Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gifts. Show all posts

7/31/2016

She can't eat what?

12

Sometimes your body screams at you so loud 
there is no choice but to listen
and take heed.

I've long held the belief that the majority of modern day ailments in
Western society are, without a doubt, strongly linked to what we eat.
Or don't eat in some cases.
In the last 10 years or so I've had this belief put to the test within my own framework a
time or two, and if my current health adventure provides the same positive results that I
was blessed with before, I shall be kicking up my heels quite well thru this decade.

You know that expression about making lemonade, right?
A short tale follows ....

While over in America the other day (that's what we islanders call the mainland)
I found myself driving around in circles.  Was a hot day (for here), just past 80F, 
and I had my dear woofie with me in the car.  She loves to travel so she goes 
with me whenever possible.  Anyhoo, on this particular afternoon I was taking
care of some body testing & adjusting and my fluffy one was in need of
a cool place to be parked while I was otherwise detained.
Hence the driving in circles.
Finally, rounding a corner somewhat near a park, I spotted a wide leafy stretch
of available curbside underneath the most magnificent trees.  I was gonna
have to walk a fair bit to my destination, but the deliciously cool shady spot for my 
dear fluffy one was absolutely worth the trek.
As I got out of the car and looked up to actually identify the gorgeous 
canopy we were parked below, I stopped dead in my tracks.
For there we were underneath two enormous black walnut trees
which happened to be dropping all their fruits over sidewalk & parkway
in great profusion.

Now the backstory to my stopping dead in my tracks is that last year
I looked high and low for one of these trees because I wanted to try my hand at
brewing some black walnut dye - deep, dark, tannin-rich goodness.
I asked around amongst all my island friends - and they of their friends - and
even went so far as to place an ad in the local online news rag ...
"Who's got trees??"

Nada.  None to be found.

Some suggested I go to eastern Washington where they're farmed in abundance
and then there was the ever present option of mail-order.  But I was keen for local so I
finally put my little dream on the back burner & moved on to something else.
So this particular day, which could very easily have been viewed as one filled
with one lemon after another, suddenly had me grinning like an idiot on the roadside,
chuffed to no end that this part of my particularly grueling adventure had brought me to
the very trees I'd been seeking for so long.


All this to say (in my somewhat roundabout sort of way) there will be
a slight delay to my next posting of the  52 weeks : bead sketches  installment.
I've been somewhat sidetracked by the inner voices so I'm more than a wee bit behind
although my iron cauldron is gratefully, now quite full.

I'll be calling this my black walnut "lemonade."


11/16/2015

After the storm

21

We recently had a whopper of a gale.  A long night,
then an even longer dark day of sideways rain and rattle-the-rafters wind.
The lull that followed meant only one thing - time for beachcombing - so four-paws and I
headed out to see what we could find.  I wasn't entirely sure there'd even be a shore left.
Predictions had been ominous but living as we do on a tiny rock out in the Pacific Ocean
 we know variables can be extreme island to island.  I needed to see firsthand how our
favorite spot had fared.

Thankfully, it was not so bad really.
Bull kelp was in abundance, having woven itself down the beach in dramatic ropes.  A few
boulders that support the edge of the two lane road had been displaced and
one or two megalithic tree stumps (from Canada perhaps?) had been dredged up & tossed ashore
like toothpicks.

The donations from the sea were plentiful.


I left this red one in place.  Figured a heart rock was better doing its good business under
a big sky, near a Big Puddle, than home with me in my pocket or on my windowsill.

This particular beach is in somewhat protected waters, with San Juan Island directly to 
the east & San Juan Channel in between, so it isn't like beaches that 
face the open ocean where lots of human trash prevails
(I'll pay you five dollars if you can even find a piece of sea glass on this stretch),
but it does hold a motherlode of natural detritus ...
driftwood
stones
shells
some feathers
and lots of seaweed ... especially during storm season.


And there was our "garbage" to collect and treasure.  Hadn't seen this around
for a whole year - a reddish seaweed that makes lovely rose-colored marks when wrapped in 
cloth (especially silk) if one is game to judiciously watch temperatures in the dyepot.

Worth the whole walk, was that.
:::
Have you ever heard of the British artist, Jo Atherton?
She weaves tapestries with the flotsam from her beaches & other coasts of the world
and tells some very interesting stories ...


9/19/2014

this moment :: vintage buttons for a modern story

14



{  this moment  }
A single photo
~ no words ~
capturing a moment from the week.


A simple, special, extraordinary moment.
A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
~ SouleMama

:::

inspired by the Friday reflections at Amanda's




12/25/2013

A surprising language all their own

25


During the Victorian era, it became especially popular to attach significant meanings
to flowers and plants.
Also known as floriography, the language of flowers
was a very useful means of relaying important messages ...

Pine Cone (Pinus)  . . .  Conviviality, Life



Mullein (Verbascum)  . . .  Take courage



Poppy (Papaver)  . . .   Fantastic extravagance

Often, the meanings were positive and affirming,
but some were not - quite to the contrary, in fact.


Clematis (Clematis)  . . .  Poverty



Pansy (Viola)  . . .  Think of me



Lavender (Lavandula) . . .   Mistrust


The next time I assemble a bouquet I certainly won't be viewing the arrangement
in quite the same way as I did before reading this book  ...


The Language of Flowers, by Vanessa Diffenbaugh, had been on my library "To Read" list
for so long I'd almost given up hope of getting my hands on it [perpetually checked out]
so I was ecstatic when I found a used copy at the thrift store.
It has been much loved with many dog-ears & now I can understand why.

Every now and again a book crosses my path which feels like its my
destiny to read.  The best writers can make their readers feel this way, I think.
Without giving too much away, the heroine of this story is Victoria, a young woman
who's been in and out of foster care her entire life but has one all-embracing solace ...
a deep love of plants.
As a child she learned this Victorian language of flowers -  an era when every blossom was
assigned a deeper meaning, then used as a way to express sentiment and romantic emotions
since more outward signs were restricted - and since Victoria can't [or won't]
express her emotions either, flowers become her vehicle.

That's only a tiny nutshell of a description ... the story is beautifully complicated.
Filled with symbolism and filled with historical references,
I've barely been able to put this one down.


Amaranth (Amaranthus)  . . .  Immortality

Victoria decides at one point to assemble her own reference collection,
 so she carefully & methodically teaches herself the parameters of photography [film, not digital]
and sets out to capture her subjects with great dedication & perseverence.
The book is set in the San Francisco Bay area of California
and she visits many spots familiar to me
such as the Conservatory of Flowers in Golden Gate Park,
along with other locales I know and love oh so well [and miss to this day].
   
At the back of the book the author has included
Victoria's Dictionary of Flowers
and as I was perusing the list, recognizing many names of plants I've grown in my own garden
at one time or another,  I got the crazy idea to take a backwards gander at my own photo files
to see if I could find some items from Victoria's list.
If nothing else it would be a fun exercise in learning those elusive floriography terms.
I soon discovered flowers that one might expect to have, well, a more "positive"
emotion attached to them, 
but do not at all ...

like these two.

Currant (Ribes)  . . .  Thy frown will kill me



Rose, yellow (Rosa)  . . .   Infidelity


I just love books like this
where I'm introduced to a whole new way of looking and thinking
about something otherwise so familiar.


Rose, purple (Rosa)  . . .  Enchantment



Rose, pale peach (Rosa)  . . .   Modesty



Scabiosa (Scabiosa)  . . .  Unfortunate love



Dog (Canis lupus)  . . .  Undying devotion [my floriography]


oh hi.  how'd you get in here?

Just making sure you folks haven't fallen asleep in the petals yet ...
[chuckling happily]


Cherry blossoms (Prunus cerasus)  . . .   Impermanence


Of course, I'm a tad partial to the next one

Sweet pea (Lathyrus odorata)  . . .  Delicate pleasures


and as it happens, I have quite a lot of this next one in my garden.

Yarrow (Achillea)  . . .  Cure for a broken heart


Hmmm, what can it all mean?
I'm looking forward to spring and making that next bouquet ...


: : :


Wishing all of you who stop by here a most lovely season
of joy and beauty


P.S.   WAIT!  Have I got the holiday gift for you!   Just as I was finishing this book-related post, 
my masterful dye friend, India Flint, announced that she has put together a NEW BOOK ... 
In her words:
"it contains a technique you can do even in the smallest of apartments
and that I think you will want to do over and over again."


Go see ~ there's a preview & you can buy it now ...  over HERE on Blurb.
I treated myself to the hardback  ;>]








12/20/2013

2/12/2013

10/30/2012

Texture Tuesday ... storm

9


For those of us who are not there
we watch the news,
we listen.
We try not to worry ... too much.


Many will write about this one in the days to come.
There will be expressions of this event that go far beyond what I am capable of here ...
why, the mere thought of all the animals
and my throat closes.
I have a very hard time thinking about them, their helplessness.
Where will they go ... how will they manage.

Like a gift, 
Maya Stein's poem, her weekly offering for 10-Line Tuesday,  arrived in my mailbox filled with balm.

: : :

the geese in the mudhole

We drove by them yesterday, three hours before the storm made landfall.
They were bobbing in a lopsided circle in the shallow water, like teens
at a square dance waiting for instructions. In the car, sleeping bags, flashlights,
and a mounting urgency to find elusive safety. The trees looked reckless,
power lines dripping and swaying like my uncle's heart rate the week
before he died. Two days ago, I watched a woman feed them from a bag
of ripped-up bread, and thought about the nuisance they were, mucking the park
with their wattle and filth. Now, I envy their animal certainty, this buoyant grace
that shrinks from me each passing hour as I bend a nervous ear to the news,
while they lilt and flutter with each wave, admiring the views.


: : :


Thank you to Kim Klassen for her texture, sonnet magic,
which I applied over an iPhone shot & altered with apps.
To view more images from the group, they're HERE.


2/14/2012

The expectation of happiness...

12



...this is mine: spring is coming ~ the hummers will return, and shortly after, the roses.
Ohhh, the roses...

It's Texture Tuesday and I'm linking up with the rest of the gang...
I've used KK's 'Revolution' and 'Start'
and an old roses border texture from Playing with Brushes...

...for comparison, where I started from.

: : :

In the meantime, I have a great culinary expectation under all this mulch...

...the garlic is up!
Five varieties that have been grown on this island for ages, but for the first time by me.
A gift from one of the old-timers.


Hope you've had a lovely Valentine's Day, my friends...





12/23/2011

Wild peace...

4




The Peace of Wild Things

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief.  I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light.  For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Wendell Berry













To see this series from the beginning, start here...


7/07/2011

Some thoughts on variegation...

18



It's the height of summer around here and we take many walks.  You can't see it from this angle
but my fur gal is watching a river otter swim through the bull kelp.
She'd be down there in a flash if she liked to swim.  Instead, she gets her picture taken
while I sit there saying to myself for the umpteenth time how much I love that soft patch of white...


Here's a plant with some varied patches of its own.
Oh, how I adore this...a sweet little honeysuckle called 'Harlequin.'
I suppose those leaves could be called tricolored?
Anywhoo,
while watering the garden the other evening I had a gander around and realized just how many variegated plants I've added to the mix.  My garden is young - barely two years old - and I've already gone a little
nutso for mottled and streaked foliage.


This is a favorite way to use it...stick it in front of a plain green background.
Here in the Pacific Northwest we have so. much. green.    greengreengreengreenGREEN.
Don't get me wrong...our native rose hedges are beauteous (in bloom there in the back)
and the scent is nothing short of intoxicating,
but after a brief bloom time in June they are, dare I say, nothing short of boring.
And that's why that variegated red twig dogwood came to be in that spot.


This combo is on the shady porch, a velvety coleus co-mingling with a delightful plant
that happens to go by the un-delightful name of spotted dead nettle.

Okay...I'll admit here and now that I'm a total snob about my variegation.
It must meet, shall I say, certain ***criteria*** for me to like it.
I do NOT like all variegation.
In fact, some of it is so downright hideous that I'd like to have a word with the plant breeder
and ask them,
 "WHUT were you thinking?!?"
Here's one I can't stand...belongs in the compost pile, if you ask me...

unlike this sweetie which I can't live without,

a tough and extremely useful creeping thyme called 'Highland Cream.'
I have this one stuffed all around the flagstones...fluffs up the edges, if you know what I mean,
and doesn't bat a blossom from all the dawg paw traffic.
Bred in England, it has a lot more variegated restraint than that aforementioned monstrosity.


Here's my latest acquisition, Caryopteris 'White Surprise,'   Since this photo it's been planted in front of a dark, purple-leaved smokebush called 'Grace.'
Everyone
needs
a
little
drama
in
their
garden.


Of all my variegated plants, this one 
is my most special treasure.
It gets babied more than the dawgs - and that's sayin' somethin.
Can you blame me?  Look at it!
A maple tree whose newest leaves are APRICOT colored and then become (in my opinion) divinely speckled.
But those aren't the real reasons it's so special.  The real reason is not the least bit frivolous.
It was a gift...
from a friend who understands the meaning of giving me such a heartfelt present.


This is not a plant, but it's another form of variegation happening in the garden...



To my dawg pals, Let's Walk!
To my plant friends, Happy Growing!
And to my sewing sistahs, Happy Stitching!



7/01/2010

Over the rainbow...

14


This story should perhaps start with, "Once upon a time, there was a soulbead sister named Grace..."  What is so amazing is that I've never actually met Grace, but somehow we are getting to know each other quite well through our mutual love of all things beady.  This often happens with bead people - we can't seem to help ourselves.  That's a long story in and of itself, but the important thing I want to share with you is that Grace has sent
the most incredible gift!
A collection of beaded cards - story cards really, each with their own theme - full of so much whimsy and delight, I just have to show them to you. Have you ever in your wildest, seen a flying butler?!  What is he doing out there in the garden with the chameleon and the ladybugs?

~ Chameleon eating buzzy bug ~
Czech brown striped beads, lampwork ladybugs, faceted Prenhite beads containing rutilated inclusions

Grace made all these cards all by hand.  They are hand stamped, with beads from her stash carefully stitched in place.  She kindly provided me the description of the various beads since some of them I had never even seen before.  Oh, be still my heart  :>]

~ Hoarding hedgehogs ~
Lampwork beads: turquoise discs & clear beads with cobalt dots, Tibetan bone beads

I should let you know that I have this *thing* for hedgehogs...ever since living in England awhile back where they'd come out at night and cavort on the lawn.  Took quite a strong liking to the little mites.  But I didn't know that Grace knew this!

~ Sealife ~
Stick pearls, seed pearls, African-trade Chevron beads, Japanese seed beads, vintage glass Czech beads

~ Draw your own beads! ~
Japanese seed beads, German molded glass beads (long "petal" beads & turquoise scarab beads)

I can't say I've left the best for last because all of these are so, so splendid, but I just get so darn happy whenever I look at this one:

~ Hedgies in my garden ~
Peruvian hedgies (ceramic?), green turquoise (tubes & pebbles), Howlite melon beads, amethyst beads

There's just no way to have a bad day when you've got hedgies around doing this,


and when you've got wonderful, creative people in the world who shine their light on you by gifting you something so AMAZING. 

But that's not quite the end of the story.  The evening of the day that Grace's gift arrived, the sky put on a beautiful light show.  I took this photo quite late in the evening across the veg garden.  After a rainy afternoon, the sunset turned the sky all pinky-gold...and this appeared,


a double rainbow.  You can just barely see the 2nd one, off to the right.  I couldn't help but think of Grace's gift as my own very special *pot of gold*...