summer things

Amish built oat ricks on Salem Ridge this week look like shaggy beasts that might roam around
when the moon is bright!  I wish we would hear whippoorwill calls again in late summer evenings, especially since I'm not trying to get a small child to sleep.  I hope they are only temporarily away.
Some people who live in Crawford County, to the south, have told me they often hear them, and that they are incessant and obnoxious. 

 I ride past this abandoned farm house and the old shed on my bike some days.  At noon on a bright day, it's so dark inside the shed.  Just this summer, the roof  has caved in. The work in here stopped a long time ago. In the dim light, I see old tractor tires, winches, chains and dusty calendars pinned to the wall, coffee tins of tractor parts, and old cans rusting on plank shelves and window sills.  It feels like a sunken boat.

 The curtain in the farmhouse window moved ever so slightly to the left as I was taking the picture, as if an unseen hand were moving it slightly to see who was outside looking in.  I felt a cold shiver down my neck!  I went around to the back side of the building then,  and found a broken window letting a breeze into the old room,  stirring the curtains!

New weaving in my workshop, which is filled with a whole lot of  summer light in the mornings.  Also, there is my small savu-sauna wash cloth, included in the Deep Roots Exhibit, at the Craft Museum of Finland, until August 23, 2015.  I am so pleased to show these weaves in Finland as part of this Scandinavian-American artists exhibit. My cloths are my tribute to my Finnish grandmother, Impi's life, in Finland, where she lived as a girl and young woman,  before coming to Minnesota in 1917.  I never knew her, because sadly,  she died young, leaving her 4 children, and her husband.