Woolybuns

Oh, Blog, How Do I Miss Thee?

Let me count the ways.

I miss you for your promise of fulfillment

in this so empty time of fear and frustration.

I miss you for the understanding you help me find

when I wander my thoughts and concerns.

 

Ok, Elizabeth Barrett Browning I am not.  But at heart, I am a writer.  And I really need to settle into a blogging routine.  Writing to my mind is like hitting the road to a runner.  When I reach that magical point of engagement, that point where it's working, I get my writer's high.  It's been too long.  I want it.  So here I am, looking for it.  It's gonna take some practice.  I hope you'll bear with me.  (Anybody else get the giggles when people write "bare with me?")

The biggest change in life since last I came here to the blog is, well, big.  Kodi Hagrid, House Bear, goofy good guy, is around 120 pounds now, more than a hundred pounds bigger than when he joined my household last October.  And still growing.  How much bigger will he get?  I dunno.  He's 11 months old now, and in his 1st few months here, he gained about 11 pounds a month.  He "slowed" his growth a couple months ago, to 10 pounds a month.  Over the last 3 weeks, he grew half an inch, and is now 29 inches tall at the shoulder.  He lowers his head to rest it on the table.  He only has to lift his snout a little to grab things off the front of the kitchen counters.  When he stands on his hind feet, he can reach almost anything on those counters, and possibly even the lower shelves of the cabinets.  I know this because he has developed a taste for onions and apples.  I can't keep them on the counters anymore.  Nor paper towels, mail, plastic storage containers - the list is long.  Genetically, House Bear clearly favors the St. Bernard side of his St. Bernard/Golden Retriever parentage.  Saints continue to grow until age 18 to 24 months.  The food bag says to decrease his food starting about now, so presumably, his growth will slow soon. Whatever size he ends up, he will still be a big ol cuddly lap dog.  If I disappear, I'll likely be squashed under him in our chair.  

Bunnies are still here.  This is Hayley Hopdoodle, one of last year's babies. Her coat is not quite what it should be because several months ago, she developed GI stasis, stopped eating, and nearly died.  But I brought her out of it and she's now back up to good weight.  She was just starting to grow in the lovely undercoat but it's too hot to leave her with that much coat.  She got a haircut this morning.  Her next coat should have more of the soft floof than this one does.

Nope, didn't reach that giddy good high, but hopefully, this marks the return to more regular blogging.  Hope you find your high today.

 

Hops N Socks

Tonight I say goodbye to the the last baby bunny of my latest litter to leave, the opal buck on the left in the photo.  He's 3 months old, and has been promised for a while, but cage space and vacation plans left him with me for extra time.   He's been sharing a hutch with his brother all this time and surprisingly, that has gone well.  No beating each other up, no destroying each other's coats.  The 2 of them, so foofy and always looking for petting, have been such a delight to visit every morning.  Yes, of course I have gotten attached to him.  But his brother and 2 sisters are staying with me.  I sheared his coat a couple days ago and he looks so different, especially next to his brother.  His foof is agouti banded and that always looks so pretty.  Once it's spun into yarn, it can end up with the yarn being one color and the foofy "bloom" angora is famous for being another color.  That can change with each coat, as it depends on where the band colors are distributed. Little opal boy wasn't quite thrilled with the hair cut process, but for a 1st time shearing, he did pretty well.  Good boy!

My current spinning project is a blend of merino and silk, which I am blending on my hand cards and turning into rolags.  My little granddaughter has watched me knit socks pretty much her whole life.  She is right: it's time for Grammie to make a pair of socks for her.  She wants them to be yellow, so I will be dyeing the yarn.  This morning she watched me carding the fibers, so she spent time petting the wool top and silk sliver, then I had her help me load the cards, then card the fibers.  She loves the texture.  Not sure she loves the process though.  Time will tell if I am creating a little fiberista or not.  

And Now There Are Two

Several years earlier, I took a silk fusion workshop and discovered milkweed fluff can add a delightful touch to a piece of silk paper. Fast forward a number of years.  I hadn't been able to find a ready source for that lovely fluff, so I tried to raise a milkweed plant on my deck.  It did not go well.  Someone I met via fiber adventures posted about her efforts on behalf of monarch butterflies.  I was intriqued, and no longer just because of the fluff.  It had been easy to not notice dwindling numbers of butterflies.  Bees get most of the attention.  But helping earth recover is pretty damn important.  Saving monarch butterfliess is one part of that.  So when that monarch mama offered me some seeds, I happily accepted, and planted them in seed trays, then when they obligingly sprouted, transplanted them in my back yard.

I admit, I've been lazy with my milkweed project, but they grow in spite of me.  And I've been seeing more monarchs flitting about this year.  Yesterday they rewarded me: I found a little bitty catepillar in those milkweed buds.  Made me kinda giddy.  Catepillar = success.  And also hope.  Each catepillar that survives is one more step for survival of the species.  And that's good for all of us.  I picked a couple leaves and nudged little 'pillar onto one for transport into my house.  And because catepillars are no safer on the loose inside the house with cats and a dog and human feet, I set up a catepillar habitat using a mason jar, pantyhose, and a folded paper towel to make for easier cleaning of the frass (butterfly poop - see: I'm learning the lingo!).  Yes, apparently I don't have enough animal poop to clean up with dog, cats, and bunnies.  hahaha

After feeding bunnies and watering potted plants this morning, I wandered out to the milkweed to fetch fresh leaves.  And looky there: another little bitty catepillar.  

 Yeah, I'm kinda hooked.  

Simple Pleasures

The past several years have been shadowed by my mother's declining health, intermingled with struggles of other family members.  You know, life happening.  I think in retrospect I didn't realize just how much stress by extension that was for me.  I neglected lots of things, simple pleasures like tending my yard.  The property lines out back in particular suffered, invasives planted by birds or wind gobbling up what I planted years ago.  I knew it was happening but just didn't have the oomph to deal with it.  Following Mum's death last fall, I've been processing a lot of that stress, coming to terms with things.  And now, hacking back all those undesireables like this lovely but way too hungry wild rose turns out to be just the ticket.  So far, I've turned 2 of those side by side bullies into a withering pile of I'm done with you, get out of my life.  It's quite satisfying.

 

After yesterday morning's assault on the undesirables, I gathered up spinning wheel, fiber, and left over punch (what Mum used to serve on summer occasions: lemonade, cranberry juice, and ginger ale, except I used selzter instead of soda) and headed out for an afternoon of spinning with friends.  We meet once a month at various locations all about 40 minutes from my home.  Yesterday we gathered at Olympia Farm, home to some lovely Romney sheep, dairy goats, a cow or two, a cat named William, and the folks who manage it all to produce both lovely fibers and delicious foods.  We sat outside under a canopy, looking out over assorted pastures while lambs gamboled, sheep ambled, goats nibbled, and William wandered through our circle. We humans reveled in the perfect weather under bright blue sunny sky, spun yarn and tales, and attempted to solve the world's problems, nibbling on assorted flavors of farm fresh chevre, newly harvested strawberries, and home made lemon bars.  If deliciously tactile fibers weren't enough reason to spin, these social gatherings are.  Added bonus for me: at the end of our get together, I visited the farm's store and picked up fresh eggs and humanely raised and slaughtered beef.  Yummy hamburger on tonight's menu.  

Back home, I headed back outside, putting 2 bunnies in separate pens for grass and dig time, with little bitty mutt Mickey  long leashed for his own wander, sniff, and roll time in the grass.  I attacked the shrubbery again, and found behind both wild rose and a bountiful crop of wild black raspberries the spirea I planted about 15 years ago.  Those raspberries aren't so bountiful anymore.  I will enjoy spirea bloom ever so much more this year.  

Then I heard a bunny thump.  Both sets of ears and eyes focused intently behind me.  I looked.  Oh, hello, baby fox.  Curious little critter not only didn't run off when I turned in it's direction, it cheekily moved in closer.   And was noticebly staring at the rabbits, not me.  Demonstrating the art of discretion, I quickly scooped up the bunnies and put them back in the safety of their hutches.  And since Mickey is even smaller than the bunnies, I put him in the house.  Did the fox leave with all that activity?  No.  It called in reinforcements.   After staring at me for a bit, they started to play.  And then answered the question I only idly wondered about on occasion: why does the dog rope toy abandoned in the back yard move around?  The foxes play with it.  

Simple pleasures are such treasures.

🎵 Oh, The Weather Outside Is Delightful. 🎵

Comfortably cool nights, pleasantly warm sunny days.  These are the days to savor.  And I am.  Puttering around the garden, sometimes planting, sometimes ripping stuff out, sometimes just ambling around enjoying just being, embracing the fresh air, trees, and all manner of green stuff.  Early mornings are the best, so peaceful and melodic with only twittering birds filling the airwaves, and a nice hot cuppa tea to sip.

This morning, after feeding inside critters and doing a few household chores, I headed out to the bunnies with that lovely cuppa tea.  Mama Mocha and Cookie both got time in the exercise pen, while I visited with each bunny, serving up fresh water and food with a healthy side of petting.   Then I took a bunny for a walk.  What?  Walks aren't just for dogs.  

Cream Puff is a 2 year old REW doe, sister to Mocha.  Puff right from the nest box has always been kind of an introvert, hangs back, runs from petting.  I've tried putting her in the pen for fun time because bunnies really enjoy time on the ground to be rabbits.  But Puff sits there.  She analyzes the pen, probably doing geometry in her head.  Then - BOOP - she jumps out.  She's quite good at it.  Fortunately, I am wise to her way and grab her before she makes her great escape which will just serve her up to the fox.  So I've tried giving her run time in the house .   She just looks for the best hidey hole.   But she accepts the harness.  Puff still questions the limitations of leash length, but she gets to hippity hop around the yard.  I can practically see feel good chemicals bathing her brain as she almost smiles,  just enjoying being, embracing the fresh air, trees, and all manner of green stuff. 

Bunnies! No Better Topic To Get Me Back On The Blog

Is there anything cuter than baby angora  bunnies?  Sure, lots of things are as cute, but cuter?  I think not.  I've missed having some but sometimes the welfare of the babies means not breeding any.  But a few folks who have previously purchased bunnies from me had been asking when would there be more available.  So bitty baby bunnies here at Woolybuns.

They were born on May 7, 8 healthy babies beautifully tucked into a perfect nest in the box.  Mama is Mocha, a chocolate agouti crossbred doe of very sweet temperament, her 1st litter.  1st litters can go very wrong, so what a delight that Mocha did such a good job.  

 

One baby missed the 1st two feedings, which is often a death sentence as they only eat once or twice a day, and missing a meal means a drop in glucose levels.  Competition at the spigots can be tough when you have 7 stronger siblings.  Hand feeding a tiny baby is difficult, but I wanted to give the little runt a chance. I wrapped the baby burrito like in a paper towel and put a small spoonful of molasses thinned with warm water up to the baby's face.  I expected to have to carefully pour a little into the baby but darned if this baby didn't just lap it up right out of the spoon.  Very hungry with a strong will to live.  I put little molasses face back in with the others and the molasses worked wonders.  Little baby did not miss a meal after that and soon was no longer a little runt.  That baby turned out to be the little white one up above, not the biggest but always the first to experience the next new thing: 1st to open eyes, 1st to start tasting hay, 1st in the food bowl, and always first at the hutch door to greet me and demand head scritches.  Hard to resist.  So I'm not.  She is staying here and her name is Pippi Hopstocking because she is such a happy little adventurer.  She has dark eyes, not red so she is not albino (REW).  Her grandmother Baileyis a chocolate ermine, so I expect Pippi is also ermine, either chocolate or lilac.   The other big adventurer in this litter is a lilac buck.  What a little hoot he is. No matter how much he catches my heart, though, he is promised to someone.  

Dad to these babies is Hoppy Hooligan, a lynx buck, a cheerful, easy going fella.  I had hoped this pairing between Mocha and Hooli would produce chocolate chinchilla and in theory, these two should be able to.  Mocha's genotype is apparently AabbCc(chd)DdEe.  Hooli is AabbCcddEe.  The genetic dice didn't roll that way and I don't intend to pair these two again. At some point, I will be on the lookout for a buck to pair with Pippi to getthat elusive chocolate chinchilla.    In the meantime, I'm enjoying the heck out of each of these babies for as long as they are here.

 

 

 

 

Social Media Spinning

Tour de Fleece is a delightful spinning adventure via social media.  We join teams, set goals, spin, drool over each others fibers, share progress, flops, jokes, and generally cheer and console each other.  Stangers become friends, prizes travel around the world, and a lot of pretty yarn results.  The team I joined specifies we must spin at least 15 minutes a day.  Or not.  It's a very relaxed team.  This year's TdF start coincided with my having 4 days in a row free to put in extra spinning time, so I have made excellent progress.  That plus one of my goals is to finish some yarns in progress.  That means I started with a bobbin of singles already spun for each of 3 different fibers, so it seems like I did a lot more spinning in the first three days than I actually did.  

First up, because I drove to Maine on day 1 of  TdF so needed a travel wheel, was a 50/50 blend of cormo and angora on Rose.  I dyed this delicious stuff years ago, and sent it to Still River Mill for processing into roving.  I had about 5 pounds of the stuff, and kept finding another bag, so I've spun it off and on ever since.  It is a delightful spin, so easy it practically spins itself.  This may be the last of it, though.  That would make me sad if I didn't already have more washed cormo to go with the ever arriving supply of angora.  I also still have some unwashed cormo.  I already had a full bobbin of singles when TdF started, so only had to fill one more bobbin.  I did that on days one and 2.  Day 3 I plied.  When I filled the 1st bobbin with 2 ply yarn, I still had singles left on the 2 bobbins, so I wound off the plied yarn, and started plying the rest of the singles.  When I finished off the 1st singles bobbin, the 2nd bobbin still had a good amount of singles on it.  I decided to wind  that into an Andean bracelet.  Then I spit  joined the ends to the yarn on the bobbin and continued plying.  I ended up with one skein of about 330 yards worsted weight, and a second skein of about 150 yards.  My boy Hoppy Hooligan inspected the skeins and they apparently passsed muster.  

 

My second project for TdF is also a YIP (yarn in progress).  The fiber is 19 micron merino that I dyed a tonal salmon about a year ago for a felt project.  I deliberately dyed extra just because I could.  And because I hoped to do more felting and having lots of dyed wool is handy for that.  But 19 micron merino is a delicious feel for spinning.  And I haven't done any felting in a long time (that needs to change).  When I got my accelerator wheel, I decided to use this fiber as my get acquainted with the wheel fiber.  The first bobbin full, spun prior to the start of TdF, came from a section of the fiber that is lighter in color.  I plan to ply it with the darker.  

 

I already picked out my 3rd project.  It's also a YIP, on my CPW, Gussie.  I have to figure out if I want to try to cram the rest of the fiber braid on Gussie's one bobbin or spin another single on a different wheel.  Ideally, I will get myself to the hardware store, get a metal rod and bend it into a replacement footman for my other CPW, Jeannine, then I can spin the other single on her one bobbin.  But we shall see, and that's when I'll put up photos of the fiber.   

A Good Morning

 

As I sat in the back yard this morning, under the canopy of a large tree with a nice hot cuppa tea, Humprey bounced about in glee, grabbing a nibble here, indulging in digging there.  Then he paused to stare at me.  Is that the look of invitation, a come join me?  Or is he, like me, wondering what thoughts lurk in the mind of the other?  No way to know, so we just take a moment together.  Then he went back to his bouncing, nibbling, and digging.  I continued to soak in early morning quiet, just the birds whispering while they flit about.  

That's a time I let thoughts wander at will.  Today they wandered through a variety of fiber techniques - spinning, felting, knitting - and those thoughts formed a photo in my head, a future FO, if you will. The photo is kind of like an ear worm in that it's staying with me, nudging, poking, insisting I pay attention, nuture the inspiration and bring it to birth.  I had to go shoe shopping anyway, so along the way, I picked up a couple things to play with. I look forward to finding out where this wandering goes.  

When Something Falls Into Your Lap

You grab it, right?  That's what happened years ago at spinning guild.  We had a Round Robin where people brought in lots of wheels, we sat in a big circle, spun for maybe 10 minutes, then everyone shifted to the wheel on our right, rinse repeat.  Wheel mechanics are ... well... not really in my talent arena.  Things on my own wheel kept falling off, and trying other people's wheels was kind of an intimidating idea.  But I did join in.  It was not going particularly well.  Then I sat down at a beautifully refurbished Canadian Production Wheel.  OMG.  We bonded.  Instantly.  The wheel's owner watched from the other side of the group, then came over and said "I see magic happening."   Then she told me the wheel was for sale.  My birthday was only a few days away.  The then husband had just gotten a bonus.  I called him.  Bring it home, he said.  I don't think I've ever written a check out as fast as that one.  Loved that wheel.  But at the time, I had kids and dogs and stuff, and 10 spinning wheels.  I started tripping over wheels, and my lovely CPW took a little hit.  I couldn't bear the thought of breaking that wheel, so for her protection, I sold her.  I've missed her ever since. 

So right around my birthday this year, I commented on someone's photo of a beautiful CPW for sale, lamenting that it was too far away for me to go see it.  I hadn't been actively looking for a CPW, just keeping an eye on what came up and where.  You know, just in case.  Someone else sent me a private message, saying she had a couple CPWs for sale if I was looking for one.  Yup, Pandora's box.  We met up at Connecticut Sheep and Wool festival, I tried her out, I bought her.  

Definitely not the end of the story.

After I carried her to the spinning tent, Miss CPW, whose name is Augustina - Gussie for short, felt a bit of an itch and started throwing her drive band in protest.  Lots of people said hmmm and offered suggestions.  All agreed it would be an easy fix, mostly likely just a shim or a slight tap to adjust things with a little hammer.  I took Gussie home.  

Then someone else invited me to a big spinners gathering where we could each try out the big assortment of antique wheels she had.  And also she could help me make Gussie comfortable so she'd stop throwing that drive band.  Location was almost half way to me Mum's house and I wanted to go visit, and other things lined up to support my trip.  I went.  18 antique wheels of quite varied styles.  Wow!  I tried some out.  Yeah, lots of grins happened.  Everytime we started to check out Gussie's discomfort, my hostess got called to someone else.  As I waited, I fiddled with tension just a bit.  Voila!  Gussie sang.  I spun and you know that feeling you get during a massage and all stess melts away?  Yeah.  

Then I wandered among some more wheels and spotted yet another Wheel of Distinction.    

Whoa!  What a beauty.  I'd never seen one like it.  I tried him out.  Oh, mama!  That was delicious.  I asked my hostess about the wheel.  He's a Carson Cooper accelerated wheel.  And oh, btw, after a couple more adjustments, the wheel will be listed for sale.  

OH!  

Then it was time to leave, and I drove to Maine to visit me Mum.  Mum used to spin and raise sheep and dye yarn.  She wanted to see Gussie.  As I was carrying Gussie from the parking lot to Mum's apartment in a senior housing complex, another resident stopped me and said she had a wheel that looked pretty much just like Gussie.  It had been her great grandmother's.  But now that wheel languished unused and in need of love and the family just wanted it to have a good home.  She just didn't know anybody who wanted it.  Ummmm... gee...  The lady said she'd talk to her family and get back to Mum about the wheel. 

 
Mum also wanted to see me spin but the only fiber I had with me was angora.  My sister is highly allergic to it.  Only thing to do is find someone local who had fiber for sale.  A quick google and I found Maine Fiber Workshop.  I called and explained and she graciously invited me to her home to shop. She had some lovely BFL in several colorways. I couldn't decide between the teal or port wine, so I bought one of each, and started a bobbin of port wine.

 

Soon after I got back home, the hostess with the Carson Cooper wheel listed it for sale and earburned me, price was right, I shouldn't have but I did.  He has 6 bobbins, an orifice hook, and 3 more whorls.  Ratios range all the way up to "who needs to spin that fast??"  He is an amazing wheel and looks perfect in my house.  But he hasn't yet told me his name.  My 1st spin on him is some 19 micron merino that I dyed.  

 

And then eventually I got the call from Mum saying the woman with the wheel wants to just give it to me.  Back to Maine I went, not knowing anything about the wheel other than it's been in that family probably since it was first crafted.  Would it be intact?  Would it work?  Would the flyer be ok?  Or would it be worth what I would pay for it - nuthin'?  

Well, here she is, Jeannine, named for the woman who gifted her to me.  She's mising 2 spokes, the footman is broken, her wheel has a chip in it, and there is one spot on the wheel that is slightly separated.  But the flyer is good and the wheel spins straight and the rest of her is in great shape.  She needs cleaning and a good moisturizer.  

Amazing what one kind of offhand comment to someone's post led to.

Best Proud Parent Bumper Sticker Evah

Drove home from Maine today (that's another post, hopefully soon) and spotted a bumper sticker that made me snort out loud laugh.  

Proud parent of a great kid who is sometimes an asshole.  And that's ok.    

I admire that parent, and I hope the kid knows just how lucky she/he is.  To me, that sentiment says the parent is proud of the kid, not for the kid's accomplishments making the parent look good, but just proud of the kid for his/her basic core character.  I live in a town where kids are (or at least were when mine were school age - I keep my distance now) pushed to achieve so parents and town look good.  Tying a kid's value to how much they achieve is a lousy thing to do to kids.  Conversely, dimishing a kid's worth based on the stupid stuff she/he might do - and they all do! - tends to perpetuate issues.  

My kids aren't perfect and I wasn't a perfect parent either.  We certainly went through some stuff during their teen years in particular.  But no matter what they threw at me, my love for each of them did not waver.   One guiding principle I held onto: when kids are at their worst, that's when they need Mom the most.  Not to excuse unacceptable behavior or believe whatever wild story they tell or any other such "not my kid" stuff, but to help them find a more productive way.  Unconditional love.  It's a powerful thing.

Funny thing is soon after I saw that bumper sticker, I got a text about "my" sweet granddaughter, because of course when a kid does something to prove that "sometimes" part of the quote, that kid does not belong to the parent detailing the event.  Seems she caused a "fun" septic system adventure, and of course while they had weekend guests.  What did she do?  Dumped toys down a pipe causing a back up of used tp.  When her mama asked her what toys she put down there, the little darling grinned and said "lots of em."  

One of the perks of grandparenting: getting to laugh while your offspring deal with their own progeny.