Elin's on Monday

 

 

 

 

 

Elin lives here now, and she asked us to lunch. Her wool rugs are made with sheep fleece she dyed and had spun around a jute cord at a local woolen mill.  The weaves are point twill, and the rugs she is making are thick, with nuanced color,  and they are beautiful.

There was wine to drink, too. Olga showed us some weaves from Africa collected by her son.  We think they are made of fine strips of bark.  After lunch, Elin took us into her her small dye works.  

Hen of the Woods

All weaving came to a standstill.  My husband brought home many bags of clusters of Hen of the Woods, or, Maitakes, that he collected  in the woods.  The mushroom clusters grow at the base of oak trees in the fall. (Similar mushrooms growing on different tree species should be avoided).  They  are very flavorful, and taste like tender meat on chicken wings. They have a firm texture, a little chewy.

They pull apart easily before they are cooked.  I've been sauteeing them , or roasting with olive oil,  garlic and rosemary, salt and pepper.

Often the mushrooms are huge, and may weigh up to 40 pounds.  Enough to last the whole winter, until the morels come up in the spring.  They freeze well, so I've been putting them away, and sampling, sampling, sampling.

Sweets

Scarf No. 3 on this mostly silk Rosepath warp.  I'm really warming up to the seductive warm colors, with a little aqua for the sugar-on-top.  Figuring out color is always my first interest, and I usually try to make it more difficult, because the results are often more interesting, at least to my eye.  But even with a simple color scheme,  nothing is automatic about color and design.  There's always the chance of good color going bad.   Seeing the rags I used to start this scarf makes me feel itchy to do a little more rag weaving.

There was a torrential downpour on Friday the 13th, another flood in Avalanche.  It was a little scary. Soon after the waters subsided,  a sister, nephew, and son and brother in-law, came to visit.    Our table has been full of people talking,  eating good food, and laughing about I don't remember what,  but was very funny at the time.   The good feeling is what lingers.

wall marks

On birthdays, or when we finally remembered to do it after your birthday, we marked the height of the birthday person on the dining room wall, balancing a graham cracker or macaroni box on top of its head, steadied against the wall for the true measure.

We kept the record, noting shoes on or off, wondering when Ursula would overtake Mom. (Just for the record, she didn't). Then there were friends and family who we invited to add their height to our wall, after we'd shared a good dinner. It didn't need to be their birthday, just the occasion of our good time together.

Everyone laughed and acted as if it were a big thing, stood straight and tall, but it wasn't such a big thing. Just a pencil mark (or magic marker!) on our dining room wall, proof that you were here with us, on what date, and how tall.