My Bit of Earth

A Wheel Of My Own

Sweet Husband scored major brownie points this weekend.  Like, a year's worth.  Here's how it happened.

Having nothing else we wanted to do on Saturday afternoon, we decided to drive over to the River Market Antique Mall and have a looksie.  The place is pretty awesome in and of itself--four floors of curiosities, all fairly well-priced.  We had already had awesome luck finding a few little goodies (more about those later this week), and were on the third floor when Sweet Husband said, "Hey did you see that spinning wheel down stairs?"

    "What?!"

    "Yeah, there's a spinning wheel.  I think it was, like, fifty bucks."

If you will remember, I took a spinning class about a year ago and loved it.  But after trying several wheels in class, the two I liked (the Traditional Ashford or the Ashford Traveller) were sadly out of the budget.  Although I'd been keeping an eye out for a used wheel on Ebay, I had just about decided it wasn't meant to be.

So, trying not to get my hopes up--because I was sure that something had to be wrong with it for that price--I frog-marched Sweet Husband back to the second floor where, with just a little hunting, we found it.

 

A pretty little Traveller, who knows how old.  (It has a single treadle, which I've discovered they don't make anymore, and l-shaped flyer-hooks, which are also, apparently, quite out-of-date.)  Although with my limited experience I couldn't say for sure, it looked like everything was in working order...or, at least, working enough that it wouldn't take much to get it back into ship-shape.  I may have done a little dance right there amidst the antique furniture!

A quick trip to my local yarn store Sunday afternoon confirmed that this was indeed a steal.  There's a slight problem with the knob that adjusts the brake tension (some fool varnished it in place), but a) it looks like it might be possible to get it out with a bit of work, or b) if not, the nice lady who looked it over for me showed me how to do makeshift adjustments.  Otherwise, a little oil in the joints and it's ready to start making yarn!

The Kitchen Reader: Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

This month's Kitchen Reader book--chosen by Karen of Shortbread South--is Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. 

The plot was not terribly new for me at this point--urban family moves the the country and eats local for a year--but I liked this book the most of any I've read in this genre, because the author is very practical about it.  

A lot of the time authors turn eating locally into an endurance contest.  (In Plenty, for example, the authors picked mouse poop out of their locally sourced wheat so they could make bread--ewww!)  In much the way I admire people who run marathons, but would never actually want to run a marathon myself; I admire that sort of dedication to eating locally, but it's not for me.

Throughout this book, Kingsolver's family eats locally where they can, takes the time to consider whether they really need things that can't be gotten locally, and then buys sustainably where they must.  This strikes me as being much more realistic for the average person.

But the most fascinating part of this book is the turkeys!

According to Kingsolver, almost all modern, domesticated turkeys are hatched in incubators.  Like chickens, they're raised until a given point where (meat) weight vs. food consumption makes economic sense, and then they're slaughtered--usually before they're even a year old.  

In one chapter of the book, Kingsolver decides to see if she can make her domestic turkeys self-perpetuating--in other words, could her turkeys hatch and raise their own young?  While the underlying concerns are serious (we've screwed with Mother Nature so much that these birds can't even reproduce without human interference), the story of how one turkey eventually figures it all out is hilarious.

All in all, a very good read!

Duck (and Chicken) Tales

Every morning I let the ducks and chickens out of their coop before heading to work.  I coax them into the front of our yard (away from the garden) with their morning breakfast.  The chickens will keep eating and ignore me as I leave, but the ducks always follow me--quacking loudly and in "V" formation--to the gate.  The other day, just to see what they would do, I purposely walked in a zig-zag line to the gate instead of a straight line.  In unison, all three stopped moving or quacking, tilted their heads to the side, and looked at me like I was drunk.

 

A new neighbor moved into the house behind us recently.  Last weekend she stopped Sweet Husband and asked, "Are those ducks you have in there?"

    "Yup"

    "I love to hear them quack in the morning.  They're always so happy, it just makes my day."

 

Tori the Chicken hopped into my lap the other day and let me pet her.  There was bribery involved--a precious, garden-fresh cherry tomato--but she didn't seem to hate it too much once she was there.  The other five birds are much more suspicious of me.  They'll all come up and greet me in the afternoon.  And they're happy to accept any tidbits or scratch I might offer.  But if I make a move to touch them they quickly scamper out of reach.

No eggs yet, although we're checking every day.  I know they'll all start producing on their own time, but I wish that time was now.  Each morning I go out and open the nest boxes hopefully, thinking "Today is going to be the day!"  And each morning so far, it's not.  The little freeloaders!

But alas, the girls aren't the only ones getting a free meal around here.  We're about to declare war on all rodent kind.

They can't get into the food that we store in our shed--it's sealed up tightly--but once we put food out for the girls it's fair game for mice and squirrels.  The mice just leave droppings, which is bad enough, but the squirrels are getting eerily bold.  

The problem is making sure the chickens get enough food while the other critters get as little as possible.  Traps and poison are just as likely to hurt a bird (or a terrier) as a mouse, so they're of limited use.  Right now, we're thinking the solution is to be scrupulously clean, giving the girls only as much food as they can eat in a day and putting all food away at night.  I know there are a few other chicken keepers who drop by occasionally--what do you do to keep the rodents away?

Big Butt Baby Pants

There are only so many times in your life that you can get away with wearing a garment that is designed to make your butt look big.  I don't know how long the window is (3 years? 5 years?), but it's very small.  And I think the Peapod should get to take full advantage of it.  Hence, the Big Butt Baby Pants.

(Digression: I was at the Gap the other day when I saw the first sweater dress of the year. I love the idea of sweater dresses, but their lack of structure tends to make me look pregnant.  I was gazing at the dress longingly when the light bulb clicked on....wait a second, I am pregnant!  While that particular sweater dress was not for me, I'm officially on the hunt.  I will buy a sweater dress this year and I will wear the hell out of it! But anyway....)

The first pair of these was a little bit fiddly, and I'm not sure I ever got the bit right where the butt panel and the crotch intersect.  However, once I got into the rhythm, they were...maybe a half an hour each from start to finish?  Not as easy as regular pants (which, to be honest, I'll probably stick to in the future), but not much harder.

And the little contrasting butt panels are pretty cute.  A fitting "end" to my flurry of making-things! 

T-Shirt Factory

One summer when I was ten or eleven-ish, I had the nicest babysitter.  In addition to a daughter my age, she had a petting zoo of farm animals (I remember the ferret and the pot-bellied pig, in particular), an unlimited supply of Disney movies, and a trampoline.  Also, as long as the messy parts were done outside, she was very encouraging of our art projects--I believe that was the summer I learned what a hot glue gun is.

One of our favorite art projects was a game called "T-shirt factory".  A box of puff paints, as many of my Dad's white undershirts as he'd let me steal, and we were in business for a whole afternoon of t-shirt decorating fun.  So when a co-worker gifted me a box of her son's outgrown clothes, I knew exactly what to do with them.

 

I decorated these with freezer paper stencils.  While you could easily draw your own, I used some from the Lotta book.  Although you can't see it in any of these pictures, it's very important that you put some sort of barrier (cardboard, a grocery sack) inside the t-shirt, so that the paint doesn't bleed through to the back.

I was super-happy with how these turned out.  Sweet Husband even commented that--with more grown-up stencils, obviously--he might like a few new decorated shirts!
 

I also sewed and stenciled a few tiny hats.  They're made from the Soulemama old-shirts pattern used for the wee Haitians, although I did hem the bottoms to make them a bit neater looking.

The colors were totally accidental, but in retrospect, a few pink ones were probably wise just in case Nice Mom and Ms. Redhead are right and the Draino is wrong.

A Lotta Lotta

The patterns for this trio came from Lotta Jansdotter's Simple Sewing for Baby.  

I'll actually be surprised if I don't make every pattern in this book before it's all said and done.  Some of the projects are right on the edge of my sewing comfort level (the little baby-burrito-bundler you see below, for example), so I'm learning.  But there are plenty of projects that are stupid-easy (the fleece hat and the nursing pillow).  And, although there's a sprinkle of just-for-cute, most of the projects in the book seem pretty practical.

Exhibit A:  Lotta calls is a Snuggler, but it will forever be the baby-burrito-bundler at our house.  Say it five times fast, I dare you.

 

Exhibit B:  A warm fleece-y hat.  

I believe this is the sixth or seventh hat to be slipped into the "for baby" drawer.  (Not counting half a dozen soft, cotton-y ones, which you will see tomorrow.)  They're just so easy to make, it's hard to find an excuse not to.

But no matter, either our kiddo will be the most well-hatted child in the world, or all of the other small fry we know will benefit from the surplus.
 

Exhibit C:  A nursing pillow.  

It's a pillow.  If you can tie your shoes, you can make this.  Further, the Google tells me that nursing pillows such as this one cost $30-$40.  The fabric in this was $8, and the stuffing a little less--call it $15 all together.  And it's not a ghastly pastel color or "baby" print, which--superficial little soul that I can be sometimes--I probably would have paid extra for if I'd had to buy one.

   

A Whole Lot A Makin' Goin' On

Spent Saturday making a mess of the dining room...and the dog.  (One of Porter's special gifts is her ability to find the most in-the-way spot possible and fall into a coma-like sleep there.  Here, you can see she was right in the place where all the sewing scraps were getting brushed off the table.)  

Even for us people-of-limited-patience-and-sewing-skills, there are so many adorable websites and books out there for making some of your own baby clothes and gear.  I confess, I've been sucked in, but it's all so cute and fun.  Some favorites so far?

• Lotta Jansdotter's Simple Sewing for Baby
• Handmade Home: Simple Ways to Repurpose Old Materials into New Family Treasures
• Craft Hope: Handmade Crafts for a Cause
• Made By Rae
• Made
• Sew Liberated

Since getting out the sewing machine and all the accoutrements is a bit of an ordeal, I decided to just tackle everything I could in one go.  We (Porter and I) made pants and decorated onsies and made all kinds of useful bits....which I'm going to post about in stages over the next few days so as to not overwhelm--stay tuned!

Knitting My Prayers (Or At Least Trying)

 

I've always thought "knitting a prayer shawl" is a bit of an oxymoron.  It's not that I don't love the idea--knitting as a way of thinking of someone--it's just that, really, all knitting done for others is a bit of a prayer.  

Every stitch is a little good wish sent off into the universe; every completed project a tangible way to wrap that person up in all the wonderful things you hope for them.  I mean, when was the last time you knitted (or sewed or baked or whatever nice things you do for your friends) something thinking, "I just hope this makes them so miserable!"

But, at the same time, I'll admit that some projects are more of a prayer than others.  And even some that you mean to be full of love can give you fits while you're making them.   

These two projects fall into both categories.

They're both stupid-easy patterns.  The vest (for the babe) is a Pebble.  The shawl (for a friend) is a Dummy Clap.  (It even says "dummy" in the name, for goodness sake!)  But for the life of me, things just kept going wrong with both of them.  

I misread the pattern on the vest, and got almost finished with it before I had to rip the whole thing apart and start over.  And that was after three false starts to get the sizing and gauge right.

The shawl went very well until it came time to unravel the stitches as the end.  I know it looks complicated, but truly it's a matter of being able to count--knit three, drop two, knit three, drop two, and so on.  Nonetheless, fifty inches of stockinette were almost completely destroyed because I couldn't focus enough to count to three!

But, despite the frustrations, now that they're finished I see...a tiny, fat tummy covered and ready for tickling...a soft, warm hug around the shoulders of one of the kindest people I know as Fall creeps in and she needs some comforting....they're prayers made of wool.

Now This Is Better

Now we're cooking with bacon tomatoes!  Still not a flood--considering that we have about a million plants out there--but my bargain toms that got planted late are starting to come on now, so it shouldn't  be long.   

Also, while I hesitate to say this too loudly, I think we may have defeated the squash bugs this year.  I went out hunting this evening and couldn't find a single egg or bug.  Which is fabulous because, not only do we have a nice pumpkin ripening in the sun, we have a few baby watermelons too.  (Watermelons were the only plant Sweet Husband requested from the garden this year, so I do hope they turn out.) 

And taking advantage of the (blessedly) cooler temperatures--you know, like 85 instead of 105--I planted some Fall veggies tonight.  Some kale and chard and beets and carrots and radishes.  While I'm excited for the kale to come, more immediately speaking it felt good to weed and clean up a few patches in the garden.  Things are looking a bit wild out there these days, so it's nice to have a little neatness for contrast.

Why I *Heart* Church Rummage Sales (Part 2)

The last dollar of my five, went to purchase several picture frames.

I'm indecisive, and rather than deny that particular character flaw, I try to work with it.  As such, almost every bit of artwork and photography in our house is purposely framed and put on the wall in such a way as to be easily changeable.  Our family photos are all in standard sized black frames--so easy to swap out whenever new ones are taken.  Our fun snapshots are similarly all in the same size frames and displayed so as to be completely interchangeable.

Where I get into trouble is with all the cute little prints and photos that I find on etsy.  They're all different sizes, you see.  And if I buy a frame for one then I feel stuck with it forever and ever.

Additionally, quite awhile ago, I saw this photo of empty frames and wanted to do something sort of similar, but I just couldn't quite visualize how exactly I wanted to put it together.

Enter a dollar's worth of picture frames at the church rummage sale, a can of black spray paint, a few nails, and some ticky-tacky.

The frames had seen better days, but a can of black spray paint (sweetly wielded by the non-pregnant one) fixed that.  There are two small nails in the upper corner of each frame holding it up, with a little ticky-tacky on the back to make it extra secure.  The pictures--which have been sitting in a drawer waiting for me to find a place for them for a tragically long time--are also stuck to the walls with ticky-tacky.

Seriously, $5=happy me!

Why I *Heart* Church Rummage Sales (Part 1)

Because you can get your heart's content for $5.  Or at least get close.

About two seconds before everyone was to sit down at the last little dinner party we had, I realized that--even after pulling out the red Christmas set--we did not quite have enough napkins for all.  Having forgone paper to the point that we don't even have any leftover paper napkins in the house, I conspired with Best Friend who was helping in the kitchen.

    "How many napkins do you have?" he asked, helpfully.

    "Enough for all but two."  I counted.

    "Well, that's you and Sweet Husband who will have to eat neatly tonight!"

And we did, and it was fine, of course.  But the situation made me hearken back to an idea I'd seen on Soulemama a few months before--all white napkins. 

Sounds pretentious, maybe, but it's actually brilliant.  White bleaches, and it generally matches itself. You can have a whole set of mismatchy white napkins, but they still go together.  

And, as I wasn't aware of before but am now, you can get white napkins super cheaply at rummage sales.  I got 32 pretty, vintage-y looking things for $4.

They were a little aged at first, but after a good soak in hot water and oxygen bleach, only 7 of them still have a few little yellowed spots.  The other 25 are bright white and ready to go!

And where did that other dollar go, you ask?  You'll see tomorrow!

Kitchen Afternoons

Pick an afternoon in our kitchen these days and you'll probably see a lot of this.

Basil being rinsed and made into pesto.

Tomatoes being roasted and frozen for sauce and soups.

And just about every other form of vegetation being pickled--thus far, cucumbers, peppers, and okra.

I'm still not getting quite as many of our own tomatoes as I'd like, but they're slowly coming around.  And, to the credit of our every-few-days squash bug torture sessions (I hop up and down on them until they're dead, Sweet Husband cuts them in half with garden shears), there is one little pumpkin getting started in our pumpkin patch.  Hopefully brothers and sisters will follow.

The Fair

Going to the fair--as we did last week--always gives me about ten thousand ideas.  

Like, would the chickens like it if a giant bunny came to live with them?  Could we find a really small, quiet goat to live in our backyard?  Should I enter some knitting next year?

And will our loofah gourds really get this big?  Our plants are looking gorgeous, which is no small feat given the temperatures these past few weeks, but we don't have any gourds starting yet.  I have my heart set on having homegrown loofahs to give away for Christmas, so I hope they pick up the pace soon.

The Garlic Harvest

From four bulbs of garlic planted way back in October, we got something close to fifty new bulbs this year.

I think that's sort of a miracle.  Particularly, when you consider that other than putting them in the ground in October and taking them out in early July, I didn't have to lift a finger to keep them alive.  

I kid you not, I didn't even water them.

After digging them up, I let them cure hanging in my shed for most of July.  Then I sat outside for twenty minutes the other day with a glass of iced plum tea and cleaned them up a bit--nipping off the roots and gently brushing off any dirt that was still clinging.  Now they're waiting in the basement, ready to be used as needed.  From my experience, they'll keep just fine into the Spring.

Have I mentioned (a time or two or twenty) how much I love growing things that are this easy?

Egg Watch 2010

As of last Monday, the ducks are 14 weeks old.  A week from next Monday, the chicks will be 20 weeks old.  From my research, those are absolutely the earliest ages at which we can expect them to start laying eggs. 

With the heat the way it has been, I don't actually think they'll be laying for a bit yet still.  I don't think they'll be doing much of anything besides hugging the blocks of ice we leave out for them or (in the ducks' case) floating in the pool.  However, it pays to be prepared, so this weekend Sweet Husband installed three little nest boxes in their coop.

In the next few days, I want to get wooden eggs to put in the nests (supposedly that helps them get the idea), and then...we wait.

Steadily Puttering Away in the AC

 

 
Inside.  On the couch.  In front of a blessed air conditioning vent with my feet propped up, knitting away for the small one--well, maybe not all for my small one, but certainly for some small one somewhere.

From the top down...a pair of Fall colored legwarmies...some wee tweed booties...an owl tuque (can you see the little owls peeking out?)...and another bib from cotton scraps.