Day 2 of Pickling/Preserving, and a Trip to the ER

The bounty of the day!

With the few good fingers I have left on my right hand (two), I begin my post. Aaaaand there's already blood on the trackpad. (sigh) Time to change the fingertip bandage on the thumb again. BRB.

Today is another canning day for me. I still say "is" as I have 10 lbs of cucumbers and 1 pint of morels sliced, resting in salt, and ready to pickle in the next hour and a half. I am running late because my day was unfortunately interrupted due to an accident with the mandoline. More on that later.

The day started with rhubarb chutney. About 30 minutes into cooking the chutney it became apparent that you can't make rhubarb chutney from frozen rhubarb as it has very little structural integrity to start with so maintaining a good structure is an impossibility. So I called Dave over to get his opinion. First thing he did was stick his finger in the pot and taste it--something I had not bothered to do yet. "Yum", he said. "I can taste this on a pork tenderloin."

"So, sauce?", I responded.

"Oh yeah", he said. Then we went back and forth a bit on how much more it should reduce, whether I should strain it or leave the vestiges of rhubarb, onion, raisin, and spices in it. The decision was leave in, and thicken a bit more. I ended up with three pints and 7 half-pints of incredible rhubarb chutney sauce that sealed perfectly after canning. Then I moved on to the rhubarb syrup. That was a genius move as I am--post ER and six stitches--enjoying a rhubarb sour made from Bulleit rye, lemon juice and some of the afore-mentioned rhubarb syrup. I only got two pints of the syrup from about two lbs of rhubarb, and it's pretty thin, but boy is it yummy! One pint has already been cracked open and put in the fridge after we used the left-over two ounces for the first two sours. But I'm getting ahead pf myself...

After the syrup, it was after noon and time for the cucumber pickles. My goal was a double batch of bread and butter slices and a double batch of garlic dill spears--16 pints total. Oh, and one pint of pickled morels that didn't get used up in the beef stroganoff last week. It being Sunday, Dave had a hankering to take in a movie. When he asked if I'd mind if he went to a matinee of The Incredibles 2, I assured him I wouldn't (we all saw it on opening day, he just wanted to go again), but I did ask him if he would mind walking down and I would pick him up after in case I needed to run to the store in mid pickle. Boy was that a serendipitous choice!

So Dave left and I started slicing pickles. I was lamenting not having a wavy pickle slicer when I glanced over and saw my mom's old mandoline. "Well" I thought, "At least I can have perfectly sized 1/4" slices." And thus, like Alice, I fell down the slippery slope to the rabbit hole. Dave had said many times in the past how dangerous mandolines were and how he'd be happy to check me out on it if'n I wanted to use it. "How hard could it be?" I mused. It was surprisingly easy! In fact it was so sharp that I thought I wasn't pushing down hard enough and the cucumber was just sliding over the top of the blade. When I looked underneath and saw the perfect little 1/4" slices I was very happy and started slicing back and forth really fast, congratulating myself on how efficient I was and how I was goig to show Dave the great job I did with the mandoline... and as quick as that I knew I had gone right through my finger with the preceding slice. I looked at the blood welling from the top right side of my ring finger and the flat spot where there used to be tip...

But I'm good in a crisis. I washed it off, covered it in paper towels and lifted the mandoline to retrieve the missing part. There it was, a slice with a good bit of fingernail still attached. That's how sharp the mandoline it: I went right through 1/4" long section of fingernail without even slowing down. I picked it up, put it sloppily back on the end of my finger, and thought about what I should do next. Should I just bandage it tightly on and hope it grew back together, or should I go to the ER to see if they would sew it back on? In the end I opted for the ER. I also opted for not calling Dave as I reasoned there was nothing he could do other than be stressed and wait, and he might as well enjoy the movie and I would pick him up and he would see me again when everything was fine. In hindsight that was a bad choice and what he was most upset about. (We live five blocks (1/2 mile) from the hospital and it's only another 10 blocks to the movie theatre.)

My fingertip sewed back on

It was a busy day in the Polson ER, but I didn't have a long wait before the doctor came in, shot up my finger with novocaine, and had me wash it. I was fine until then. But when she had me walk to the sink and scrub my hand and stump (okay, long stump--I didn't lose that much!), I got hot, nauseated and light-headed and had to lie down. In my defense, I had eaten anything all day and it was A LOT of blood (and gore. Think the slices of people that they have in the Museum of Science and Industry in Hyde Park in Chicago...) The doctor finished cleaning the finger up and then sewed the tip back on with six stitches. I didn't feel a thing. She said the nail bit would fall off on its own and she didn't want to pry it off .When she was done she said to take ibuprofen for the pain, then the nurse bandaged me up, gave me a tetanus shot with a whooping cough vaccine in it, and they sent me on my merry way.

When I got home I still had half an hour before I had to go get Dave from the movies so I thought I would finish the pickles. The first step was to wash the mandoline--not to use it, mind you. I had already decided to use a knife for the rest of the cutting--perfection be damned. However when I turned it upside down I saw that there was blade storage underneath, and in it was a wavy pickle blade! I could not resist. I gave in to the temptation and switched out the blades vowing to be VERY CAREFUL and to go slowly. That mostly worked out for me. I say "mostly" because when I was almost at the end of the cucs, my hand slipped and I rammed my thumb and middle finger into the blade. I didn't cut through or slice off anything so I just bandaged the fingers up, washed the mandoline off again, and calmly cut the rest of the cucs. When I was done I washed the mandoline, salted and refrigerated the cucs, and headed off to get Dave.

After taking the bandaids off
the index and thumb

When we got home I (against his wishes) cut the remaining cucumbers up into spears for garlic dills and salted and refrigerated them. I didn't take any pain reliever in pill form, but Dave did make me a rhubarb sour from the extra rhubarb syrup that didn't fit into the jars to can (as noted above). He had one too (probably to steady his nerves--a side effect of being married to me) and they were so good that we opened one of the jars of rhubarb syrup so we could each have another!

After dinner I made the brine and jarred up the pickles before processing them (and the lone jar of morels) in hot water baths. Now it's after 11, I am still not in pain, and I am toddling off to bed for a well-deserved rest. Oh, and I've decided what to call my pickles: Brenda's Bloody Good Pickles!

Day 1 of Pickling/Preserving (Hot Water Bath Method)

The cat, neglected all day,
camps on my chest as I write.

I have just spent the past nine hours, more or less, reviewing my pickling recipes and plans, doing the last shopping, and making pickles, and now I'm beat! As I post, I listen to the satisfying pinging of the lids as they sea to the jars, and I try not to dislodge the cat on my chest. I last made pickles when I was 17 and I remember making quarts and quarts of garlic dills. Today I made four pints of pickled beets, one pint of pickled carrots, one pint of pickled beets and carrots, and three less-than successful half-pints of pickled strawberries. I can already tell the strawberries were less than successful because when I look at the jars I see mostly liquid with a few berries floating on top. Looks like my berries pretty much disintegrated. But I bet the liquid in them will make some interesting cocktails!

All the recipe books and web recipes

The main reason it took me so long to make so little is that I just couldn't settle on recipes. Last time I used my mother and grandmother's garlic dill recipe and that was that. No fussing about which spices to use in my pickling spice, which vinegar to use, which sugar and how much. Today was just fraught. At least three times I picked a recipe that really looked good and made it all the way till the final review before noticing that it was a refrigerator pickle recipe. I don't want refrigerator pickles. I want hot-water-bath processed pickles that will last a year or so. Unfortunately recipes that fit that criterion also specifically written for carrots, beets and strawberries aren't thick on the ground. But as Dave (and his t-shirt) like to say: I improvised, I adapted, I overcame. (Really, he has that on a t-shirt now).

My first pass at pickling spice

The biggest challenge came after I got all the jars full of produce and brine and I couldn't get the hot water bath to boil! We have a Jenn-Air range with one of those flat electric tops up here in Polson, and I don't think it made enough contact with the bottom of the huge canning pot for the water to boil. So in the middle of canning I made an emergency trip to Walmart to get a smaller stock pot for the hot water bath. When I got home Dave remarked that I could also use the gas burner with the propane tank on the back deck... The stainless stock pots I got at Walmart will make nice dye pots. I used the canning rig on the gas burner--just like my mom, grandmother and grandfather used to do.

Results from Day 1

Tomorrow I will make traditional garlic dill and bread and butter pickles, pickled morels, and a whopping big batch of rhubarb chutney. I hope it to get a better showing in output than I did today!

The Child is Traveling

Inside the C'mon Inn

Just back from Missoula after seeing the child off to Atlanta for two weeks. Because her flight was at 6:15 this morning, we stayed overnight at the C'mon Inn (as it is Jessie's favorite for the indoor pool, multiple hot tubs, and overall cool decor--it's also close to the airport and we had a two-room suite) and I took her to the airport this morning.

I swear I must be flagged by Missoula TSA. Last time I was taking Jessie to the plane there I got into a "discussion" with the person checking id's as there was only one person checking ids and there were probably nine people standing around by the luggage carrier and the screening machine all doing basically nothing. Meanwhile there were two long lines of people--one TSA pre-check--which J was not, and one regular, waiting to get through the id checkpoint. As long as there was anyone in the pre-check line they got to go in front of the non-TSA line--even if they just walked up to the line. After watching person after person get to walk up and go in front of our line, I finally asked to talk to a supervisor. Nothing happened other than more "discussion", but that's how things go.

The old and the new in downtown Missoula

So that was last time. This time we waited in the ticket counter line for over 20 minutes (just to drop off baggage--we had already checked in) because for some reason everyone who checked in at the kiosks then had to go through the main line and check in again. And there were only two agents. Today I kept my cool figuring they would just have to hold the plane if they ran late checking us all in. We were the last ones checked through before they closed the counter as it took our agent awhile to print me out a pass to go to the gate with J. You'd think I would have learned my lesson from last time. Don't go to the gate!

Missoula has special crossing signs

We got to the id checkpoint and sailed through. We took off our shoes, and placed everything in bins. I had been careful not to wear one of my Holy Clothing dresses because even if that's all I'm wearing (I know, TMI) it always sets off the photo machine thingie where you have to stand with your hands up and then they have to pat me down. This happened to me so many times that I got a known-traveler number just to be able to always have TSA pre-check and avoid those scanners.

The baleful moose

But you don't get to use your KT number when you're not traveling, so I wore knit capris and a tank top. Even so the scanner saw something in my "groin area" so they had to pat me down. Then they tested my hands for explosive's residue and... THAT scan came back positive! (WTH?) At this point I told Jessie to just go on up to her plane as I had no idea how long the rest of it was going to take (they offered to take me to a private room for the next part, I refused). Then another person gave me a REALLY thorough pat down followed by a detailed examination of the contents of my purse (wallet, phone, keys) and a wipe down of my phone to check it for residue. I held it together, remained quiet and polite (mostly), but this procedure really makes me come unspooled and it happens to me all the time! Luckily I did get up to the gate in time to give Jessie a hug and a kiss and to see her off. She was the last one on the plane and they closed the gate behind her.

Goodies from the farmer's market

When I left the airport I stopped by the Starbucks across from the motel for a venti iced latte. There were--no kidding--five sheriff's cars in the parking lot at 6:15 am. The girl at the window said they come there every day at the end of their shift. So if you're ever in Missoula at 6:00 am and you need to go somewhere really safe, hit up the Starbucks on Reserve and I-90. After grabbing my latte, I hied myself back to the motel for a couple more hours of sleep snuggled in with my warm, snoozy spouse.

One of the hanging baskets

I had been looking forward all week to going to the Missoula Farmer's market, but it was cloudy and damp when I took J to the airport and actively raining when Dave and I got up. I went back and forth on should we stay or should we go (we didn't have jackets or umbrellas), but decided in the end that we are hardy folk and don't need no stinking umbrella's. Off we went to the Old Post for breakfast with Steve Adler. Above our table was the obligatory moose and he gave me the stink eye all through breakfast.

Hanging basket and other flowers

When we were done, we hit up the liquor store and then headed to the farmer's market. It is worth noting that Montana is an interesting state when it comes to liquor stores. While you can buy packaged liquor at bars and some stores, it is all distributed to the bars and package stores through the state-run liquor stores so you can only buy what the state decides to carry. It's great if you're looking for a local huckleberry liqueur or spiced gin (we have a plethora of western Montana distilleries), but if you want Luxardo sangue morlacco or Creme de Violette, you're out of luck. I'm just going to have to see if I can get some of our upcoming visitors to bring us some.

Anyway, at the market we bought by a pound of lovely, fresh, morel mushrooms, little carrots, tiny cukes, red bibb and oak leaf lettuces, colorful little heirloom tomatoes, and local chorizo and brats (not children, German-style sausages). I even got a few purple and sweet basil plants for the garden. All this was after going to the Polson Farmer's Market yesterday and loading up on hanging baskets and flowers for the deck (already planted, thank you very much).

Tonight we are having our neighbor Arlene over for dinner. Dave is going to make beef stroganoff with the shrooms, we're going to have Kir Ursine (like Kir Royale but with huckleberry liqueur and sparkling wine) with a smoked salmon dip made from local sockeye salmon to start, and strawberry sabayon for dessert.

Speaking of food, it is the summer of the preserve for me! I am going to make small-batch pickles of various vegetables, and preserves, compotes, jams, and chutneys from the bounty of the local markets.

Epiphany

Some of the yarn spun from the various breeds I've processed

Last winter (not this past winter but the winter before) I took the first level of the Master Spinner program through Olds College in Alberta. I took it off-campus at Spry Whimsy in Stoughton, WI and am very much looking forward to taking the level two class there in October. I was supposed to have my coursework for level one finished and in to my instructor for grading this past February (one year after the class was held). I failed. I failed so utterly and completely that I failed to do anything other than buy fleece (because I love to shop) by February. So I applied for and received an extension till the end of June. The end of June is hurtling towards me, and I *could* get everything done. It would cost me (and by extension my family in terms of my time and attention), but I could finish. And I have been working hard to do so.

Earlier this week I was chatting on Facebook with another woman from my class who is also pushing till the last minute (though for much better reasons than mine), and she made the comment that if I am running short on time I should pick and choose what I can get done. After all, I only need to PASS. So I sat down this afternoon and I figured out how many points are assigned to each section, where I am on each of them, and what I need to do to PASS. What interests me most in the course (almost entirely) is the spinning, and I have that all but done. With one more day spent writing, I could have over 50% (passing) of the coursework done and send it in for grading without even having to do the natural dyeing section or the final project. I could even get those done by the end of next week if I wanted to.

In the spirit of winnowing, I also looked at the various sections and picked out three that I would definitely skip as they are writing only and I don't even WANT to do them--yes, I could regurgitate the facts in my own words, but why? And as I sat working through everything, I flashed back to what Jessie and Zaga have both been asking me for the past two months as I have fretted over the deadline: WHY? Why am I doing this? My answer to them was because I want to. I am taking these courses because I want to learn. Because I want to increase my proficiency in spinning to where I feel that I am a Master Spinner. But do I need to turn in the homework to get someone else's validation in order for that feeling to occur? This past week I have been finding myself cutting corners and doing the work "well enough" to get a decent grade. But the end goal for me is not and has never been a grade! I am not competing against my classmates and other people in the program to see who can get the best score or a perfect score. The only person I want to please is myself, and I am pleasing me by the acquisition of knowledge.

So why I am doing the coursework to turn in? Why not use what I learned from the course as the basis for my own ongoing breed study binder and the beginning of a natural dye book? Why not make myself samples of worsted and woolen and identify the qualities of the different parts of a sheep's fleece and record information on them for a later benefit to me? Why think about/work towards on the grade AT ALL? I know, it's blindingly obvious to you, but it was quite an epiphany to me!

Tomorrow I am going to call Olds College and inform them that I want to audit the course. Auditing costs the same as taking for credit, and I don't get a certificate at the end. BFD. I am not doing this for the certificate. Then I will continue with the work I have been doing on the qualities of the the fleeces of various sheep breeds. I will have a natural dye day or two. I will process all the different kinds of sheep fleece that I bought (and brought to Montana) but didn't do because I didn't need them for the course because they only wanted 10 and I got 20. Now the breeds I have will be a foundation for working with ALL the breeds (that a girl! I have always been an I-must-have-all-the-colors crayon user).

Deep breath in, deep breath out. I have the answers to at least one of life's questions.

Big Sky Country!

First view of Flathead Lake this summer.

Dave drove from Missoula to Polson so I got to take pictures
 out the window of the mountains in the evening light.

Back on May 17th I started a post and never got it finished. I begin today's musings with that post snippet as it serves to highlight just how much has changed for usin the past three weeks!

Driving through Polson along the lake our first evening back

"It's a balmy, hot day scouring wool for me. I'm in the wet studio at the house (aka the greenhouse) and I have the door to the outside--where it is 91 degrees F--wide open. Inside the studio it's 96 degrees in the shade. But I'm not working in the shade. I am smack dab in the middle of the room in bright sunny sun. Even the glass studio is cooler than the wet studio today. But I have to get these fleece samples all scoured and set out to dry today so I can sort and scour a whole fleece tomorrow. I hope I've processed enough of each of the samples. I didn't want to do it all as I might need more raw fleece for another one of the projects, and I only have to spin 20 yds from each sample. That's not very much to spin, but I also have to spin enough to weave two samples on a pin loom. Guess I had better spin up a test fiber to see how much I really need for 20 yds and the tow little woven pieces..."

In the weeks following that post the temperatures climbed higher and higher and stayed there. By the first of June we had already had 100 degree days and nights where it didn't get below 74. Welcome to Austin in the summer. Then one week ago we (the Griffiths) went through a total reset. Today marks the end of our first week in Montana and so much more has changed than just the weather--though that's dramatic enough on its own. No more 100-degree Austin days: It has been sunny and warm all week in Polson (till today) with days in the 70s and nights in the 40s. Ahh to snuggle under the down comforter again! It's been very hard to get up in the mornings. By the time we left Austin I was getting up at 6:30 or 7:00 so I could work outside and beat the heat.

Fresh snow in the mountains this morning

This morning when we woke it was 48 with a high expected of 55. There was fresh snow on the mountains and a nippy wind blowing through town. Dave and I took advantage of the coolness to walk down to our local coffee shop: Blodgett's Creamery and Coffee Saloon. It's three miles round trip, down hill on the way and uphill on the way back. (Not, as legend would have it, barefoot in the snow up hill both ways!) There are two photos on the wall of the coffee shop taken by my great grandfather, RH McKay. Only one of them is dated, but it is 96 years old.

Photo of the lake by my great grandfather in 1922

Photo of Polson taken by my great grandfather--not sure of the year

The front garden is in serious
 need of weeding

Now I'm cozy on the couch under a blanket and posting before putting a piece in the kiln and getting back to my spinning coursework. This week I need to start weeding the garden, plan the restaining of the front and back decks, begin cleaning out the garage and the back patio and getting the last of my things out of the metal building up at the lake property. While there are no bees and is no pond here, my routine is pretty much exactly what it would be if I were still in Austin--and I have no less to do. But it feels totally different! There is a huge break caused by the exhausting two-day drive up and the total relocation of household. It's still a household, and thus it's still a lot of work, but somehow it feels like starting from scratch with no backlog, no baggage, no stressors. Time stretches expansively in front of me--just like it did two years ago when I moved to Austin. There is something awesome and liberating associated with this not-vacation travel. Like on vacation, time slows to a crawl and it feels like you exist in a vacuum.

Then there are also the beautiful surroundings. Austin is lovely and our house there is beyond wonderful, but I am a mountain girl at heart and it makes said organ sing to be back in the midst of them again. I won't miss the cold and snow of winter here, but there is no place better in the summer. That said, I wish I had had the plumber verify the connections for the propane stoves upstairs and down so we could have some heat today, but my blanket is cozy and we have a space heater. And there are martinis, albeit in wine glasses...

The Hiatus is Over

It's been a considerable time since I've posted. Then this past week I traveled with a good friend who likes to read my posts and always comments on them and he got me thinking about starting up again. Then today, out of the blue, another friend texts me to say that she misses my daily posts and asks if I have any plans to start up again. Yes! Yes, I say! Let's jump back into the whirlwind! This post is going to be kind of all over the place as I stream-of-consciousness my way back into posting so hang on tight.

Life is, indeed, a whirlwind right now. The image at right shows my to do lists for today and the rest of the week. Everything in the Today column was completed save for setting up the fleece sorting area and beginning to process the fleece. Whew! Not only are we preparing for the annual summer exodus to Montana, but I also have one month to finish the Level One Master Spinner coursework and send it in for grading. In order to finish it I need to (shameful admission) start it... It's also the end of gardening season in Austin (I can't work in the garden when it's over 80 so early mornings and evenings are it now) and the weeds are busting out all over.

I still have the automatic watering system to set up in the garden beds, plants to get in the ground, weeds to get out of the ground, and mulch to succor the plants and defend against the weeds. (I really wanted to use the word "excoriate" in that last sentence. I don't know why. I have never used the word before, but it popped into my head and wanted out. I even managed to spell it correctly on the first go. But when I looked it up [I often think of words with which I have only a glancing acquaintanceship], it means to criticize or skin (isn't it a great word?) and can in no way be associated with mulch. Unless you have really snarky mulch, which I don't.)

Don't even get me started on the pond! I have the entire filtration system to rebuild and an auto-fill system to set-up--not to mention the automatic feeder for the fish. And then there are the bees. I have two hives and Zaga has one. They are all going gangbusters and I can actually see getting some honey out of them this year. I inspected the hives today and they are bursting with nectar and brood. I almost thought I shouldn't feed them because of all the nectar, but I went ahead as they're popping out babies as fast as they can and I want to make sure they have enough to feed them.

A couple of weeks ago I had a REALLY bad day and had a woman back out of a parking spot at Walgreen's into the side of my Odyssey. It was an opera worthy of Wagner, and we ended up all waiting over an hour in the rain for the police to show up. Now today I finally get to take my car in to start the process of getting it fixed, and the bodyshop can get me in Monday--but the need the car for at least ten days as it's a "really intensive labor process". I guess so. Unfortunately, they can't guarantee to be done before we leave for Montana so it's not getting fixed before we go. What a hassle!!

Other exciting news of the past few months is I have lost 21 lbs! I even won a month-long biggest loser competition at my gym. I'm hoping to take up regular swimming in Montana this summer (both in the lake and at the aquatic center) so I can keep going down.

Now, as so often happens when I post, my eyelids are beginning to droop, and I yearn to snuggle up in bed and drift off to sleep till morning when it will be time for a piano lesson, a workout, and lunch with Zaga, followed by a lot of wool scouring and a little glass work. Life is Good.

I Have Been Doing!

Sometimes you think about doing something. Sometimes you write about it. This past week I have been doing it. I have five projects in five different disciplines in progress and it feels GREAT! I also continue working weekly in a sixth discipline with a steady stream of projects coming from it. No, I haven't put my tax stuff together for our accountant yet. No, I haven't worked on my website or inventoried my extra glass studio materials preparatory to putting them up for sale online. No, I haven't done more than spot cleaning on the house in, oh, forever. But I am creating! This post is a celebratory drive-by of the creative fruits of my... fingers.

It's Sunday night, the wind is howling outside and the wind chimes practically have a symphony going on. Dave and Jessie have both gone to bed, and I'm sitting on the couch, rubbing my hands together and chortling at all the piles of creation nestled throughout the house (and car--all my wood lives in the minivan between Saturday woodworking classes).

The oldest continuously worked project is my spinning mash-up. In addition to the three bobbins on the table and the two spinning wheels with half-plus filled bobbins, I also have a good amount of plied yarn that I began knitting into a sweater earlier in the winter. I'm going to tink (unknit or knit backwards) the sweater and skein the yarn back up till I find the project I want to make with it. I still haven't found one that matched the yarn perfectly so I just keep on spinning.

Moving on through the fiber projects, I have finally finished warping the little table loom I got at spin-in (and correcting mistakes in it, and correcting again, and again...) and I have begun weaving dishtowels. I don't know why, but I am completely taken with cotton dishtowels right now, and as Mimi is an eight-harness loom, I am able to do several complicated pinwheel patterns all from the same warp. The first one has brown and white bands in the warp and the weft that make up the pinwheel pattern. As is the nature of weaving, all the dishtowels from this warp will have brown and white pattern stripes vertically, but I'm planning to swap out the brown for seven other colors for the rest. The dishcloths will measure about 16" wide by 18" long when they're finished.

The last of the fiber projects is a five ft by five-and-a-half ft fuzzy blanket I am making on a knitting board for Jessie. This project, like spinning, is a great in-front-of-the-tv activity. I started it last night while we were watching the Incredibles, and I worked on it for about another half hour this evening. Jessie picked the colors and is really looking forward to having it. I knitted her a similar one a year or so ago with traditional knitting needles... or maybe I crocheted it. I don't remember. Anyhoo, that one had a wide-open lacy pattern and this one--per Jessie's request--will be pretty solid.

Last week I also started back on the silver locket from the intermediate silversmithing class I took, and I tube set my first stone (the topaz--Jessie's birthstone). This week I hope to finish it by riveting the little silver stamped plaque inside, and tube setting the last two stones--sapphires from Montana. One of them is one I mined, and it's going to go into the remaining large tube (sapphire is Dave's birthstone). The other one is a tiny stone that will go into the little tube on the front of the locket. The blackish rainbow color of the metal is from liver of sulphur. I dipped it last week during open studio, and I'm still trying to decide if I like it.

Finally, I took a big step towards finishing the gaming table yesterday. It was a long, laborious, tiring activity, but I used the bandsaw to cut all the channels for the bridle joints at the top corners of the table, and dry-fitted them together. Next weekend is the glue-up for the top, and finishing the legs so I can do the mortises and tenons for the table apron. These pictures all show the curly pecan top rails of the table. Two of them show the bridle joints in the corners when they're together, and the other one shows the channels I cut for the joint. Right now they all protrude a quarter of an inch from each side and have sharp edges. The edges will be rounded down and maybe even shortened a bit when it's finished.

The final discipline is ceramics, and I swear my wheel-throwing is just improving by leaps and bounds! This past class I threw a pot similar to the leftmost one in the photo. Then I made two fitted lids for it. Jennifer, our instructor, recommends always throwing two lids in case one doesn't work out. When the vessel is bisque-fired, it'll have the lid in it to help prevent warping and uneven shrinking between the parts. Also new in my repertoire is the drinking glass in the middle of the photo. It's not huge, but it's the tallest cylinder I've thrown to date. Looking forward to trying a teapot this week.

Now off to join my dulcetly snoring spouse. Tomorrow, taxes. And feeding the bees. And working out. And weaving, and knitting, and spinning...

The Same Day Over and Over Again

It's cold, it's grey, and it's been a long time since I've posted so I'm staying tucked under the down comforter for awhile blogging until the house warms up. We watched Groundhog Day last weekend and it just occurred to me that the day Phil Connors had to live over and over again for more than eight years was a day just like today ... I would have gone mad. Everything I do is based on time and continuity and almost nothing is completed in a day. Think about it. If everything starts over each day, projects would reset and couldn't be continued. Whatever I put into the kiln would be gone. If I got the loom warped, it would be empty the next day. Even if I did manage to finish something, it would be back in its original pieces the next day. Gah! What a horrible thought! Well, except for ceramics. I'd become a lot better throwing clay if I just practiced and wasn't focused on a finished piece. Of course I'd never learn anything about glazing at all since I'd never get tp see a piece come out of the kiln.

There is nothing to do in the garden in February--and even if there were, how depressing would it be to weed the beds and find all the weeds back the next day! Any renovations to the house would also disappear by the next day. I'd have to change everything I love to do. On the plus side, the house would never get dirtier (or course it wouldn't get any cleaner either). I'd know exactly where Baxter was going to pee at any given time and be able to get him outside first so I'd never have to clean that up again.

So if I had one day to live over and over again, how would I spend it? Could I work out and get completely into shape? Considering that Phil destroyed his body several times and it came back undamaged and unchanged the next day, probably not. He was able to learn the piano though, which requires building muscle memory. Hmmm. That piece of continuity is a little bit squiffy. And at the end of eight years for me it would only be a day for everyone else so I'd have to look physically the same. So what _would_ I do?

Well, I could read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies. I could become fluent again in French. I could learn Japanese and Arabic and renew my relationship with Russian. Oooh, I could start saxophone and zoom ahead in piano! I could master making bread! That's it! Eight years of the same day over and over again is all about practice. It's about infinite resources and do overs. It's not about completing anything. Instead, it's about the journey.

So what makes it different, really, from eight years of real life? Don't some people say life is about the journey, not the destination? Well for one thing, in life there are consequences to your choices in the journey--just like there are endings to the projects. I skipped over all the doing-stupid-stuff-for-fun-because-there-are-no-consequences things because while they might be entertaining for a little while, they'd get boring fast. In life there isn't infinite time: Any things you choose to do mean things you don't get to choose. Life is a lot of this OR that, not this AND that. In life there are chores, all the pesky little things like housework, taxes, doctor's appointments, and such that keep you from spending all your time learning and practicing.

And real life has now intruded on my musings requiring me to get out from under the warm covers and go work out. Japanese, Arabic, and saxophone are going to have to wait.

Days, a Week, and Energy

I love Sunday night. The previous week has ended and everything gets to start anew Monday morning. I don't really have a concept of weekend vs. weekday anymore. I realize that for Dave and Jessie there is a clear distinction between the two, but all days have the same potential for amazing fun and adventure for me. The time segment of a week still exists, and individual days mean different things: Monday and Wednesday are workout days, Wednesday also has a piano lesson, Thursday has ceramics class, now Saturday has an informal furniture-making/woodworking class, and Sunday night is time to bask in the plans for a new week, but weekday and weekend not so much.

I used to hate Sunday nights. When we first moved to Austin in '98, I was working as a software engineer for Business Objects and I traveled every week to client sites. I flew out Monday morning, flew home Friday evening, and cried every Sunday afternoon in dread of the upcoming week. Now it's Jessie's turn. I watch her withdraw and get blue starting Sunday afternoon/evening. I wish there were something I could do for her to make it better, but this is one of those things she's going to have to figure out on her own.

This week I have noticed something else about Sunday: it's the day when my energy is the lowest in the week. Last Monday I did my first B12 injection myself and it was an incredible day. Tuesday and Wednesday I felt like I had more energy than usual, and Thursday I was back to normal. Friday, however,  I started falling asleep whenever I sat for any length of time, and today I got up late, took a nap in the car, and another one later in the afternoon. I have no doubt that I'll go right to sleep tonight. I wish the B12 was more time release--or that I took injections more often!

I mentioned above that I'm taking an informal furniture-making/woodworking class on Saturday. Yesterday was my first one, and I prepared for it by finishing my games table design Thursday night and then going down to purchase wood at Berdoll Sawmill on Friday afternoon. Last summer I went to Dupuis Lumber in Polson for the blue pine slabs and rough sawn lumber for a bed and desk. I loved it there and never thought I would find anything like it in Austin, and then I found Berdoll! They specialize in sustainable native Texas hardwood natural edge slabs. The picture of their staff at right was taken next to a set of walnut slabs from one tree.

For the games table, I chose an 8" wide 8/4 board of curly pecan, another 8/4 pecan board for the legs, and some 8/4 mesquite for the apron and accents for the legs. I'll use maple plywood for the top and the bottom. While I was there I lusted after the mesquite slab at the top left of this post. It's 93" tall and 63" wide, and I think it would make the most incredible corner desk! There was a desk in their office that was also made from a slab and I was impressed by the artistry of the edges. In one place there should have been a cut edge, but instead it looked like it had been wind and water sculpted. I asked about it and was told it had been carved to look like that. Maybe if they still have the mesquite slab I like when I finish the games table, the liquor cabinet/bar, and the bed...

So Many Things

Tonight's moon

There are so many topics clamoring to be written about tonight! It's been a week since I last wrote, and it was a full one. The time in Destin on the hand spinning retreat was magical: full of friends, fiber, and dirty martinis with three olives. Since I've been back the weather has been warm so today I puttered with the bees a bit, started cleaning the pond, and took the dogs to the dog park. Yesterday afternoon I played hooky with Dave, and I worked out Monday and today. Though I haven't been as thorough as I might have been entering all my food data into My Fitness Pal, I have eaten well all week. Piano has also been played, I began design on another woodworking project--a bar/liquor cabinet to go with the games table--and I have done a bit of spinning. Oh yes, I've also made and shipped three glass orders!

Anya and I

But all of those accomplishments pale in comparison to the big news of the week (actually I think the big news of the week made everything else possible): I have begun giving myself my own B12 injections! I did one at the doctor with the technician on Monday (in my right thigh) and went straight from there to workout. It was a leg day, and I think the leg workout really pushed the B12 into my system faster as I was zinging with energy all the rest of the day.

Elke and Ann Lynn

Today is hump day and we begin the downward slide to the weekend. Tomorrow is ceramics class (and I have another glass order to make for shipping Friday), and Friday is a crafting morning with Becky and dogs-to-the-groomer day (whew! they are smelly!!). Saturday I'm supposed to go to a woodworking bring-your-own-project workshop at a local woodworker's studio, and I'll go if I can get further on my table design and pick up the wood Friday. This weekend is also when I'm supposed to start perennial seeds for the garden and I haven't even decided what to grow yet!

It is a good life

Lynne

An Unintended Project

I made no resolutions this year. More specifically, I didn't resolve to get in shape, eat better, or lose weight. That way, experience has always shown me, lies madness. And yet...

I just got home from an appointment with a nutritionist. I went to see her because I wanted help managing the food component of my diabetes. As part of the consult it came up that I would not be averse to losing weight. Not averse to, but pessimistic about the reality of. Carla, however, was a bubbling font of optimism, and I left the office with sample meal plans for breakfast, lunch and snack--I'm not messing with Dave's cooking other than to add more vegetables for me and have slightly smaller portions of his scrumptious entrees. Surprisingly, I can actually see myself losing weight by following this plan. Well, I guess that's not so surprising: you can succeed with all weight loss plans if you follow them! What I should have said is, I can see being able to easily follow this plan without too much effort, and If I do, I'll lose weight. Oh yes, I'll also better manage my diabetes.

In the past when I have dieted (aka paying attention to what I'm eating and counting/measuring it) I have wanted to restrict my intake such that I would lose at least three lbs a week and preferably five. Why do it if you can't do it quick was my younger self's motto. Realistic much? I approached working out the same way: 3-5 times a week, an hour a time. I'm an all-or-nothing, balls-to-the-wall kind of girl. And I failed at eating to lose weight and working out. Repeatedly.

But now maybe I'm older *and* wiser. The eating plan Carla put me on balances my carbs throughout the day and is targeted for a weight loss of 1 lb a week. While I'll barely notice that weight loss, looking at the foods I'm supposed to eat, I'll barely notice a change there either! The big rule for the diabetes is to eat carbs at every meal, and to always offset them with fat and/or protein. Her idea of a good breakfast for me is an egg, two slices of toast, a quarter of an avocado or an oz of cheese, a cup of milk, and a cup of raspberries. Wow! this morning on my way out the door I grabbed two mini croissants and two pieces of Laughing Cow cheese. According to her plan I'm about 238 calories short for the meal... Happy Day!

So now I have My Fitness Pal on my phone, and I'll start tracking my food and carbs to make sure I eat well and regularly. Oh yeah, and I might lose some weight too! Oh, for that working out thing? I go to the gym 1-2 days a week (I shoot for two) and work with a trainer who kicks my butt. Maybe 2018 will see less of me than did previous years!

Upcoming Projects Slooooow Style

Today is the beginning of my next chapter. Will it be a mystery? A whodunit? A comedy? A drama? For myself, I hope it will be if not boring, at least really calm. I hope it includes sleep and avoids deadlines. One of the first things it will contain is a hand spinning retreat in Destin. I will get to see old friends from Atlanta and I'll do nothing but sleep, eat, and spin for four days. What a great reset that will be! And I'm not even going to exhaust myself getting there this year as I'm going to fly this time.

While I'm there I'm going to finish up the spinning project I started last summer which got derailed with the onset of summer's medical issues and then the Fall and Winter of Great Endeavors. It's the mash-up of a bunch of different hand-dyed rovings from which I was going to knit a sweater. I started a sweater but don't like it so I'm going to tink it (that's knit it backwards) and make one of the knit swirl coats instead. I think I'll do a slightly larger version of this one. I like the drape, I like the flow. This will be a good match for the colorful yarn I'm spinning.

This is a bridle joint on the top corners of the table edge.
Sexy, huh?

Yesterday Dave, Jessie, and I finished the new layout of the sitting room which henceforth is to be called the Game Room. Today I puttered with the plans for the game table and picked up a few small tools I'll need. Tool shopping is always a treat, and since I finished the data.world gig I had a little spare cash. I thought I was going to do a square version of the one from the Wood Whisperer Guild, but it's just not quite what we want. So instead it looks like I'll take the features I like from it--the top frame with the bridle joints in the corners, the lifting mechanism to remove the inset table top,  and the tapered legs--and I'll pull other details in from other designs. It means I'll have to go to Sketchup to do the design, but we'll get exactly what we want.

There's a new urban lumber mill here in Austin that mills downed trees and I'm excited to be getting my wood from them. Their philosophy is pretty cool:

"Harvest Lumber Company produces quality lumber with wood waste from Central Texas. After years of seeing countless trees being mulched and plenty of buildings being demolished, we felt a call to save this material. As two professional woodworkers we were excited to develop a wood processing facility that could mill, dry and retail this precious material. As stewards of the environment and longtime Austinites, we felt drawn to make a positive impact in our community. Our transparent operation located in Central Austin demonstrates real recycling at work and offers a variety of products for sale to the public. Harvest Lumber Company provides resources and guidance to both professional and novice woodworkers.  We look forward to helping you begin your next woodworking project."

But now, to bed. The spouse is calling, and I must go.

I Begin a Total Mental and Physical Reset

After a year of posting every day, I have really slacked off. Forgive me all, for I have sinned. It's been seven days since my last posting. The data.world project is done. The fashion show is done. The holidays are done. The art fair is done. It was a wild ride, and now it's done. I was very happy with the end of the data.world project. I did (almost) everything I wanted to, they loved the work, and I even was given my own sparkletar (Sparkle avatar). What do you think? Kali the Destroyer, mother of all things, that from which all things come, time, and death.

Today Dave and I worked on a reset of the house, putting away Christmas and cleaning. I had such high hopes for what we'd accomplish, and we only got through about half of my list. That's not to say we didn't do really, really well, but I was overconfident on what I thought we'd get to. I think Dave did a lot more than I did and he was very happy with our progress.

I took a break midway through the cleaning frenzy to suit up and check on the bees with Zaga. We looked at her hive first, and it was great. Then we looked at my top bar hive, and the combs were mostly empty of honey and larvae. I did find the queen, but they need fed. The Flow hive was next up and they had bountiful combs of capped honey and a lot of activity. Then we went to the hybrid. It was eerie. There were a couple of dead bees, and some bees who had died while chewing their way out of the cells (hatching). Other than that the hive was stripped clean. There were no bees, no honey, no larvae, just wax. The next hive was the Lang hive of the gentle golden bees, and it was the same as the hybrid: a few dead bees, and everything else looked like a bee ghost town. I was pretty upset by this point, but shouldered on to the last hive, another Lang. Like the top bar it was almost devoid of honey, but there were bees, and I think I even saw some larvae. I didn't take all the frames all the way out. I looked just enough to see that they were there and really needed food. So I mixed up a couple of entrance feeders with 2:1 sugar syrup, and I am starting to feed them.

Now it's the end of an evening spent en famille with Dave, Jessie, and Dave's parents who are visiting through Monday. Everyone else has gone to their nests to settle down for a cozy night of sleep. I want to do the same, but first I thought I'd take look forward through the spring until we go to Montana. What is next? Nothing really for this week other than getting ready for five days at the January Spin-In in Destin with a couple of friends. I got a notification today that I was not selected for the Austin Fine Arts Festival this spring. My Master Spinner Level 2 class has been moved from February to October. I'm at a bit of a loose end! Maybe I'll just enjoy it and drift along a bit not planning or thinking about anything... Yeah, right. I hope I have more energy and enthusiasm tomorrow. I need my groove back!

I Welcome the New Year at Last

It's 59 degrees outside and dry, and school is cancelled for tomorrow due to weather... In the school district's defense, I had a doctor's appointment in the morning which has also been cancelled as they expect to be closed for weather too. It's supposed to rain starting soon, turning into snow and ice as the temperatures plummet by morning. With the hill at the end of our street, if the roads are icy, we won't be going anywhere tomorrow. I wish I had done my kiln loads today when it was 65 degrees out and thus warm in the studio too. Tomorrow and the next few days are going to be miserable.

As mentioned in yesterday's post, the fashion show is over. I am also coming to the end of the data.world doc project--Dave would like me to be finished writing and him to be finished reviewing my writing by tomorrow. Oddly enough, I think I can make that goal. Then what? My in-laws asked me the other day what my next big project is, and I didn't have a specific one in mind, just a feeling I wanted to get down into the wood shop. I also need to finish my coursework for the level one master spinner course by the end of February, and I'm headed to Destin for a five-day spinning retreat in a week. SO it looks like wood and wool are on my horizon.

But more important than anything I'm winding up to do is stopping and relishing this moment of being DONE. I'll be honest, I have come to dread the holidays. There's too much going on at the end of the year and too much pressure to connect with friends, family, co-workers, and the world, and to celebrate your relationships and good feelings. Even this year when I managed to keep Christmas down to a dull roar with two presents for Dave, two presents from Dave, and fewer presents than previously for Jessie, it still was too much. I thought the cruise would take some of the pressure off because we wouldn't be back till Christmas Eve, but that wasn't the case. Between the art fair, starting the SQL docs, getting sick on the cruise, all three of us sharing a room on the cruise, Christmas, and the fashion show I have been stuck in a time of no personal time and no personal space. But now time is coming back to me.

On the idea of wood projects, Dave and I were discussing what to do with the "room" at the far end of the downstairs. We call it a room, but really our downstairs living area is one big room with the great room at one end, a dining room squeezed in between it and a kitchen, and then what we're calling a sitting room at the far end. Right now there is a piano, a couple of comfy chairs in front of the fireplace and a couple of bookcases in that room. And we never use it. In the interest of using it for more than piano practice and lessons, I proposed moving one chair and the bookcases out, moving the games cabinet in, and putting a 2-4-person games table in the middle of the room. We have been enjoying playing games of an evening, and this way we wouldn't have to worry if the dining room table was sticky. Dave thought my proposal was marvelous, and guess who's building the games table? As I am a member of the Wood Whisperer Guild I checked to see if there were any plans for a games table there, and, huzzah! Now I have plans! Though I think I will modify them some as we just want a 3.5 ft square pedestal table. We do want a lot of bells and whistles though including a cloth-covered, recessed gaming surface, cup holders, individual play surfaces, and modular accessories like dice trays, surfaces for plates of food, etc.

On a smaller scale I have decided to take all the remaining redwood from the old deck that's still piled in front of the garage and cut and plane it down into smaller pieces which I will use to build little redwood boxes and other small items. I like boxes and I want a project where I can practice skills like dovetailing, routing and inlay on a small scale. As soon as it dries up outside, I'll get right on it!

A Rundown on the Runway

We have had several days of ups and downs here at the Griffith abode, and I have been pondering how to relate the events in this forum. I still don't have an answer, but I need to move on it or forget about it. I still don't have photos, but I will soon.

The last time I posted was last Tuesday in the wee hours of the morning. J and I had worked all day Monday, and it felt like we were finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. And then I wrote about finishing and switching gears and how good it all felt, and fate stepped up to my challenge and said, "Take this!". Tuesday I went in to data.world, kicked ass on doc, and everything was great. Jessie had rehearsal again until 8:00 that night, and came home to say the white dress was too big and needed to be taken in. Ugh. As it was lined, it meant taking in both the dress and the lining.

And thus began the descent into madness as from there on I lost track of time. Couture problems gleefully manifested daily as the rest of the week passed in a haze of late nights, too-full days, and unending sewing.

To finish the story of the white dress: Jessie pinned the dress on the model to mark where it needed to be taken in. The pins started to come out and were replaced by someone else with safety pins but on the other side of the dress. No, I have no idea how something could be both replaced and on the other side. By the time J got home, the safety pins (which didn't close properly) had started to come out. J had a pretty good idea (vague recollection) how much the dress should be taken in. I was dubious as taking in a form-fitting dress without exact requirements just sounded hazardous to me. But we had to do it because there weren't enough rehearsals left before the judging to refit. So we took it in, and this time we also hemmed it up. The next day when the model tried it on it was too tight. So it had to be let out, but we had cut the extra fabric out after taking it in as it would have been too bunchy under the dress if left in. The next step was to rip the sides out up to just above the waist, add in triangular panels to the dress and the lining, and hem it up again. And then there was still the ruffle to finish and the issue of making it fit better into the line (no blue, you see).

And then there was the blue ballgown. We turned it inside out and Jessie serged the entire hem together except for one small area to pull it back through right-side out again. Then we went to bed. J headed off to school the next morning, and when I got up I went to turn the dress right-side out so I could bring it to her rehearsal at the end of the school day.

Good thing I didn't wait till I was ready to leave as the physics of inside out does not work that way. In my defense, this is not a rare dressmaker error, and I still don't know why exactly, but for some reason if a lined dress is sewn together at the neckline and then down the back around the zipper you can't turn it inside out to hem. I have pictures, though they mostly look like a big wad of blue and god satin so it's hard to see that what I ended up with after pulling the dress right-side out again was a moebius strip. As I had gotten Jessie into the mess by telling her how to do the hem that way, I figured I should fix it. So I spent over half the day redoing it. I cut off the serged hem with a rotary cutter, turned the dress back right-side out, and went to the mass mind for a way to hem it inside out. Turns out you need to start with the dress right-side out, pin the hem that way (wrong sides together), then cut a slit in the lining and pull only the bottom of the dress through it. At this point the bottom is inside out and the top... isn't. Then you repin the hem in exactly the same place but with the right sides together. THEN you can serge it all the way around, pull it back through the slit in the lining, sew up the slit in the lining, and Bob's your uncle.

Fast forward to Friday, the day of dress rehearsal and judging. J was still sewing right up to a half hour after we were supposed to leave the house to get to the performing arts center (and then more in the car on the way). We got to dress rehearsal late, but Jessie and Isabelle's line was next to last so it all worked out. She finally finished at 9:30, and when I picked her up she was jubilant: The judges had told her everything was perfect, she couldn't have done better, and they asked her what she wanted to do in the fashion industry... The only cloud was that they didn't gush as much over Isabelle's part of the line--though they did say how well the two blended and you couldn't tell it was two designers.

And then it was Saturday. The clothes had been left at the performing arts center Friday night after judging in preparation for the show. No last-night/last-minute sewing, everything was done. The show began and the clothes were edgy, and the models (all McCallum students who had auditioned to participate) were as bored and aloof as any professional runway model could ever hope to be. The show was two hours long and featured the work of twelve student designers (and one design team--Jessie and Isabelle) shown by 29 or so models. Jessie and Isabelle's line was next to last, and it looked good. Neither of J's dresses were as wow-factor from far away as they had been up close, but they were clearly well-made (and the judges had examined all of the lines up close for quality of workmanship). Jessie is a demon for top-stitching and precision seams.

At the end of show the awards--1st to 3rd places--were announced. J did not place. I recognized the designer of one of the winning lines as she was towards the end too, but I'm still not sure who the others were.

As a parent, my heart ached for my child who didn't understand why she hadn't even placed. Why, she wanted to know, had the faculty advisor in charge of the show told her that they were being judged on the both the quality of the work and the design, when workmanship didn't seem to matter at all? Some of the pieces weren't even hemmed, they were just cut off. Nothing was lined, seams were crooked all over the place, why didn't this matter? Why had the judges said everything was perfect and couldn't have been done better if they weren't even going to place her? Other designers had said how harsh the judges had been about crooked and poorly done seams, and she wasn't given a single criticism, why?

As an adult and an artist who has spent the past 20 years in the creative world, I could see why the judges might not have picked her. Jessie is too grounded in the effort it she puts in to doing something--a combination of passion and keeping going until it finally matches the vision of her internal eye--to understand that it doesn't matter what it took to beat the materials into submission to achieve the goal. What matters isn't what the artist sees--it's what the audience sees. If the piece--be it clothes or a painting--makes the viewer think the maker was an artist and the work was inspired by a vision, that's what counts. The blood the artist may have poured into it doesn't. It often isn't the work that counts, it's the facade of its artisticness. The life and work of Vincent van Gogh provides a perfect example.

Not that I want Jessie to end up like Van Gogh. What mattered last night, today, and going forward is how she feels about her art and her craftsmanship. The only person she needs to please is herself. She has a right to be annoyed that the criteria she was given for success in this show were misrepresented, and that the judges weren't more helpful in their critique of her work. But she shouldn't be discouraged because her work wasn't acknowledged as she thought it should have been. The only validation that matters, the only criticism that matters is her own. She needs to keep listening to and following her own inner voice. And I hope she participates again next year.