boot camp

Hoorah! I survived my summer intensive intro to graduate studies in Architecture. There were moments when the stress levels were high and I thought for certain I was going to 'crack up' (to put it nicely), but I made it and now I'm back on my parent's farm for a month of frolicking in the garden, chasing chickens and playing tag with the sheep.

We're currently doing some renovations to our century-old farmhouse. My brother, who as some of you know, also studies architecture, has designed an addition to my parent's kitchen and library that includes two roots cellars below grade to store the mountains of potatoes, squash and pumpkins we will be harvesting in the fall. 

There's a reason for two. One will have a dirt floor, the other poured concrete. This will make the conditions in the cellars different, allowing for different produce to be stored there. Also some veggies and fruits (perhaps like some people you know) do not like to be kept in the same room together.  Apples are one example that comes to mind.

This image of the model my brother built shows the upper level of the addition. The boxes on the side are framed windows that hold up a running wall of bookshelves. We're just about ready to knock down the wall dividing the old part of the house from the new. Should be chaos. 

Anyway, this morning I climbed up onto some of the construction debris and posed for this photo in my favorite pair of hand knit socks. I am happy for this break. There are baskets of fiber that need spinning, books that need reading and mountains of produce from the garden that need processing. 

I'll certainly keep you posted. 

barn notes : a new coop

I guess a farmer should probably prepare himself for chaos when he adopts a roost of egg laying hens from a cousin who is happy to give the chickens away for free and also be generous (or just plain thankful) enough to include a hundred egg cartons for all their perspective eggs. 

I posted earlier this spring about my family's love of farm fresh eggs. About a month after that post we picked up our adopted chickens, and, lacking a proper chicken coop, kept them in one of the grain bins for shelter. 

Now, our chickens have a proper home of their own. 

My brother designed a new chicken coop for them off of the side of our barn. This project involved tearing down an old granary, and, using the existing foundation, rebuilding the walls and roof. 

He built a roosting box along the north wall that allows us to gather eggs from the outside and avoid the feathered frenzy within. 

The walls of the coop are constructed out of weathered corrugated metal that has been reclaimed from our great uncle's farm. Most of the wood two-by-fours come from our grandpa's stash. 

I think 80% of the materials used in this project have been reclaimed and reused, which was a goal we had at the offset. 

As you can see, the sides of the coop have become a favorite backdrop of mine for my fiber. I also love the windows and trim, which he accented with a wash of red paint.

More to come about the project I made with this yarn (my finished chicken scratch socks) and the comical events/celebrations that surround this new building on our farm.

what's in your tool kit?

Surprisingly, these days, more than just a hank of yarn and a clutch of mismatched knitting needles. I started knitting because I wanted to hold the color and texture of beautiful yarns in my hands. 

Every time I visited a yarn shop I was attracted to the display cases and arrangement of yarns. The way the skeins hung from wooden knobs in cascades of contrasting or complementing colors. I didn't want to buy just by one hank of yarn (which was all I could afford) I wanted the entire display to be in my home so that I could look at it all the time. 

Later on, as my confidence grew, and I progressed through my knitting repertoire, conquering mittens, hats, sweaters and socks, I found my aptitude grew in other areas as well. 

Unexpected areas. 

A good friend once told me there was no high comparable to the exhilaration a knitter feels after turning the heel of their first sock. She described knitting in design terms. The finished piece was a structure with shape and dimension. 

A sock is a beautiful thing too; designed perfectly for its function and use. Extraordinary! I think, for all of us crazy knitters who knit compulsively, that sometimes the skill of our craft is lost on us because we do it all the time. But socks rock!

Ahem, where was I? My confidence grew in other areas . . . and I wondered what else I might construct and not just out of yarn. So, this summer I'll be starting my masters in Architecture and Sustainable Design. 

Heels might not be walls and windows, but I feel that with a good pair of hand knit socks on my feet I can do anything. 

An image of a pair of socks would be good here, but all I have to share with you are a few photos of some hand spun I finished this morning. Hot off the spinning wheel: our stone gray top. It turned out beautifully. I double plied it and will be making mittens out of it as soon as it dries after setting the twist.