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Crows.....update

I googled crow.net and came up with a lot of information!

Crows

 

I just came across my copy of The Language of Crows by Michael Westerfield which states "He has been coordinator of the crows.net project since its inception in 1999".  I have not read it for ages and am enjoying it immensely.  I am not sure if the site is still in effect.   The copyright by the author is 2011 :  publisher ASHFORD PRESS in  Willimantic Connecticut. 

 

 

 

Victoria BC SNOW!!!!

(re-post)

(it snowed again last night - not much - but I found this in the archives - and I am "shuddering".  I hope it melts....soonest!  I am not in the place I was in this post from 2012)

The deck at 8 a.m.  I had shovelled it an hour or so earlier while still dark because I noticed bird marks in the snow and wanted to get seeds down. Seriously snowing.  

I have a genuine snow shovel.  A lot of Victoria residents don't - I didn't for many years - and rely on garden shovels, rakes,  brooms,  a real estate for- sale sign,  cardboard,  foot action,  ....

Yesterday I saw a man come out of the hardware store carrying a real snow shovel;  he was wearing shorts; it was in one of the twenty minutes of sun.

Today even I, the eternal optimist, do not think we are going to be having a period of sun in which anyone would wear shorts. Even the posties.  Well, maybe the posties. The one I saw yesterday was wearing shorts - not in a sunny session - but he was sprinting along his route.

I went for the morning walk.  Owl was not in her usual perch.  

I wondered what animal had made these prints; they started and stopped at a tree;  I could not tell which direction they were going.

Only two other people and I passed each other;  she told me she was on her way to work;  he was on a cell phone and his greeting to me was a nod.

Three people were waiting at the bus stop around the corner.  

Schools are closed.  The LIBRARIES are closed!!!!  I don't want to know if the Wednesday church thrift store is open:  I could likely get my car out of the  courtyard and down the hill and onto the road which was plowed earlier and onto the main road which looks slushy and navigate the route to the store .... but I walked around the car and looked at all the snow on it and the snow still falling ...  BC Transit will likely be my mode of transportation today.  The grocery stores will be open ... but the libraries are closed;  I do not recall them ever closing due to snow.  Selective memory, likely.

The deck got shovelled - again.  

I came indoors, kicking the snow from my boots automatically  against the door frame and thinking how I had spent forty-four years in Ontario winters from St. Thomas to North Bay with Gravenhurst and Toronto in between.  And how these few days of snow were nothing compared to that. And how I had acquired 'snow smarts' across all those years, like getting rid of snow on boots.  And how it was going up to eight degrees on Friday.  And how the birds were singing.  And I had library books to last me several days. And how I had finally prepared myself for these mini-winters with snowmobile boots and a boot-taker-off'er and warm puffy mitts.

Then I noticed my shoulders were up around my ears.  And as I relaxed my shudders (I really did type that!) - I mean shoulders   -  I smiled and sighed.

Posted on January 18, 2012 at 10:47 AM | Permalink

The deck at 8 a.m.  I had shovelled it an hour or so earlier while still dark because I noticed bird marks in the snow and wanted to get seeds down. Seriously snowing.  

I have a genuine snow shovel.  A lot of Victoria residents don't - I didn't for many years - and rely on garden shovels, rakes,  brooms,  a real estate for- sale sign,  cardboard,  foot action,  ....

Yesterday I saw a man come out of the hardware store carrying a real snow shovel;  he was wearing shorts; it was in one of the twenty minutes of sun.

Today even I, the eternal optimist, do not think we are going to be having a period of sun in which anyone would wear shorts. Even the posties.  Well, maybe the posties. The one I saw yesterday was wearing shorts - not in a sunny session - but he was sprinting along his route.

I went for the morning walk.  Owl was not in her usual perch.  

I wondered what animal had made these prints; they started and stopped at a tree;  I could not tell which direction they were going.

Only two other people and I passed each other;  she told me she was on her way to work;  he was on a cell phone and his greeting to me was a nod.

Three people were waiting at the bus stop around the corner.  

Schools are closed.  The LIBRARIES are closed!!!!  I don't want to know if the Wednesday church thrift store is open:  I could likely get my car out of the  courtyard and down the hill and onto the road which was plowed earlier and onto the main road which looks slushy and navigate the route to the store .... but I walked around the car and looked at all the snow on it and the snow still falling ...  BC Transit will likely be my mode of transportation today.  The grocery stores will be open ... but the libraries are closed;  I do not recall them ever closing due to snow.  Selective memory, likely.

The deck got shovelled - again.  

I came indoors, kicking the snow from my boots automatically  against the door frame and thinking how I had spent forty-four years in Ontario winters from St. Thomas to North Bay with Gravenhurst and Toronto in between.  And how these few days of snow were nothing compared to that. And how I had acquired 'snow smarts' across all those years, like getting rid of snow on boots.  And how it was going up to eight degrees on Friday.  And how the birds were singing.  And I had library books to last me several days. And how I had finally prepared myself for these mini-winters with snowmobile boots and a boot-taker-off'er and warm puffy mitts.

Then I noticed my shoulders were up around my ears.  And as I relaxed my shudders (I really did type that!) - I mean shoulders   -  I smiled and sighed.

Back strap loom weaving.....

I went online and came up with ooodles of instructions on how to use a back strap loom - mine is called a Maya one.  

Weaving with meaning in the warp and the weft . (re-post from Aug 24 2011)

(re-post)

This lifelong 'playing with fibre'  fascination teaches me so much about myself and others, about the materials and  their characteristics, about  what has been done and the "wonder if...." 's of the potential and  the happiness  of connecting with others who share the enjoyment,.

I was taught to spin using a potato and a chopstick and I cannot say I 'got it' immediately;  there was an attraction, though, and spindles began to appear at garage sales and then fleece and .... I gave it another try.  And later, another.  The day came when I 'got it', when that 'inner knowing' happened.  Oh!  I don't mean that I achieved a certain standard.  No - I hope I always retain the ability to spin as if it is my first or second time - it was the hands suddenly  'remembering' how to do it and the  feeling of being part of a long long line of people who had taken a handful of fluff and some sort of a stick and a disk and twirled  it and let the weight keep it twirling and joined in the fluff and .... fibre.

Nowadays I explore using polyester batting as the fluff because many years of  working with animal fleece  and rope and rough twine and dusty string tickles my nose too much and it is hard to spin when you are sneezing!

That all has meaning.  

As does taking a piece of fabric and draping it around myself, this way and that, pinning and folding and cutting and folding and sewing a bit and coming up with a garment,  an article of clothing that feels good and fun to wear.  It has meaning.

I finished  this on the back strap loom and considered a number of means of making it wearable.  Something is evolving but it is not here yet;  in the meantime I joined it simply with a safety pin and  it perches on my shoulders like a toddler being carried thusly.

Now that it is 'out of my hands', so to speak, I can observe it more objectively.

And I realized it embodies my wish for meaning in my life.  It is full of meaning.

For the warp I used this rayon, the spools a fibre archeology find on a thrift store dig, and from the label on the core and good ol' Google I traced them to a place on Rhode Island, no longer in existence, but was likely twenty or more years ago.

Used here as the weft  are sprigs of Australian bushmint, one of my favourite scented plants, which has grown big and bold and bushy on verandah, deck and now kitchen over a number of years.  The fragrance is exquisite and  a wearable garden is high on my list of delights.  The leaves do dry and crumble and leave a scented trail of my day.  The stems retain their perfume and respond to a scratch-and-sniff.

The linen yarn here was also a fibre archeology treasure discovered at a church sale and I traced it to a company and store that was in Sweden in the 1960's.  I could get no history on it since then but it pleases me to think someone had it in her (or his!) stash across half a century.

The bits and pieces - thrums - from other fibre projects get saved and used as weft.  

I cannot say I recall the origin of them all - but they do give me a history.

Here I am experimenting with chunks and introducing them as weft using my hands in the shed.  There is something deeply satisfying about such direct contact with the loom, the materials.

These are strips from an old pair of Super Hero pyjamas and 'weaving in' a grandson makes me grin.

I have yet to ask him what he thinks about this;  I look forward to his 4-year-old response.

A chunky chunk;  wanted to see how the warp would receive it;  I like how it dealt with being confined by expanding and opining freedom.

More chunks and stretchy denim strips and letting them 'drift' through the pickets of the warp.

I am also discovering how the rigid heddle on the back strap loom which is used as the beater can do its job horizontally  but is flexible enough to compress vertically and create waves and ridges!

Like here.

It feels like sculpting on a flat plane.

Like so.  With more of the stretchy denim but this time wider strips that are more herd-like than individual.

This is an earlier piece of weaving that became a bag using simple folds. 

With the lens inviting focus I took the time to gaze at it in detail again.  

The 'icicles' (ascending and descending patterns) are Saori style;  I used two different colours for the warp;  the strips of fabric fleece are from  a lounge robe made last year as the cooler weather approached.  

I wonder if that bag design could be used as a hat with ear flaps if the single back-to-front seam was adjusted .....

Posted on November 20, 2018 at 07:30 PM | Permalink

This lifelong 'playing with fibre'  fascination teaches me so much about myself and others, about the materials and  their characteristics, about  what has been done and the "wonder if...." 's of the potential and  the happiness  of connecting with others who share the enjoyment,.

I was taught to spin using a potato and a chopstick and I cannot say I 'got it' immediately;  there was an attraction, though, and spindles began to appear at garage sales and then fleece and .... I gave it another try.  And later, another.  The day came when I 'got it', when that 'inner knowing' happened.  Oh!  I don't mean that I achieved a certain standard.  No - I hope I always retain the ability to spin as if it is my first or second time - it was the hands suddenly  'remembering' how to do it and the  feeling of being part of a long long line of people who had taken a handful of fluff and some sort of a stick and a disk and twirled  it and let the weight keep it twirling and joined in the fluff and .... fibre.

Nowadays I explore using polyester batting as the fluff because many years of  working with animal fleece  and rope and rough twine and dusty string tickles my nose too much and it is hard to spin when you are sneezing!

That all has meaning.  

As does taking a piece of fabric and draping it around myself, this way and that, pinning and folding and cutting and folding and sewing a bit and coming up with a garment,  an article of clothing that feels good and fun to wear.  It has meaning.

I finished  this on the back strap loom and considered a number of means of making it wearable.  Something is evolving but it is not here yet;  in the meantime I joined it simply with a safety pin and  it perches on my shoulders like a toddler being carried thusly.

Now that it is 'out of my hands', so to speak, I can observe it more objectively.

And I realized it embodies my wish for meaning in my life.  It is full of meaning.

For the warp I used this rayon, the spools a fibre archeology find on a thrift store dig, and from the label on the core and good ol' Google I traced them to a place on Rhode Island, no longer in existence, but was likely twenty or more years ago.

Used here as the weft  are sprigs of Australian bushmint, one of my favourite scented plants, which has grown big and bold and bushy on verandah, deck and now kitchen over a number of years.  The fragrance is exquisite and  a wearable garden is high on my list of delights.  The leaves do dry and crumble and leave a scented trail of my day.  The stems retain their perfume and respond to a scratch-and-sniff.

The linen yarn here was also a fibre archeology treasure discovered at a church sale and I traced it to a company and store that was in Sweden in the 1960's.  I could get no history on it since then but it pleases me to think someone had it in her (or his!) stash across half a century.

The bits and pieces - thrums - from other fibre projects get saved and used as weft.  

I cannot say I recall the origin of them all - but they do give me a history.

Here I am experimenting with chunks and introducing them as weft using my hands in the shed.  There is something deeply satisfying about such direct contact with the loom, the materials.

These are strips from an old pair of Super Hero pyjamas and 'weaving in' a grandson makes me grin.

I have yet to ask him what he thinks about this;  I look forward to his 4-year-old response.

A chunky chunk;  wanted to see how the warp would receive it;  I like how it dealt with being confined by expanding and opining freedom.

More chunks and stretchy denim strips and letting them 'drift' through the pickets of the warp.

I am also discovering how the rigid heddle on the back strap loom which is used as the beater can do its job horizontally  but is flexible enough to compress vertically and create waves and ridges!

Like here.

It feels like sculpting on a flat plane.

Like so.  With more of the stretchy denim but this time wider strips that are more herd-like than individual.

This is an earlier piece of weaving that became a bag using simple folds. 

With the lens inviting focus I took the time to gaze at it in detail again.  

The 'icicles' (ascending and descending patterns) are Saori style;  I used two different colours for the warp;  the strips of fabric fleece are from  a lounge robe made last year as the cooler weather approached.  

I wonder if that bag design could be used as a hat with ear flaps if the single back-to-front seam was adjusted .....

'Old' 35 mm film canister makes a great change 'purse'

(re-post from Jan 2 2012)

I was digging change out of my wallet and commenting that it was a bit irksome as the zippered compartment meant for other-than-bills money was narrow and not finger- or eye- friendly  when the church thrift store lady cashier said she used a 35 mm film holder.

"But it wouldn't fit the width of loonies and toonies,"  I said.

"Yes it will," she said.

It does!  It does!  Thank you, Betty!

And this technique that I learned ages ago from my dentist's receptionist (thank you, Jillian!) enhanced the repurposing of  the canister.

It's very simple, fun, and the effect is startling and satisfying.  You take plain masking tape and rip off pieces at random and stick them on the surface.

Then rub it with shoe polish; experiment with more or less for different effects.  Let dry.  Buff for a shine or let remain a matte finish.

Money is contained nicely, pours out easily into palm, is immediatlely visible, and it slides back into the container as satisfactorily.

I don't know what this is called but you can decorate any surface with it:  books, tins, furniture, stair risers,  walls  etc.etc.etc.

P.S. As I was getting ready to go out on the daily errands and was tucking the earth-coloured change holder into my purse,  I decided a green one would be nice to have as well;  thing is, I don't have green shoe polish. Actually I don't recall ever seeing green shoe polish. But I do have green acrylic paints.

This 'last minute to leaving' idea resulted in a green change holder (proving it really is simple and quick to produce!).  The acrylic paint is more staunch*  than shoe polish and required using fingers to spread it around and have it adhere, but it worked:  when I got home it had dried and was nature-mottled green; it pleases me. 

* I am aware "staunch" is usually a verb but I am using it here as a noun because it suits  the situation.

Posted on March 29, 2019 at 09:29 AM | Permalink | Comments

I was digging change out of my wallet and commenting that it was a bit irksome as the zippered compartment meant for other-than-bills money was narrow and not finger- or eye- friendly  when the church thrift store lady cashier said she used a 35 mm film holder.

"But it wouldn't fit the width of loonies and toonies,"  I said.

"Yes it will," she said.

It does!  It does!  Thank you, Betty!

And this technique that I learned ages ago from my dentist's receptionist (thank you, Jillian!) enhanced the repurposing of  the canister.

It's very simple, fun, and the effect is startling and satisfying.  You take plain masking tape and rip off pieces at random and stick them on the surface.

Then rub it with shoe polish; experiment with more or less for different effects.  Let dry.  Buff for a shine or let remain a matte finish.

Money is contained nicely, pours out easily into palm, is immediatlely visible, and it slides back into the container as satisfactorily.

I don't know what this is called but you can decorate any surface with it:  books, tins, furniture, stair risers,  walls  etc.etc.etc.

P.S. As I was getting ready to go out on the daily errands and was tucking the earth-coloured change holder into my purse,  I decided a green one would be nice to have as well;  thing is, I don't have green shoe polish. Actually I don't recall ever seeing green shoe polish. But I do have green acrylic paints.

This 'last minute to leaving' idea resulted in a green change holder (proving it really is simple and quick to produce!).  The acrylic paint is more staunch*  than shoe polish and required using fingers to spread it around and have it adhere, but it worked:  when I got home it had dried and was nature-mottled green; it pleases me. 

* I am aware "staunch" is usually a verb but I am using it here as a noun because it suits  the situation.

KNITTING : WITH DUST BALLS

(re-post)

I came across a most delightful book, Knitting With Dog Hair by Kendall Crolius and Anne Montgomery.  It gives techniques and terms and patterns and resources and there are some really cute pictures.  Well, I don't have a dog but cat hair is also included in the book so I have given an eye and a thought to the neighbourhood cat, Samosa.  However, what caught my attention completely (heck, as I tripped over it) was a dust ball.  What if.......  Would it.....  Has anyone tried this before......   The supply is continuous and seemingly endless.  Are dust balls really composed of mainly flaked-away human skin?  My dust balls seem to have fibre in them: Samosa does visit, as well as other feline wanderers. Hmmm.....

What I would really like is for dust balls to form from this fleece, seen drying after being washed on the deck,  now lounging on the day bed in my office. 

It was  in a large bag at a thrift store and, knowing very little about fleece, I am unsure if it is from one sheep or many and whether or not a conventional spinner would reject it as unsuitable.  It does look as if it would be a challenge to comb - card? 

I love the look of it, the feel of it, the origin of it, the fact of it sharing space in my home.

Washing it was an experience!  I was not trying - or wanting - to get rid of the lanolin (grease) or even the small sticks: it was more  problematic 'dirt' that concerned me and hot water and soap seemed to take care of that.

I've used it in a few small projects,  as is,  and would like to do more:  shape some of it into a doll.....  sew some flat onto a card......pull and twist lengths and knit with that....

For the moment  it can just laze away and - perhaps....

.....make some dust balls......

Posted on October 31, 2007 at 05:30 AM | Permalink

I came across a most delightful book, Knitting With Dog Hair by Kendall Crolius and Anne Montgomery.  It gives techniques and terms and patterns and resources and there are some really cute pictures.  Well, I don't have a dog but cat hair is also included in the book so I have given an eye and a thought to the neighbourhood cat, Samosa.  However, what caught my attention completely (heck, as I tripped over it) was a dust ball.  What if.......  Would it.....  Has anyone tried this before......   The supply is continuous and seemingly endless.  Are dust balls really composed of mainly flaked-away human skin?  My dust balls seem to have fibre in them: Samosa does visit, as well as other feline wanderers. Hmmm.....

What I would really like is for dust balls to form from this fleece, seen drying after being washed on the deck,  now lounging on the day bed in my office. 

It was  in a large bag at a thrift store and, knowing very little about fleece, I am unsure if it is from one sheep or many and whether or not a conventional spinner would reject it as unsuitable.  It does look as if it would be a challenge to comb - card? 

I love the look of it, the feel of it, the origin of it, the fact of it sharing space in my home.

Washing it was an experience!  I was not trying - or wanting - to get rid of the lanolin (grease) or even the small sticks: it was more  problematic 'dirt' that concerned me and hot water and soap seemed to take care of that.

I've used it in a few small projects,  as is,  and would like to do more:  shape some of it into a doll.....  sew some flat onto a card......pull and twist lengths and knit with that....

For the moment  it can just laze away and - perhaps....

.....make some dust balls......

KNITTING : SWEATER BAGS

(re-p0st).   (click on photos to enlarge)

One way to honour and (re)use old sweaters is to turn them into bags which can be used to carry knitting or groceries or purse items.  The one on the left is a Mary Maxim pattern sweater, likely from the Sixties or earlier.  The pink cowl-necked, bobble and cable sweater is a cotton handknit.  The tiny Cowichan was possibly made for a doll; I've used knitting needles as the handle.  The grey with English policeman is a Golden Age (Norwich) sweater,  machine knit, I would say, and a bit felted.  I removed the arms and reattached them leaving the front open to tuck things into.  All the sweaters are sewn closed at the bottom and ends of sleeves.

These are potential sweater bags,  a Cowichan,  and four other handknit ones.  The coat is doll sized, wool fabric, hand made, likely from the Fifties.  It should make an interesting little purse.

Posted on October 30, 2007 at 05:30 AM | Permalink

One way to honour and (re)use old sweaters is to turn them into bags which can be used to carry knitting or groceries or purse items.  The one on the left is a Mary Maxim pattern sweater, likely from the Sixties or earlier.  The pink cowl-necked, bobble and cable sweater is a cotton handknit.  The tiny Cowichan was possibly made for a doll; I've used knitting needles as the handle.  The grey with English policeman is a Golden Age (Norwich) sweater,  machine knit, I would say, and a bit felted.  I removed the arms and reattached them leaving the front open to tuck things into.  All the sweaters are sewn closed at the bottom and ends of sleeves.

These are potential sweater bags,  a Cowichan,  and four other handknit ones.  The coat is doll sized, wool fabric, hand made, likely from the Fifties.  It should make an interesting little purse.

Flower .... 'dancing to its own tune'

(re-post)

I saw a number of golfers out on one of the local golf courses on this next-to-last day of the year and was reminded of the boast that "you can golf year-round here".

Which then reminded me that when I had been in Victoria for a few years I realized I saw flowers blooming year round.  So I decided to be alert and verify this.  Which I did.  For an entire year.  And I did not have to 'ignore' wind or the occasional snow as golfers likely do.  Flowers were a'peeping even when that white stuff fell. 

Many flowers are 'out of sync', as is this black-eyed susan in the Art Gallery of Victoria's garden.

As are the dandelions just up the street.  And a snap dragon in a pot.  And some calendula.

I mentioned this to a native Victorian who shrugged and said,  "Oh, they're just confused."

Well, their confusion is a delight to me!

Posted on December 30, 2012 at 11:25 AM | Permalink

I saw a number of golfers out on one of the local golf courses on this next-to-last day of the year and was reminded of the boast that "you can golf year-round here".

Which then reminded me that when I had been in Victoria for a few years I realized I saw flowers blooming year round.  So I decided to be alert and verify this.  Which I did.  For an entire year.  And I did not have to 'ignore' wind or the occasional snow as golfers likely do.  Flowers were a'peeping even when that white stuff fell. 

Many flowers are 'out of sync', as is this black-eyed susan in the Art Gallery of Victoria's garden.

As are the dandelions just up the street.  And a snap dragon in a pot.  And some calendula.

I mentioned this to a native Victorian who shrugged and said,  "Oh, they're just confused."

Well, their confusion is a delight to me!

An end ..... and a beginning

(re-post)

As I was leaving for daily trip to the Village yesterday I found chickadee huddled in an explosion of fluff on the kitchen window sill.  Finches quite often do this and I assume it is to rest and warm.

When I returned the chickadee was on the ground and responded feebly to my touch.  I warmed it in my hands and then put it on a soft cloth in a box in the kitchen.

Across the hours it made no further movement.

This morning there was no life left.

It did not seem fitting to bury it in earth so I put its body in the cedar hedge.

This tree is part of the morning stroll.

It is beginning to bloom. 

Posted on December 31, 2012 at 10:22 AM | Permalink

As I was leaving for daily trip to the Village yesterday I found chickadee huddled in an explosion of fluff on the kitchen window sill.  Finches quite often do this and I assume it is to rest and warm.

When I returned the chickadee was on the ground and responded feebly to my touch.  I warmed it in my hands and then put it on a soft cloth in a box in the kitchen.

Across the hours it made no further movement.

This morning there was no life left.

It did not seem fitting to bury it in earth so I put its body in the cedar hedge.

This tree is part of the morning stroll.

It is beginning to bloom.