anything goes

Certain knitting projects sometimes seem to advance so slowly that one has the perception that the project is unraveling backward - instead of being knit forward. Ever had one of those days where it seems like all of your progress is in the negative, instead of the positive?

We all have I'm sure . . .

Ahem, but the knitting proves we have moved forward, even if it is a slow and tedious advance of but a few steps or stitches. Anything goes around here these days. Backwards, sideways, crooked and wobbly, sometimes - miraculously - forward.

We've had a few guests, been reading a few books and have been visiting other people's gardens. I always look at other people's gardens and think "oh, you did it that way, and look how well it works" or "you've just left the weeds and look how beautiful it is."

Growth is a good thing - in any direction!

finishing touches

It feels good to cast off and a apply finishing touches to this project. It looks complicated (well, to me it does) but it was a very easy, fast knit. Maybe it was the yarn. My mom and sister are responsible for this colorway and with every stitch I'd see a new combination of green and gold which would call to mind different aspects of the world around me. 

share

Last night we discovered that we've been sharing our backyard with a family of cardinals. Their nest is in the young maple tree that we planted two years ago. There's a mama, a papa and three young cardinals darting from tree to tree chirping at each other.

I know that I've caught sight of the male cardinal flying across the yard, but I never imaged that they'd be setting up house so close to our own. It's nice to know we have such beautiful neighbors. They like us, but they definitely don't like the cat. Whenever we let Chewy out into the backyard they hurl angry chirps down at her, all the while Chewy merely saunters about, choosing to ignore the angry riot above.

Deviled eggs. I've been craving them lately. My recipe calls for fresh dill, green onions, herbed goat cheese and mayo. Fresh and creamy. A perfect summer snack.

I'm still cultivating my papaya coneflowers as you can see. For some reason the blossoms I bring into the house turn yellow in the center and the ones I leave out in the garden deepen into a dark red. Maybe the cooler air in the house has an effect on the color that develops.  Hmmmm, I will continue observations.

Another weekend, everyone. Enjoy!

berry days

The sharing of squash has begun, so I consider this week the start of the dog days of summer. Soon the beans will be curling on the vine and the tomatoes will shift from green to orange to fire engine red. We've been hot here, I'll hazard to guess that it's hot where you are too. Dog days.

All of my summer dresses have been getting a work out this week, and it still feels good to have the sun heat up my shoulders, so I'm not complaining yet. I can still remember the long winter we just lived through. If the heat holds and the garden starts to wilt, then I may complain a bit, but not much.

It happens every year.

We've been grilling and berry picking and I've been knitting. The lace is getting longer on my shawl. I can't wait to block it and see how the pattern reads.

Stay cool everyone.

metamorphosis

Metamorphosis. The power of change. I know I've commented before about how my garden teaches me about transformation and change. The images above of the coneflower were taken over the course of a day and a half. The blossom literally transformed itself.

An observer, inexperienced in the ways of a papaya coneflower, would have never been able to guess that what was present sixteen hours before the gorgeous orange blossom above could ever become such a graceful, vibrant organism. I'm always surprised. Every year, I'm just happy when I see the orange petals array themselves, but then they start to swoop back and the flower becomes a graceful orange dancer - and I'm their biggest fan.

My coneflower is loaded with blossoms this year, so I'll get to see this again and again.

Speaking of change, as usual I changed my mind about what to use my "golden fields" yarn for. As you can see, it's not on the loom. It's on the needles. This lace shawl is call The Lonely Tree shawl. It's a fast knit and the finishing touches make it interesting and unique. Thank you Softsweater! 

I felt like this colorway needed to be worked into something with a botanical theme, given its rich earth toned hues.
 
Happy weekend, everyone.

hay bales

Many years have passed since those summer days
Among the fields of barley
See the children run as the sun goes down
Among the fields of gold

Sting

I love it in the summer time when the fields are filled with big bales and the air smells like cut grass.  I'm going to start another weaving project with the yarn above. I can wrap it around my neck in the winter and remember these golden fields.

high summer

High summer on the farm. We made mad dashes outside to gather eggs and search out rhubarb, while trying to avoid the swarms of gnats and mosquitoes that have hatched out over the course of the rainy spring months. Strawberry picking happened in the wee hours of the morning, before the bugs and high heat.

We baked, we ate, we did dishes and then we did it all over again.

The sheep completely ignored us.

Their business is the grass this time of year. I can't say I blame them. Their concentration and complete fixation on the tender edibles in front of their noses - despite the human with her camera waving her arms in front of them - was amazing.  These are the same sheep that bolted at the sound of a bird flapping her wings last time I was home, but this month they couldn't be swayed from the task at hand by a marching band.

You gotta love the complexity of a sheep. I do.