up home

This past weekend we got the chance to visit the farm. It's been a while since we've been up home. We spent the day dying fiber, spinning yarn, baking bread and chatting it up. My mom's busy collecting images and gathering information so that she can create a website for her fiber and yarn.

Here's a preview of some of the beautiful shades of fiber that we can expect next spring at shearing time. This little lady just loves to mug for the camera.

What's on the wheel: I'm thinking about spinning enough of the dyed top for a pair of socks and I want to make a sweater out of the naturally-colored ivory yarn on the far right. Should be a lot of happy summer spinning.

Thanks to my cousin Ashley for the beautiful photos of the farm animals.

it's called stacking the deck

What do you do when you don't have time for the beautiful things in your life? When you don't have time to fuss with them and enjoy them like you usually do? Here's my life strategy at the moment: it's called stacking the deck.




You surround yourself with beautiful things so that when you're stumbling around in that blind daze of "I must do twenty things at once" you can't help but trip over something beautiful.




These somethings are usually tiny and fragile: flowers from the garden, seedlings reaching for the sun, chives plants about to explode in purple blossoms, the last days of color on a neighbor's flowering shrub and wicker baskets over-flowing with fiber.



The seeds that I planted three weeks ago are finally pushing up through the earth in my garden. When I catch a moment I like to go out there and poke around. Soon I'll be able to wander out there in the evenings with a glass of wine, but for now I'm grateful for the evidence of all the hidden abundance in my life and the lovely world around me.

chasing [not counting] sheep

I was up at the farm this weekend and one of the first things I did was walk out to the barnyard to see my mother's new lambs. These rascals were not easy to catch on film. Their mothers were a bit skittish, so that means everyone was skittish. I kept trying to get close to a resting lamb for a good shot and the mama ewe would suddenly bolt and then all the sheep were suddenly blotting around me.

Little flashes of cream, black, caramel, dark brown and calico wool.

I caught the little bugger above on a pile of black dirt. He paused, cocked his head a me, struck a pose and then bolted off to join his comrades in the corner of the barnyard.



Here's a preview of some of the lovely shades of wool we're going to sheering off next spring. We've never had this shade of warm, caramel brown. I'm guessing it will lighten up a bit, but that's all the better.



Up, and ready to run away!



The sweetest speckled ears . . . but I couldn't catch this little lamb to pet them.




So, I went inside and had a glass of wine and some Easter candy.

a very busy weekend

A very busy weekend. I baked, I gardened, I knit. There's a writer on creative process, Julia Cameron, who talks about the idea of filling up our "creative wells". Every individual has an inner supply of creative "life water" that they tap into in order to create more and more. This well has to be refilled on a regular basis in order for us to live healthy and creative lives.

I think I crammed all of these beautiful arts into this weekend because I know I'm going to have a very busy week. I'm finishing up my master's final project in architecture. That means sixteen hour days at school in the studio. (If I'm lucky.)


When I start to get low on creative energy at school I actually tap into this blog and look at some of my past entries to remind myself who I am and what I will be able to get back to when I'm done with this very busy time in my life.


Fresh bread.


And family celebrations.

spring time knitting (too mild for wool?)

The weather here in Minnesota certainly has gardeners scratching their heads and then crossing their fingers, because we can't resist sprinkling seeds and setting bulbs when the weather is so mild and welcoming.

We've experienced a warm trend here for three weeks that has hostas, peonies and crocuses popping up early. My neighbor claims that this is the earliest she's ever seen her hostas emerge. I'm ready for some green, I just hope a late season frost doesn't put a damper on our fun.


I've already set my flower pots out on our front steps: pansies, primroses and lily bulbs.


Happy spring everyone!

sending you seashells

Time away
seashells
warm breezes and sand
sunscreen and daydreams
paintbrushes and pigment
time with my husband
. . . also a little knitting.

no longer a single girl

I put some late hours into making sure these mittens were finished on my wedding day, and I forgot to wear them on the way out of the church. I should find plenty of opportunities to wear them throughout the rest of the winter, though. We're experiencing some arctic weather here in Minnesota.



Even though the landscape can be stark during the winter, the sunrises and sunsets are vibrant flashes of color.



My sister made us a quilt as a wedding present. Her color choices remind me of a vibrant red sunset.



Mittens in process. I really underestimated the time involved in making these, but it also could have been the combination of trying to finish them in tangent with the holidays.