Use What You Have

It’s my sabbath, and I have been in the moment all day. On my sabbath, I take a break from Time, not from work…
I thought I would offer up this up for today’s entry.

This is one of my favorite passages in any book. (Let it be known, I really don’t read fiction. I pretty much read my same old reference books over and over.) In this case, the book is Carla Emery‘s Encyclopedia of Country Living.
This bit is about food and growing it, but one could be creative and apply these thoughts to other areas of life perhaps.

“The wonderful magic at the heart of a food-growing household is the magic that turns your home-produced turnips and cream, apples and meat into your meals. The moment of triumph is when you say to the family, “Here’s what we worked so hard to grow, and isn’t it good!” I think you cook most happily, freely, and independently when you make good things out of what Providence is giving you!
Lane Morgan, author of the Winter Harvest Cookbook (Seattle: Sasquatch Books, 1990), says, ‘I agree entirely that cooks are spending too much money at the supermarket and at the gourmet supply store. But I think we would profit by spending more time looking at cuisines of other cultures, to help us better use what our particular gardens can grow. Country people around here will eat canned green beans and carrots all winter, which are considerable work to put up, because that’s good Amereican garden food. Meanwhile they could be eating fresh kale and leeks and Japanese mustards from that same garden, which would be tastier, more nutritious, and easier all around, but they don’t because that’s foreign stuff and they don’t know the Greek or Indian or Japanese techniques to make them wonderful. They’ll make clam dip from a package, but they wouldn’t consider an Indian chutney made of garden mint and chutney, served with garden spinach and potatoes. Too strange.’
Making menus out of what you can grow is the way that Great-Grandmother did it. Each week she looked in the larder and the cellar and took a walk through the garden to see what she had to work with. Then she made menus. When she had eggs and milk aplenty, a little honey and some stale bread, the family had a bread pudding. In May she served rhubarb in it, in June strawberries over it, and in September peaches — because that’s the way they grew.
To have 365 days of independent eating, you’ve got to learn to eat what you can grow, and you’ve got to learn to grow what you want to eat. At first it will be hard, but stick to it. If you don’t like what you have, eat it anyway and use the energy of your distaste to figure how to get what you’ll like better. If your only meat is elk, eat elk until you can raise something else. If you miss bacon, get four little pigs. In six months, they’ll be 200-pounders. and you’ll have a year’s supply of bacon plus a sow to breed and keep the bacon coming. If you’re still living in the city and you don’t have anything but dreams, try for fun buying only what you imagine you could grow — in a natural, unprocessed state — like whole grains, and see if you can learn to live off it.
When lettuce is in season, have a salad every day — you can’t preserve it. If you miss it in the off-season, contrive a way to raise winter lettuce in the house. If you miss sweets, learn beekeeping. If you have barley and corn, make your bread, pancakes, and pie crust out of barley floour, cornmeal crust, and a bear-meat filling. If you have some tough old hens past their laying time, 3 extra male goats, and 100 rabbits, then learn good ways to cook tough old hens, goat meat, and rabbit.”

for the record, I don’t like turnips, I have eaten bear meat (and it is good), and I am so not there yet.

casting about for a purpose

I am doing everything in my power not to whine today.
Some days I am overwhelmed by what feels like a lack of vision. What motivates me to create? I ask myself this on a daily basis. There are ways in which the answer does not matter; I have a certain amount of maintanence that I have to perform, on the home, on my projects. For these tasks I don’t need Motive.
It is the projects and ideas that are not tethered to function that baffle me.

french knot work

This is all a function of stretching to achieve more than what is immediately within my grasp.

today's experiences and some thoughts.

and also some knitting.

I had a rich day, spent lots of time with nature. Things I did: saw a harrier hunting not 10 feet from me; lay in Mark’s little boat just to let the current rock me; spyed the moon through maple leaves; stretched out on the warm rocks in the driveway next to a snake, each of us checking out the other; sat for half an hour under a larch tree, blending with it, and willing the seeds I gathered and planted from that tree to hatch and grow; and shucked oysters brought to me by Sharin, and sucked the salty water and slippery beasts out of the shells.
Now at the end of the day I feel so good!

As promised, here is a page from The Night Life of Trees. This is a book “of art and folklore from the Gond tribe in central India. In Gond belief, trees stand in the middle of life, and the spirit of many things lie in them. They are busy all day, giving shade and support and shelter and food to all. Only when night falls can they find rest for themselves, and then, under quiet dark skies, that spirits that live in them are revealed.”

the creation of trees
The Creation of Trees.

more to come.

Okay, here are the thoughts. I tend to be fairly spacey, forgetting about commitments and general maintainence, and that’s not good.
I became aware of something developing in my life today, an internal organization, ooo, that sounds dry, let’s say I am learning how to feel the threads that connect me to the things I need to keep track of. For example, I have to make a pair of socks for a swap, and while there isn’t a set deadline, I am determined to not procrastinate this time! My heart is set on making a pair of pomatomus, which puts me on a bit of a learning curve. First step has been to mull over the choice of yarn. I decided on this yarn, which I have been ravelling from an abandoned project I got at a thrift store years ago:
blue yarn
it is very thin, and I needed smaller needles than I had, so I went and bought some 0 dpns. (The pattern calls for 2s and I know I am loose knitter, so I start two sizes down.) Then I made my first gauge swatch. Which turns out to be too big!
All this taking place along a stretch of time, mind you, and in the meantime, I am getting a bit restless, so I turn the gauge swatch into something possibly useful:
redbird patch
which didn’t turn out good at all, but hey maybe somebody will like it. I am really poor at figures, and this is supposed to be a Firebird, but didn’t it turn out too cute!

I quickly figured out I was going to have to learn the lace pattern for the socks on a bigger yarn than I will ultimately be using. So:
pomatomus swatch
I nailed it.
Now, I am waiting for my smaller needles to arrive in the mail (I went ahead and ordered 00s, 000s, and 0000s, it’s been too damn long since I spent money on myself if you don’t count this, tight last couple of months), and while I wait, I am working on a Sunrise Circle jacket for Alice, which is itself a preparation for making myself one!
the beginnings of the back of the sunrise circle jacket
All this is relatively mundane, but it serves to illustrate how I have been able to carry the thread of an idea through several stages without losing it, and of course, I simultaneously have many other threads running between my fingers that I am keeping track of with similar processes.
After years of forgetfulness, I am excited about this ability! and, best of all, this “method” is enhanced by, not dependent on, written lists.

so yeah.

giorgio moroder and what he means to me

WARNING: Non-craft content to follow!

my mother wore red

I was listening to some bad disco tonight…(is any of it good? I love it)… and thinking about my mother, circa 78, 79. Those were some days! She really took us for a ride.

For those who don’t know, my mom died on Halloween 2006, at the age of 57. She lived hard, that’s for sure. She did love to party. I think about her a lot, and try as I might to have it otherwise, my memories of her are of this partying hardcore broad (her word, not mine). I have some stories! but it wasn’t a really kid-friendly environment. If my childhood were rated like a film it would be a hard hard R. Not quite Boogie Nights, but still I couldn’t finish that movie, ouch.
I am aiming for a nice quiet PG-13 for my daughters! (for language and smoking)

here’s a story: When we had just moved to Astoria from Isla Vista (where they burned the Bank of America in 1970), my mom fell in love with a Turkish sailor who was passing through on one of the big ships. We were going to move to Istanbul! (if that didn’t work out, then we were going to San Francisco…) We even started to learn turkish, as a family. Taskin, he seemed like such a gentle soul, but then he went upriver and got into some trouble. Got drunk and knifed someone. So much for that plan!
Something my mom was always doing was taking me to movies that were totally inappropriate for someone my age. I think she was so used to me being her best friend, or else she felt guilty about leaving me at home. She said she was working 90 hours a week in those days. Days at the cannery and nights at the bars. So it was off to the movies we would go. American Gigolo (there’s the Giorgio Moroder connection), Midnight Express, Saturday Night Fever (hey I got that record for my tenth birthday!), Rocky Horror (okay that one wasn’t so bad), and there were other earlier shows that still nag at me. At least she didn’t take me to see Looking For Mr. Goodbar, but she still told me all about it, down to the violent end.

here I am in those Diane Keaton days, so pleased to be able to wear this coat for a night! I was 9.
rabbit skin coat
of course nighthawks is hanging on the wall… they were like that, such nighthawks.

here’s my mom’s 20th birthday party:
my mom's 20th birthday party
that’s her with the skinny legs. check it out, she’s smoking, of course.

And here’s another from that same time, 1969:
mom, me, and my best friend
warhol could have done something with her, it’s true.

There were some hard times, and I don’t need to tell all the stories, not here and now, anyway.
She loved to smoke and she loved drugs and she loved her kids. When I was younger I worshiped her, and then I got angry, and nowadays I just shake my head and wondered what she was thinking, with love, and humor, and respect for her struggles.

all day knitting!

today was one of my days off, and what did I do all day but knit!
The morning brought my friend Sharin for coffee, and she is such a do-er, she couldn’t sit still and had to go into the “studio” and begin folding fabric. We ended folding and sorting a whole bunch of my stash, laughing and inspiring together. It is so nice to have a nearby friend to brainstorm with!
Then it was time to trade sheep duties with Alice, so I got to go knit topless in the sun. No bitiing flies yet to bother me.
I finished another pair of cuff blanks (and I think it will be about the last of this style for awhile), and I started on a project I have been wanting to do for a few days now.
Here it is, not yet done, but mostly so. It has plans to be an actual piece of wall art.
falling down cabin

You know how the quilt block patterns have descriptive names, well this is called “falling down cabin.” We sure have a lot of these around here. This deliberately caddywompus, (not laying on the blanket at angle.) Hence the name.

Knitting this and thinking about a: log cabin quilts and b: the women who made them and c: Sharin and I visiting and sorting fabric, I had to think about how during the early stages of this internet craft community’s formation, one would see such-and-such described as “not your grandma’s craft.” More than once I saw this! And I really have to disagree, at least from my vantage point. I feel SO connected to what the women of previous generations have done, and inspired by them. Granted I can live without acrylic yarn embroidered strawberry baskets, but beyond those, there is such wealth in the crafts of our grandmas! I sleep on pillowcases embroidered by those women and under blankets crocheted by them, I visit homesteads that are still blooming with flowers they planted, I find recipes in church cookbooks that they compiled. They were using everything as many times as they could (if not the grandmas, then the great-grandmas) and so am I. I plant food, I raise animals, I cut buttons off of my old clothes before they go into the rag basket. I would be proud to be the next generation of “my grandma’s craft.”

Okay. That said, when I needed a break from the scritchy black yarn, I started a pair of perdita.
I know, me using a pattern? I do it occasionally….

And, Soph, have you seen this book? I think you would really like it.
night life of trees

I got it at the library yesterday, and I am so going to purchase a copy for myself. I am absolutely blown away by the illustrations, and I promise to photograph a page or two soon. Just so you all can see the amazivity of it.

after a week of shepherding…

I’m back.
what with Alice gone last week to sailing camp at the Center for Wooden Boats, I found myself out in the pasture every day with the sheep. I really have an appreciation for Alice’s contribution to the household, I tell you!
So many thoughts crossed my mind, and I wanted to write about half of them, this being journal as well as public space, but alas, I had absolutely zero time for sitting at the computer.

yarn riot

(there’s a stash shot for ya)

I did manage to get a lot of cuffs knit. I could do about a pair and a half done while watching the sheep.
All this cuff knitting was brought about by a pending swap with Soule, which I completed yesterday. I traded these cuffs made to order for a few pieces of art which I need to photgraph yet.

cuffs for min

cuffs for soule
Not the greatest photos, but as I said, I was under diress!

I look forward to having a bit more time to read all y’all’s blogs. Then I will be able to talk about other folk’s cool happenings.
I did get turned on to the event that is going to be the apex of my summer perhaps. Pickathon! It’s been awhile since I went to a three day camping music event.

Opal has been in horse heaven what with the new alliance I have formed with a local lady. A friend, I think I can say! Yes, my new friend, Sharin, takes care of other people’s horses when needed, and has been facilitating Opal’s passion for the equine. Opal even got to ride a horse yesterday, but honestly, I think at this point the child would be happy mucking out stalls.

Oh, and yesterday I got home from work to find I had sold two cd pockets (here and here) via my etsy shop! I was more than surprised. I forgot I even had a shop. hah hah.

so, that’s all for now. I need to go generate more experience so I can write about it.

I love trading.

auds' flags

Over the last few seasons, I have really come into my own where trades are concerned. I have been swapping for a long time, sometimes in a rather flakey way, but the whole romantic notion of trading that lived in my imagination wasn’t really coming to life. I mean, I had visions of running these trade routes, picking up lemons and pepper at my dad’s in SoCal, and bringing them up north and trading them at Barter Fair for, I don’t know, onions, or something suitably northern. And of course I would have brought my dad some things he needed.
That kind of thing.
So, what has been the hold up? Really. I grew up amongst enough hippie faire vibe to be able to hold my own, it would seem. I certainly can speak the language of non-monetary dealing. I guess I can chock my recalcitrance up to good ol’ Inhibition. If you know me, you’re gonna laugh, but really! I’m shy!
Well, last year I made a commitment to myself to follow through on my desire to attend Last Thursday Street Fair on a regular basis. This event is right up my alley; you don’t need to register, or pay a fee. You just show up and find a spot to pitch your sales table. It is a madhouse at times, but I feel very much at home there.

Somehow, that cracked the ice for me. I’ll be honest. I don’t sell much stuff when I try to. My etsy shop never really yielded me much, and now that I don’t make many things for sale, it obviously is super stalled. Besides, I hate feeling like I need to argue about what a thing is worth. It’s worth a lot, damn it!

I know I go back and forth about the selling thing, but lately I have been back, or forth, or whichever direction feels wishy washy about it. I told the Universe that I was ready to start trading, and all of a sudden it’s going on.

here are some successes, and successes to be:
I swapped this hat to a friend who was admiring it. She is a block printer extraordinaire, and made the lovely prayer flags you see above. For the hat, I’m going to get some more of her cards.
lughnasa flag
my favorite of the bunch. This is for lughnasa.

Soule on flickr (who is actually lives real close to me) was admiring these cuffs, and therefore I am making her two pair in trade for some art, or something. I haven’t decided yet.
the beginnings of a set of cuffs
the beginnings…

The person who received the pink cuffs sent my girls a humungous box of books from the publishing company where she works. It was an amazing bounty! The funny thing is, I thought we were trading cuffs for a skirt, but I like the books better anyway.
The thing about trading is you know the person loves it. And that is what counts.

here’s alice with a groovy outfit she put together. And a bunny smile.

beautiful use swap

Warning: If you are my Beautiful Use swap partner reading this blog, don’t scroll down! I’m going to show off the stuff I made for you.

Here’s a pic of Opal to divert you…
a glam shot while exploring

So, now, I have been working on working on items for a Glitter version of the Beautiful Use swap, and I wrapped all the last bits up and sent it yesterday.

beautiful use swap, wrapped

In these little packages are the following:
tote made for a swap
made from thrifted and gifted fabrics entirely. I am not happy with the way the bottom sags, I boxed those corners but still. It’s a nice bag.

after reading this post on soph’s blog, I decided to improve the way I go about lining bags.
lining of the tote
and because I like taking those macro shots like the big girls:
fabric from finland
fabric from Suomi.

also in there was the finished product, the results of the first of my french knot studies, on knit and fulled fabric (yarn from Grand View Farm).
fulled cozy
I decided to go with the natural shape of the fulled piece rather than cut it. It’s a cozy, I guess. (It’s really a vehicle for the knotting practice…)
notecards with fashion illustrations by Opal.
Pluis some buttons for good measure.

It was a good swap for me; very instructive, and I am getting better about working through projects, trying to train myself out of procrastination. I was still late on the send-out, though.

so there’s some craft content for ya.

new old house!

But first, a kid moment.
Opal had a friend over today and they were having a grand time chasing the big sister.
They came up to me and O said, “Mommy, have you seen Alice?”
Me: “No. Have you?”
O: “No. We want to find her so we can drive her out of all Brittania.”


Here is the house I am going to be moving into this summer.
my new house...

I am very very excited.
Now, I have to say, moving back to town is going to be a bit weird. I have lived in the country for 12 years, and we are talking the American West. There is a lot of open space here, and there is a lot of Wildness. How am I going to adapt to living in town? where will I find the untamed space? Granted it is Astoria, where the wind will blow your flesh right into your Dreaming.
I guess I asked to be a bridge builder. So now I will practice bridging the gap between town and country.
Urbanruralferal, baby!