want to roll around in it.

This is a merino/tencel (a type of rayon) blend.  Soft and shiny--and a gradient muddy green.  I love mud greens--olive, khaki.  I keep thinking I'll break away, and it keeps being the first color I reach for.  The woman who dyed this said the inspiration was pond scum--but she couldn't call it "Pond Scum" so it's officially "Asparagus."  Personally, I like Pond Scum.

 

 

This is bamboo (rayon made from bamboo).  Again, soft and shiny (when it comes to fiber I'm part magpie).  I love the copper color.

This is an alpaca/wool blend from Chasing Rainbows dyeworks.  She does amazing colors.  I purposely put down the muddy green rovings (that's what combed fiber is called) and got some red (but it's a shade that will go nicely with green . . .)

 

And just for fun, some sari silk.  This comes from sari factories--to be honest, it's probably floor sweepings.  All the leftover silk thread is heavily carded to break it back down into fiber.  It will make a lumpy-bumpy yarn, but it's still silk and it's colorful.

 

 

 

And finally, a tool that I didn't need.  When you're measuring your yarn, it's done as "wraps per inch" (WPI).  Wrapping it around a ruler works just fine.  But some woodworkers make  WPI tools--a turned piece of wood with an inch-long indentation in it.  As I said--a ruler works just as well.  But look at this wood--silver spalted maple.  Just so beautiful.  And it feels nice.

And what will I do with all this?  Put it in the stash.  I have now reached a condition called "SABLE" - Stash Acquisition Beyond Life Expectancy.  It will be admired, and fondled, and samples spun.  And maybe it will get spun and turned into something--or not.  I'm rather like a miser who enjoys playing with his pretty gold coins more that he would buying anything with them.  I have luxury literally at my fingertips.  My precious  . . .

Back to reality--Bob was promised barbeque on the way home.  We had passed a likely possibility on our way to the festival.  There are hints about a place that good barbeque will be found inside.   It should look a bit lived-in (a nice way of saying slightly run-down), and there should be a patriotic saying somewhere (note the "We Support Our Troops on the wall).

 

 

There should be a happy pig somewhere:

And it should be world famous.

And when we walked in, the waitress had big hair, called us "Honey," and all the side dishes except for the cole slaw were deep fried.  It met expectations--the ribs just sort of slid off the bones, and the corn nuggets and fried okra were crunchy on the outside, tender on the inside.

And we got home safe and sound.  And a week later we got tiny Wilhem, who is looking oddly mature in this picture--a hint of the fine cat he will become (but not yet--it's time for his bottle).

It's Wilhelm!

The new kitten went through a few potential names.  We really wanted to call him Prospero (as in "The Tempest").  But it just didn't stick.  We auditioned a few others (He was almost Stormageddon).    He is now Wilhelm.  The rationale is a little circuitous but here goes:

Think of any movie/TV show where there's a certain amount of chaos--say, a car goes out of control and crashes into an alley, and among the crashing of garbage cans and breaking glass there will be a cat's indignant "yrowl!"  The new kitten is very good at making that exact sound--good set of lungs for such a little guy.

Now think of any movie/TV show where someone gets shot off of a horse, or thrown out a window, or falls off a cliff.  There is very characteristic scream--so much so that it has it's own name--directors can just annotate a script with "Wilhelm scream here".  Listen to the "Wilhelm Scream Compilation" on youtube if you want to see how ubiquitous it is.

So by extrapolation, the cat "yrowl" is called a "Cat Wilhelm".

Told you it was circuitous.

It's hard to take pictures--he's a moving target.

And he keeps up his energy by being very focused when it comes to mealtime.

I have to enjoy this extreme cuteness while it lasts--he's growing so fast.  He was 10 ounces when we got him last Wednesday.  A week later and he's up to 15!

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!