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Harp peg loom : fabric and daffodil weft

(re-post)

Warping the backstrap loom is in a stall.  It has to do with a) this being the first time I have actually warped it to be used as a backstrap.  I have used the heddle on a warp between ends on the day bed with ties as the weft:  worked just fine.  b) putting the full quota of warp threads on - 917, I think - well, okay somewhere around 80.  c) wondering, as I was trying to get all those threads of an equal tautness,  if there was an easier way, and then,  what would Google suggest.  d) coming up with a young man sitting in a park and warping a backstrap loom with pre-measured threads and putting them through the heddle before they were attached at either end and smiling the whole time. e) after several attempts,  not smiling, to redeem my  warped-but-not-really-warped backstrap loom decided to likely cut all those threads off and start again ....  but first .....  got out one of the peg looms recently acquired at a garage sale.

Warped it with 16 warp threads in about 8 minutes,  using Irish flax trolling line (flea market find).  The sturdy warp called for a sturdy weft.

A stretchy fabric from a church sale (purchased with the intent of turning it into scrunched material for an energy garment) from which I had already chopped off a piece but not yet scrunched, was cut into strips.  I am very fond of electric scissors;  I am rapturous over cordless electric scissors.

The first few inches.  Satisfactory.  The material packs nicely with pleasing texture.  The dried daffs are introduced.

Yes.  The bodkins for the shuttle and heddle to give a shed when introducing the daffs work well.

Holding the peg loom like this and 'strumming' the warp strings in sequence for the shuttle, made me think of a harp.

The process invited stopping and gazing and admiring.  I obliged.

That's all for now.

Posted on April 11, 2011 at 07:31 PM | Permalink

Warping the backstrap loom is in a stall.  It has to do with a) this being the first time I have actually warped it to be used as a backstrap.  I have used the heddle on a warp between ends on the day bed with ties as the weft:  worked just fine.  b) putting the full quota of warp threads on - 917, I think - well, okay somewhere around 80.  c) wondering, as I was trying to get all those threads of an equal tautness,  if there was an easier way, and then,  what would Google suggest.  d) coming up with a young man sitting in a park and warping a backstrap loom with pre-measured threads and putting them through the heddle before they were attached at either end and smiling the whole time. e) after several attempts,  not smiling, to redeem my  warped-but-not-really-warped backstrap loom decided to likely cut all those threads off and start again ....  but first .....  got out one of the peg looms recently acquired at a garage sale.

Warped it with 16 warp threads in about 8 minutes,  using Irish flax trolling line (flea market find).  The sturdy warp called for a sturdy weft.

A stretchy fabric from a church sale (purchased with the intent of turning it into scrunched material for an energy garment) from which I had already chopped off a piece but not yet scrunched, was cut into strips.  I am very fond of electric scissors;  I am rapturous over cordless electric scissors.

The first few inches.  Satisfactory.  The material packs nicely with pleasing texture.  The dried daffs are introduced.

Yes.  The bodkins for the shuttle and heddle to give a shed when introducing the daffs work well.

Holding the peg loom like this and 'strumming' the warp strings in sequence for the shuttle, made me think of a harp.

The process invited stopping and gazing and admiring.  I obliged.

That's all for now.

BIRD BEHAVIOUR

(re-post)

Yesterday morning at the Deli the crow who won me in a poker game (or whatever it is crows do to establish humanitory) ignored the piece of bagel but eagerly hopped toward another offer of peanut. Good lord, even the birds are affected by Atkins, thought I. Then, willing to test this bubble of a theory, I soaked a piece of bagel in tea and put it down. Sure enough, bagel was eaten - but only half of it! When crow John Wayne'd it over to consider a peanut meant for the sparrows a sparrow swooped across and lifted away the piece of bagel. Crow glanced back over shoulder at the theft. If it made a comment I missed it.

But I did get to thinking about all the to-do (is this how it is spelled?) around food. Atkins, Eat Right for Your Blood Type, chew each mouthful a hundred times, One Bowl, Eating Awareness Training.......... Ooodles more. Except for the last two the enjoyment of food seems to be lost in the issues. Which I find really sad. So I sighed, and tried to pay attention, to eating my own pieces of bagel, with their dollops of peanut butter, slowly, and with enjoyment.

Posted on March 30, 2004 at 07:11 AM | Permalink

But I did get to thinking about all the to-do (is this how it is spelled?) around food. Atkins, Eat Right for Your Blood Type, chew each mouthful a hundred times, One Bowl, Eating Awareness Training.......... Ooodles more. Except for the last two the enjoyment of food seems to be lost in the issues. Which I find really sad. So I sighed, and tried to pay attention, to eating my own pieces of bagel, with their dollops of peanut butter, slowly, and with enjoyment.

Blossoms! Lining the streets.

(re-post)

Yesterday I strolled View Street which is lined with flowering trees from Cook to Douglas.  I thought about plum blossoms and cherry blossoms and Japan.  

The trees are a month late blooming this year.  Usually you can be casual about a flower walk,  see them in bloom while passing in a car and plan to come back in a few days or a week or so and have them still in full bloom.

Not this year.

There is some catching up to do.  The blooms were hardly out when the leaves began to appear.

Splendid .  Different.

This morning, walking toward town along Fort just past Moss,  in light rain,  this tree was encountered.

Magnificent.

Urban orchards.  

Posted on March 21, 2011 at 12:27 PM | Permalink

Yesterday I strolled View Street which is lined with flowering trees from Cook to Douglas.  I thought about plum blossoms and cherry blossoms and Japan.  

The trees are a month late blooming this year.  Usually you can be casual about a flower walk,  see them in bloom while passing in a car and plan to come back in a few days or a week or so and have them still in full bloom.

Not this year.

There is some catching up to do.  The blooms were hardly out when the leaves began to appear.

Splendid .  Different.

This morning, walking toward town along Fort just past Moss,  in light rain,  this tree was encountered.

Magnificent.

Urban orchards.  

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

 

MacNamara’s Band

Song by Bing Crosby and The Jesters

 

 

Oh, me name is MacNamara, I'm the leader of the band
Although we're few in numbers, we're the finest in the land
We play at wakes and weddings and at every fancy ball
And when we play the funerals, we play the March from Saul

Oh, the drums go bang and the cymbals clang and the horns they blaze away
McCarthy pumps the old bassoon while I the pipes do play
And Henessee Tennessee tootles the flute and the music is something grand
A credit to old Ireland is MacNamara's band

Right now we are rehearsing for a very swell affair
The annual celebration, all the gentry will be there
When General Grant to Ireland came he took me by the hand
Says he, "I never saw the likes of MacNamara's Band"

Oh, the drums go bang and the cymbals clang and the horns they blaze away
McCarthy pumps the old bassoon while I the pipes do play
And Henessee Tennessee tootles the flute and the music is something grand
A credit to old Ireland is MacNamara's band

Oh, my name is Uncle Julius and from Sweden I did come
To play with MacNamara's Band and beat the big bass drum
And when I march along the street the ladies think I'm grand
They shout, "There's Uncle Julius playing with an Irish band!"

Oh, I wear a bunch of shamrocks and a uniform of green
And I'm the funniest lookin' Swede that you have ever seen
There is O'Brians, O'Ryans, O'Sheehans and Meehans, they come from Ireland
But, by yimminy, I'm the only Swede in MacNamara's Band

Oh, the drums go bang and the cymbals clang and the horns they blaze away
McCarthy pumps the old bassoon while I the pipes do play
And Henessee Tennessee tootles the flute and the music is something grand
A credit to old Ireland is MacNamara's band

That's MacNamara

Numbers

(re-post)

Do numbers have power in themselves? I really haven't yet come up with a definite answer on this.

Certainly enough experiences around such a notion convince me that something is going on! And I will choose one number over another or let myself be guided in a decision by numbers or look to number sources for direction. Why not.

For the moment I think the key is awareness. Opening to the possibility. If I think the number eight is about prosperity and I see a license plate with three eights on it I am likely to open more to that prosperity channel in me and be receptive to the abundance around me, look down and see the loonie on the sidewalk that several people have just walked by, 'chance' upon a friend who invites me to lunch, find a cheque in the mail along with the bills, delight in the wealth of a perfectly fitting pair of shoes.

Posted on March 05, 2004 at 10:17 AM | Permalink

Do numbers have power in themselves? I really haven't yet come up with a definite answer on this.

Certainly enough experiences around such a notion convince me that something is going on! And I will choose one number over another or let myself be guided in a decision by numbers or look to number sources for direction. Why not.

For the moment I think the key is awareness. Opening to the possibility. If I think the number eight is about prosperity and I see a license plate with three eights on it I am likely to open more to that prosperity channel in me and be receptive to the abundance around me, look down and see the loonie on the sidewalk that several people have just walked by, 'chance' upon a friend who invites me to lunch, find a cheque in the mail along with the bills, delight in the wealth of a perfectly fitting pair of shoes.

 

Springtime ; Victoria BC

(re-post)

Spring begins in Victoria sometime in December, just before the 'official' end (calendar-wise) of autumn.  It begins with blossoms on the decorative fruit trees along Hillside Avenue and flowers on bushes on Caledonia by Quadra and scented English violets in various gardens and winter pansies being planted in civic flowerbeds - at least these are what I notice first.   

Winter happens in the midst - sometimes snow - usually short-lived - and chilly cold rather than frigid cold - and days stingy of light . 

Then in February our city orchards begin to bloom.  This is a vista along View Street where the trees are at their finest for blossoms.  Soon they will begin to shower down petals and this is magical.

It's different from springtime in Ontario where I lived for many years.  It's different.  It's springtime in February in a Victoria climate. 

A stop and stare up into the heights of a tree that has put forth such an exquisite  expression of beauty  will reward  both the viewer and the viewed on many levels .   You can feel the gratitude of a tree being admired.

Sometimes staying in the moment leads to a sudden leap into the past:  admiring this pink lady today on  a street where construction was happening below brought two images to mind: engrossed thusly in India with the sounds and smells of scooters around me;  engrossed thusly in my beloved southern Ontario with the scent of freshly ploughed earth joining the fragrance of the flowers.

This newborn state of Spring is so fleeting that the wish not to miss it is accompanied by that slight longing at the sight of it knowing that now it has happened it soon will be gone and an appreciation that seems to expand as I grow older of the time of anticipation. 

I seem to have missed the 'haze' stage of willow trees this year - darn - they are now in tiny baby leaf form:  I must have blinked.

Lilac bud. Essence of lilac.  Perfection. 

Posted on March 07, 2008 at 03:16 AM | Permalink

 

Posted on March 12, 2024 at 05:02 AM | Permalink

(re-post)

Spring begins in Victoria sometime in December, just before the 'official' end (calendar-wise) of autumn.  It begins with blossoms on the decorative fruit trees along Hillside Avenue and flowers on bushes on Caledonia by Quadra and scented English violets in various gardens and winter pansies being planted in civic flowerbeds - at least these are what I notice first.   

Winter happens in the midst - sometimes snow - usually short-lived - and chilly cold rather than frigid cold - and days stingy of light . 

Then in February our city orchards begin to bloom.  This is a vista along View Street where the trees are at their finest for blossoms.  Soon they will begin to shower down petals and this is magical.

It's different from springtime in Ontario where I lived for many years.  It's different.  It's springtime in February in a Victoria climate. 

A stop and stare up into the heights of a tree that has put forth such an exquisite  expression of beauty  will reward  both the viewer and the viewed on many levels .   You can feel the gratitude of a tree being admired.

Sometimes staying in the moment leads to a sudden leap into the past:  admiring this pink lady today on  a street where construction was happening below brought two images to mind: engrossed thusly in India with the sounds and smells of scooters around me;  engrossed thusly in my beloved southern Ontario with the scent of freshly ploughed earth joining the fragrance of the flowers.

This newborn state of Spring is so fleeting that the wish not to miss it is accompanied by that slight longing at the sight of it knowing that now it has happened it soon will be gone and an appreciation that seems to expand as I grow older of the time of anticipation. 

I seem to have missed the 'haze' stage of willow trees this year - darn - they are now in tiny baby leaf form:  I must have blinked.

Lilac bud. Essence of lilac.  Perfection. 

Posted on March 07, 2008 at 03:16 AM | Permalink

 

Spring begins in Victoria sometime in December, just before the 'official' end (calendar-wise) of autumn.  It begins with blossoms on the decorative fruit trees along Hillside Avenue and flowers on bushes on Caledonia by Quadra and scented English violets in various gardens and winter pansies being planted in civic flowerbeds - at least these are what I notice first.   

Winter happens in the midst - sometimes snow - usually short-lived - and chilly cold rather than frigid cold - and days stingy of light . 

Then in February our city orchards begin to bloom.  This is a vista along View Street where the trees are at their finest for blossoms.  Soon they will begin to shower down petals and this is magical.

It's different from springtime in Ontario where I lived for many years.  It's different.  It's springtime in February in a Victoria climate. 

A stop and stare up into the heights of a tree that has put forth such an exquisite  expression of beauty  will reward  both the viewer and the viewed on many levels .   You can feel the gratitude of a tree being admired.

Sometimes staying in the moment leads to a sudden leap into the past:  admiring this pink lady today on  a street where construction was happening below brought two images to mind: engrossed thusly in India with the sounds and smells of scooters around me;  engrossed thusly in my beloved southern Ontario with the scent of freshly ploughed earth joining the fragrance of the flowers.

This newborn state of Spring is so fleeting that the wish not to miss it is accompanied by that slight longing at the sight of it knowing that now it has happened it soon will be gone and an appreciation that seems to expand as I grow older of the time of anticipation. 

I seem to have missed the 'haze' stage of willow trees this year - darn - they are now in tiny baby leaf form:  I must have blinked.

Lilac bud. Essence of lilac.  Perfection. 

(re-post)

Spring begins in Victoria sometime in December, just before the 'official' end (calendar-wise) of autumn.  It begins with blossoms on the decorative fruit trees along Hillside Avenue and flowers on bushes on Caledonia by Quadra and scented English violets in various gardens and winter pansies being planted in civic flowerbeds - at least these are what I notice first.   

Winter happens in the midst - sometimes snow - usually short-lived - and chilly cold rather than frigid cold - and days stingy of light . 

Then in February our city orchards begin to bloom.  This is a vista along View Street where the trees are at their finest for blossoms.  Soon they will begin to shower down petals and this is magical.

It's different from springtime in Ontario where I lived for many years.  It's different.  It's springtime in February in a Victoria climate. 

A stop and stare up into the heights of a tree that has put forth such an exquisite  expression of beauty  will reward  both the viewer and the viewed on many levels .   You can feel the gratitude of a tree being admired.

Sometimes staying in the moment leads to a sudden leap into the past:  admiring this pink lady today on  a street where construction was happening below brought two images to mind: engrossed thusly in India with the sounds and smells of scooters around me;  engrossed thusly in my beloved southern Ontario with the scent of freshly ploughed earth joining the fragrance of the flowers.

This newborn state of Spring is so fleeting that the wish not to miss it is accompanied by that slight longing at the sight of it knowing that now it has happened it soon will be gone and an appreciation that seems to expand as I grow older of the time of anticipation. 

I seem to have missed the 'haze' stage of willow trees this year - darn - they are now in tiny baby leaf form:  I must have blinked.

Lilac bud. Essence of lilac.  Perfection. 

Teeny tiny tutorial : leaf prints on fabric

 

(re-post)

This honouring of the magnificence of autumn leaves on a linen vest was done many years ago and I decided it was time to do an update but would take a picture before recycling it.  An hour or so later, while wearing the vest, I was pulling it closer around me and it ripped down the front.
The replacement had been started....talk about timing....and is the means of the how-to below.

But first -

-  some napkins also leaf blessed

Here is how I do it:  the leaf is painted on its veiny side with acrylic paint and then placed, paint side down, on the fabric.

A paper towel is put over the leaf and then a roller is used to press the image onto the material.  A rolling pin or round bottle can be used.  Sometimes I use my fingers to more clearly define areas.  And yes, I lift the paper towel and the leaf (carefully) to check on the progress.

When it is what I want I peel off the leaf and....

stand and stare at the result.

The new vest gets hung up so the leaf can dry and I discover that I have forgotten to put down something between the garment and the table.

With a sigh and a chuckle I go and get a wet cloth.

Posted on October 28, 2008 at 02:11 AM | Permalink

 

Posted on March 20, 2024 at 05:00 AM | Permalink

(re-post)

This honouring of the magnificence of autumn leaves on a linen vest was done many years ago and I decided it was time to do an update but would take a picture before recycling it.  An hour or so later, while wearing the vest, I was pulling it closer around me and it ripped down the front.
The replacement had been started....talk about timing....and is the means of the how-to below.

But first -

-  some napkins also leaf blessed

Here is how I do it:  the leaf is painted on its veiny side with acrylic paint and then placed, paint side down, on the fabric.

A paper towel is put over the leaf and then a roller is used to press the image onto the material.  A rolling pin or round bottle can be used.  Sometimes I use my fingers to more clearly define areas.  And yes, I lift the paper towel and the leaf (carefully) to check on the progress.

When it is what I want I peel off the leaf and....

stand and stare at the result.

The new vest gets hung up so the leaf can dry and I discover that I have forgotten to put down something between the garment and the table.

With a sigh and a chuckle I go and get a wet cloth.

Posted on October 28, 2008 at 02:11 AM | Permalink

 

This honouring of the magnificence of autumn leaves on a linen vest was done many years ago and I decided it was time to do an update but would take a picture before recycling it.  An hour or so later, while wearing the vest, I was pulling it closer around me and it ripped down the front.
The replacement had been started....talk about timing....and is the means of the how-to below.

But first -

-  some napkins also leaf blessed

Here is how I do it:  the leaf is painted on its veiny side with acrylic paint and then placed, paint side down, on the fabric.

A paper towel is put over the leaf and then a roller is used to press the image onto the material.  A rolling pin or round bottle can be used.  Sometimes I use my fingers to more clearly define areas.  And yes, I lift the paper towel and the leaf (carefully) to check on the progress.

When it is what I want I peel off the leaf and....

stand and stare at the result.

The new vest gets hung up so the leaf can dry and I discover that I have forgotten to put down something between the garment and the table.

With a sigh and a chuckle I go and get a wet cloth.

(re-post)

This honouring of the magnificence of autumn leaves on a linen vest was done many years ago and I decided it was time to do an update but would take a picture before recycling it.  An hour or so later, while wearing the vest, I was pulling it closer around me and it ripped down the front.
The replacement had been started....talk about timing....and is the means of the how-to below.

But first -

-  some napkins also leaf blessed

Here is how I do it:  the leaf is painted on its veiny side with acrylic paint and then placed, paint side down, on the fabric.

A paper towel is put over the leaf and then a roller is used to press the image onto the material.  A rolling pin or round bottle can be used.  Sometimes I use my fingers to more clearly define areas.  And yes, I lift the paper towel and the leaf (carefully) to check on the progress.

When it is what I want I peel off the leaf and....

stand and stare at the result.

The new vest gets hung up so the leaf can dry and I discover that I have forgotten to put down something between the garment and the table.

With a sigh and a chuckle I go and get a wet cloth.