a special vest

I thought I'd do something a little different for the yarn along theme this week by sharing a piece made by my late mother. Recently when I was back "home" at my dad's house, I came upon some wonderful knitted treasures. My mom was an avid spinner and knitter, and a skilled keeper of sheep. Over the years she bred her flock to bring out the softest wool and a whole palette of natural colors.

This vest is one I don't remember seeing my mom wear, and it has been tucked away in a drawer for years. But isn't it beautiful? The yarn is hand-spun from one of the brown sheep. I love all the texture in the different patterns. The edging on the collar was a little funny when I found it, but after a gentle washing, it settled down nicely. 

 

Now that the weather is getting chilly, I've been reaching for this vest and finding so much warmth and comfort as I put it on. It fits just right, and knowing that my mom's hands cared for the sheep from which this wool was sheered, spun that wool, and knit each stitch gives me a deep sense of connection with her. Many years ago, toward the end of my mother's life, she expressed the desire to leave a legacy. What better way to do that than through these beautiful handcrafted clothes, and the values of self-sufficiency, industry and patience they represent?

For more yarn-along inspiration, visit Small Things.

catching up

 It's been a little while since I've posted here. The funny thing about blogging is that it can become a bit of a compulsion. When I first started this blog, I found it to be a wonderful exercise in taking time to see the world around me, and to share those visions with friends. But lately I realized I was getting caught in the trap of wanting to photograph and document everything, rather than appreciating the beauty fully in the present moment. So I took a break from documenting, and it has been refreshing. I do still love this crazy medium of self-expression called the blog, though. And it has been such a fun way to connect with lovely people across the world, so I couldn't stay away for too long. Here are a few of the happenings 'round here since I've been away...

 We harvested our winter squash, and what a satisfying job it was! Our very first success with this wonderful crop. This was our giant butternut that I felt sure was at least 10 lbs (weighed in at a mere 5 lbs--guess I'm not that great at estimating weight!). I think I will turn it into a soup tonight. Any favorite butternut soup recipes out there?

 I've been branching out with the backyard tea herbs--mint, lavender, coriander, and calendula all make lovely additions.

 Finally blocked my Shalom sweater that I finished this spring when it was too warm to wear it. Hopefully more pictures coming soon!

 Trying my hand at creating kimchi for the first time. Leah over at the Adventure Learning Company has a wonderful tutorial here.  I used the daikon radishes we planted in late summer, and garlic from the garden, along with cabbage, onion, and carrots from the farmer's market (and ginger from very far away). I have my fingers crossed that I gave those lactobacilli the proper environment to thrive--we'll see in a few days.

And I'm very excited about finally tackling the task of making lotion. I have been slowly working away at finding natural, low-cost alternatives to artificial chemical-laden body-care products, and I think this one is a success. I took inspiration from Rosemary Gladstar's Herbal Recipes for Vibrant Health and from Amanda Soule's new book The Rhythm of Family, tweaked the recipe to use what I had on hand, and was amazed when it actually worked! The best part is that all the ingredients are basically edible--water, cocoa butter, beeswax, olive oil, vitamin E, a few drops of essential oil, and a few herbs from the garden. So satisfying!

Wishing you all a lovely autumn!

pizza four hands

We make pizza around here quite often--it's a great way to use up whatever veggies are in season. And if you have a little time and a lot of patience, it's also a great way to incorporate the eager hands of little ones into the art and work of the kitchen.  There was a time when making a pizza felt intimidating to me, so I thought I'd share how we do it in hopes of inspiring another hopeful but hesitant family to give it a try.

We start out by making the dough--a much loved project of the resident two year old. So squishy and messy and it smells good, too! Our current recipe of choice is the calzone crust in Molly Katzen's Moosewood Cookbook. Very simple, quick, and tasty. You could also buy a pre-made crust if you're short on time. (We often make a double batch and freeze half after rising--makes for a very quick second meal.)

After the dough has risen for an hour, we oil a pan and roll or stretch the dough to fit. We have a round pan now, but used to use a jelly-roll style pan--it doesn't really matter. Then we spread on a bit of sauce, which can be store-bought or home made. This week the pizza sauce I had planned to use had been sitting in the fridge a little too long and was topped with a good inch of mold. The only other tomato sauce in the house was still in this form:

We weren't feeling quite ambitious enough to turn these beauties into sauce before dinner, so instead we used left over fresh salsa I made the day before. It turned out just fine. And this goes to show how creative you can be with a pizza. It is a very forgiving medium. You could also use pesto or just a little olive oil.

Now for the real creativity--toppings! Our absolute favorite right now is the pizza pepper we grew for the first time this year (seed was from Territorial). They're a little bigger than a jalapeno and don't have the fire. Nice and thick walled, and just the right size for slicing.

For this pizza, we also added some chopped chard (stems and all) and black olives (from a can). The salsa had garlic and green onions from the garden. This is a good time to add fresh or dried herbs, especially basil or oregano.

 Now you're ready to top the pizza with a little cheese (we use mozzarella and Parmesan most often, but again, you can use anything you like and have on hand), pop it in a 400 degree F oven, bake for about 20 minutes till golden and bubbly, and...

You're ready to eat! I have to be honest and say that although my toddler thoroughly enjoyed making this pizza, she wouldn't eat it (more for mom and dad!). If you have picky eaters, it may help to let them decide what toppings they want on their portion--but again--this is the beauty of making it together! From the kneading of the dough, to the varied colors and shapes of the toppings, to the bits of shredded cheese snatched while mom isn't looking, the making of a pizza offers so many teachable moments and opportunities to connect with my little one. It really is worth the effort.

Sister-Mountain

"Mountains are giant, restful, absorbent. You can heave your spirit into a mountain and the mountain will keep it, folded, and not throw it back like some creeks will. The creeks are the world with all its stimulus and beauty, but the mountains are home."
~Annie Dillard, from A Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Last weekend we took a quick let's-make-the-most-of-the-last-days-of-summer trip to Bend, OR, my beloved home town. I've been pining for a chance at my favorite hike to Green Lakes in the Three Sisters Wilderness for the last three years (since pregnancy and babe limited mountain excursions a bit). This weekend, we finally got the chance and the gods smiled upon us. Perfect weather, good health, agreeable toddler, and only a little trouble finding a parking place at the trailhead. Our day couldn't have been more perfect.

I'm so happy to have a Heidi-style photo of my little one up here on top of the world in one of my very favorite places. She was such a champ on this 9 mile hike. Rode in the backpack most of the way, but didn't complain a bit, which is very unusual. Maybe she has her mama's affinity for sub-alpine scenery.

There were even a few wildflowers left.  I think this was the first time I saw Indian Paintbrush all year. 

This is South Sister, the aptly named southern-most peak of the Three Sisters in the Central Oregon Cascade Range. I grew up with these mountains always on the skyline to the west of town, like strong and benevolent aunties watching over my coming and going.

After we were home, I asked my daughter if she remembered the name of the mountain we hiked to. She replied, "Sister-Mountain." I liked that name very much and I think it might stick. My love for these mountains and this place has become deep and grounding, like that for an older sister.

There were several little stream crossings. My daughter is very interested in the concept of bravery lately, and this crossing earned the declaration, "Daddy was BRAVE!"

The trail follows Fall Creek, which cuts through the pine and fir forest,

tumbles over several waterfalls,

 and is flanked by a stunning volcanic rock flow up toward the end of the trail. Lots of shiny black obsidian catching the sun. The water is so clear and ice-cold--it truly deserves the designation pristine.

I don't have a large family, and my parents moved a thousand miles away from our extended family when I was a babe. I've struggled at times in my life to gain a sense of belonging, and loneliness has been a common companion. But I've been blessed to have had the chance to develop strong bonds to place, and particularly this place. To my Sister-Mountain. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to have experienced the deep sense of connection that comes from solitary time in the wilderness. One of my greatest hopes for my daughter is that she will find her own special places, hike her own paths through the wilderness, and develop bonds with her own sister-mountain.

yarn along: progress

For anyone looking for my Sept 28 yarn along post, please go here. I accidentally linked to this previous post on Ginny's site. Sorry for the inconvenience! 

Oh how I love knitting in the round! So quick and easy and portable. This sweater (Jane Richmond's Classic Raglan Pullover) has been a pure joy to knit. The yarn is deliciously soft and the deep plum color so rich and satisfying. A perfect complement to the oranges and golds of the season--our first winter squash harvested from the garden, the orange hue the sunlight has taken on, the marigolds and black-eyed susans still in bloom.

While perusing the library shelves this week, I came across All Creatures Great and Small by James Herriot. I remember my mom (a true lover of animals) reading this book when I was a kid. I tried it myself but wasn't quite ready. This time around, though, I'm having trouble putting it down. So well written, funny, insightful. The characters (both human and animal) are delightful. And I think I'm feeling a bit of kinship with veterinarians since our bout of hen sickness last week.

For more knitting and reading inspiration, head over to Ginny's Yarn Along at Small Things.

simple gifts: lavender bliss

I've been finding myself singing the old Shaker song "Simple Gifts" a lot lately. Such a pleasing melody, and the words convey a truth of which I need constant reminding. My daughter loves it too. "Again, again", she says, as I come to the last line.

Recently the two of us were preparing our dried lavender to store away for use in herbal recipes in the coming year.

My husband was happily occupied in his woodshop, and my daughter and I brought the drying racks full of hanging lavender down to the kitchen. We had the radio tuned to our wonderful classical station (KBPS), and discovered a lovely early music show called Harmonia. Beautiful melodies filled the room as we began to remove the lavender buds from the stems. Soon, the lavender's soothing aroma wafted into our noses and the essential oils worked their way into our fingers. Such a treat for the senses!

We made a big mess, but really, when the mess is made of fragrant lavender flowers, can it be called a mess? It was certainly a pleasure to clean up. 

The fifteen minutes we spent engaged in this activity felt so serene and joyful. It seemed that all was right in our little world and everything was just as it should be--like the line from Simple Gifts:

 And when we find ourselves in the place just right, 

   'Twill be in the valley of love and delight.

In these moments of serenity,  I can feel the frayed edges of my being come back together, the tight knots in my muscles loosen, the space in my heart grow wider and more hospitable.  These moments seem so rare (serene and toddler are not often found in the same room, at least in our house!) that I want to take note and remember them with gratitude. They truly are gifts. 

weekend reflections--chicken challenges and lavender lemonade

This was a rough week for Dolly, our Cuckoo Maran hen. I came home from work last Friday to find our Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens open on the kitchen table, and my husband decked in latex gloves, tending to this poor girl.

She had a prolapsed oviduct, and her hen companions had started to peck at her. (For those of you curious about this condition, plenty of information is available online...but for the weak-stomached, I will spare the details here). After some first aid and clean up, we put her in a makeshift hen hospital (our old brooder where the chicks spent the first weeks of their life) in the basement for some convalescence.

We kept her there for a week with food and water, and a few breaks to run outside for fresh air and greens. This weekend, we re-introduced her to the rest of the flock in the main coop. So far she seems to be holding her own...she certainly isn't withering away. But I don't think she's completely out of the woods. We are breathing a sigh of relief, though, and hoping she is through the worst of it.

  

Storey's Guide has a lot of good advice, and I wish I had read this particular sentence prior to our experience with Dolly: "Before any problems occur and while you are unemotional, determine in advance exactly how much time and money you are willing to spend nursing sick chickens." (p. 170)

Keeping chickens in the city is a tricky endeavor. When happy hens are clucking about the yard eating slugs and laying eggs, it seems quite idyllic. But when a chicken gets sick, more challenging issues arise. If we lived on a farm and were raising hens on a large scale, we probably would have culled Dolly by now. But it seems more difficult to make this decision in the city (the mere logistics of killing a chicken in the city are a bit daunting). We try not to think of our hens as pets, yet we value their lives as we value the lives of all creatures, and don't want to end them needlessly. We aren't able or willing to spend large amounts of money on vet bills for these animals, but we want to give them a chance to recover if they do become ill or injured. After talking to vets and researching, mulling and worrying this last week, I still haven't determined our plan for sick chickens exactly. But my understanding of the ethics and practicalities of raising animals for food in the city has certainly deepened. We will watch Dolly and do our best to provide our hens with a healthy environment, and tackle each new challenge as it comes.

After all that, it sure was good to sit down with a refreshing glass of Heather's lavender lemonade. I thought I had missed my chance to make it this summer when the nights got so cold that I found myself pulling out the wool blankets. But then the lavender flowered again, and the sun's warmth returned, and I couldn't resist the opportunity.

 This beverage is amazing...like drinking lavender. The whole house smelled of the stuff as the lavender steeped in the syrup. Heavenly! Heather writes about how lavender lemonade will make you feel like a lady, which is very true (even when you're wearing grubby gardening clothes, and not a calico dress). But my husband will attest that it can be equally enjoyed by a Carhartt-clad man working in his wood shop.  

I believe he called it the best lemonade he's ever tasted. Do give it a try yourself!