The leather drive band for the old treadle sewing machine arrived today and since it is gray and drizzly out, I fought with cutting it shorter and putting in the staple that holds it in place. I think it is still a bit too long, but it was adequate to tackle the last three masks for hubby. Because the belt was a little loose, it caused more work on my part, but there are three completed masks.
I would love to know the age of this machine. The machine is a Minnesota brand from Sears, Roebuck Co. The wooden cabinet has the Sears tag in it. I have tried in the past to figure the age based on the Model number. I can identify that is was manufactured by the Davis Company in Dayton, Ohio in the early 1900’s, as a catalog sale for about $18, but that is as close as I have been able to get. It works beautifully when the band is tight enough and it is clean and oiled. There is a box of attachments in the cabinet drawer, but as the needle hole is a single hole, I don’t know that it can do much more than straight sew.
Somewhere along the way during one of the moves from the house we sold to a rental, to storage, to here, the square knob on the right hand drawer was lost. The veneer on the top isn’t is perfect shape, but the machine works. So it is at least 100 years older than my electric singer that is broken for the 4th time though it gets only light use.
I think I will just keep using my foot power when I need to sew. When not in use, it is a downstairs hall table with a sculpture done by DIL 1 and a small wicker sewing basket that belonged to great grandmother atop.
and my obsessive compulsive side partially won. As I pulled the rough, quick, down and dirty basket down off of the refrigerator to take out a couple potatoes tonight, I decided I couldn’t live with it that way. Not having a finishing rim on it and the ovalish shape, bothered me. I had plenty of the thicker reed that is flat on one side and curved on the other, and I didn’t like the tall handle that was disproportionate to the diameter of the basket. While waiting for the oven to heat, I soaked a piece of the thick reed and a couple strands of chair caning reed, cut the handle off level with the top of the basket, bent the heavier reed around the basket and anchored it on with the caning reed.
Still far from perfect, but I’m happier with it, it is more round, more rigid, refilled with potatoes and covered back with the tea towel on the top of the refrigerator.
Only two hens are laying, two Olive eggers, so all eggs are green and have good hard shells. With the extended free range time, the yolks are dark orange, firm and round, but because they are feasting on grass seed and insects all day, they don’t want to go to the safety of the run before we let the dogs out to run.
Another basket of peppers were picked and strung yesterday. There are at least 100 ground cherries, but they are all too small to pick and it is going down to 31f Friday night, so I guess this isn’t the year that I get to try them. I will plant early next year. The pepper plants will be pulled Friday afternoon and hung upside down in the garage so the remaining peppers will ripen. The peas will be covered with plastic in hope for some fresh peas as the daytimes will still be mild.
The bees were busy on the marigolds, the only flowers still blooming except for one errant Stella day lily.
The lawn area should be mowed one last time before freezing nights. That means purchasing more fuel and pumping up the tire again. It may get done, it may not.
I finished the monthly Jenkins spindle challenge with 182.04 grams of singles spun for the month. The entire 4 ounce braid of Shenandoah colorway purchased at the virtual fiber festival with two small samples of BamHuey, a bamboo/merino blend, and 4 turtles of rare breed fibers, Moorit Shetland and mixed Jacob to round out the month. Now on to ply the Shenandoah Falkland on my wheel in preparation for the November challenge. The scale says 187.04, but I had to subtract the weight of the two plastic cables and two paper tags.
Another month in the life on the farm with the fading garden, many walks while the weather is nice, lots of spinning, a bit of knitting, and sewing mishaps. The sewing machine that wouldn’t work is being checked out, the new leather band for the antique treadle machine should be here tomorrow and I will finish sewing the masks cut out over the weekend using foot power instead of electricity.
Stay safe everyone. “Chose science over fiction.” Joe
The Wilderness Road Regional Museum for the past 3 years has had an afternoon/early evening event near Halloween, with two gorgeous Belgian horses pulling a wagon through the Museum property and streets of Newbern to be greeted by “spirits” of historical figures from the region, including 3 tiny, young kids portraying the Shawnee and an equally tiny Werewolf. The first year, I volunteered to help with tickets as no reservations were required that year, and to help with serving hot cider and directing some crafts for the kids in the outdoor kitchen, but the elderly woman who I had driven over to portray Mary Draper Ingles got cold very early and had someone take her home. I stepped in to do dual duty, helping to get the wagon loaded, then running in period clothing around the museum to be Mary on the opposite side of the property before the wagon got there, then back around to help prepare the next load.
Last year, I was asked just to be Mary and enjoyed playing the role of an anxious woman, fearful of getting caught out after dark. Then going into the museum and demonstrating spinning between the wagon loads.
When it was announced that they were going to do it again this year, with reservations and masks for all visitors, knowing that I was outdoors on the porch and in the front of the building, that I felt safe enough to dress in my period outfit, grab my shopping basket, and visit the spirit of the proprietor, Henry Hance, the founder of the town and shop keeper. We tweaked our part a bit to include more conversation between Doug (Henry) and me (Mary) and twice he caused me to turn to the wall laughing when he told Mary not to worry about the “Indians” that they were adorable. I didn’t set up to spin indoors this year, the museum part was closed to control the number of people inside, and to allow us to close off the old store for us to be able to safely go in as part of my skit sends me in while Henry finishes his part. This worked well, except for one “Karen” who felt entitled to come in with her group even after being told the museum was closed and the area we were in shut for our safety. She had donated something in that room and felt it was her right to bring people in to see it. Though she had to have a mask for the ride, none of them had them on in the museum. I stayed on the porch, wrapped in a wool shawl and masked between skits that occurred every 30 minutes for 8 wagonloads (about 70 people total).
It was good to get out and do some living history, see some of my living history friends again. I look forward to the day that I can return to more activities over there, to set up and spin, to work with camps and school groups on spinning and fiber usage during the late 18th and early 19th century.
Another week has drifted by in isolation with a few woods, pond, and rail cut walks. Another gray and drizzly market day. It was raining lightly when we left the house, but it hadn’t reached town when we got there. There was still some sunshine and a few broken clouds, but it was raining lightly by the time the market pick up was done and breakfast in the car eaten. There were more vendors at the market today and more people that were just browsing, too many people not respecting social distancing. Social distancing is difficult when you stand back 6 feet, then have someone “cut” in line in front of you because they don’t realize there is a line as happened to me today. I allowed it to happen instead of saying something to the two young women who shouldn’t have been there when I was as they hadn’t pre ordered, nor were they 55+ years old. Then a young man, also not meeting the prerequisites to shop that hour stepped right up next to my shoulder, again, no respect for distance. Everyone is masked and I know the young volunteers at the information table don’t want to challenge everyone with a question about whether they had pre orders or were old enough. Today made me somewhat uncomfortable in the crowd. I guess I need to go back to the beginning of the first hour and take my chances that everyone is set up. But this below is why I like our Farmer’s Market.
This is a sampling of the goodness that was brought home today, thanks to Riverstone Farm and Greenstar Farm for the veggies, Whitegate Farm for the butter and sausage, and Williamson Farm for a pound of grass finished ground beef. No bread this week since I baked during the week. As we were heading off to get breakfast, I was discussing with hubby how some of the issues could be handled, not that anyone asked me. There are three rows of vendors in an L shape. One row is under the shelter below, facing the green.
The second row backs up to them and the third row is across the lot from them, no cars are permitting on Saturday mornings except for the vendors to unload in the morning and reload in the afternoon. About where the roof changes heights, there is a two way opening to try to direct traffic that causes congestion and has people coming and going between the rows. My idea is to close in the first row with vendors filling that opening and the corner opening and making traffic one way. You enter at the first vendor in that row anyway. If they did that and shifted the last vendor in that row a couple of feet to open a path to the rear rows as the exit is currently in line with the entrance behind the first row. One way traffic would help alleviate some of the congestion.
Once the goodies were home, a basket to hold the potatoes on top of the refrigerator was sought from my supply. It needs to be away from the sunny window where the wire hanging tiered basket is that holds onions and garlic that isn’t in a braid. The one I was going to use was one of my earliest ones made and stained with Walnut stain. I used to be very good about hosing my baskets off about once a year to remove dust and dampen the reed to keep it from getting brittle, but I don’t think that most of my handmade baskets have been given that treatment since moving in to this house 15 years ago. I had noticed some broken reeds in the weave of several of the baskets, but that one was the worst. When in the basement to pull out ceramic pumpkins and the ghost to decorate with a couple of weeks ago, I spotted a plastic bin with a partially made basket and reed in it. That unfinished basket must be 18 to 20 years old. I remember the day I was teaching Son 1 and friends how to make baskets, in the back yard of the house we sold in Virginia Beach prior to building the house here. We spent a couple of years renting while plans were made, house was started, and finally completed.
The reed was checked for soundness and size. I needed narrower reed than what was there, so after soaking it and the most damaged basket, it was cut to width and the basket was repaired. That inspired me to inspect the other baskets and do more repair. There was some narrow chair caning reed that worked perfectly on the blue and natural apple basket that was made by my friend that took the class with me. The wider reed was right to repair the largest basket. The odd shaped unfinished basket was made into a very crude, misshapen basket that went on the top of the refrigerator for the potatoes and covered with a small tea towel.
Two baskets still need a rinse, but they are too large for the sink, so they will go out to the yard and get a quick hosing down. It would have bothered me when I started making baskets to not make the one on the right perfectly shaped and properly edged and the unstained reed on the stained basket would have stressed me, but it shows that repair and keep using is more important than perfection and I kind of like it.
The two winter squash with the last pumpkin from last year’s harvest were put in a wooden trencher that hubby gave me years ago from a craftsman at a fair. They will be used for meals in the next week or two and the pumpkin will make pies for our isolation holiday meals as we can’t have our kids here and since the garden did not produce pumpkins this year. The local pumpkin patches are open but they aren’t any fun without grandkids along.
Today marks the last warm dry day in the near future. The weekend is slated to be much cooler and damp.
We continue to take nearly daily walks, though back on smoother, more level surfaces after I overtaxed my hubby earlier in the week.
Most walks are through crunchy fallen leaves and “rain” showers of falling leaves.
Beautiful sunsets.
The trees never turned other than golds and many are bare already.
Healthy peas.
Garden critters.
Peppers and more peppers. After giving one string of drying peppers to daughter, there are still 4 1/2 drying in the window and more ripening in the garden. Another quart of Jalapenos pickled.
Twenty three days of spinning,
and sleeves two at a time to add to the lower body of the sweater. But knitting is causing significant pain after just a few rows.
Cases of the virus are rising in the county but mask wearing is not. “Chose science over fiction.” Joe Biden
Our cool days and chilly nights disappeared to upper 70’s days and warmer nights. It gives the garden a bit more time, and has provided some delightful days for walks on trails and the woods. I won’t walk our woods now because it is deer hunting season, but the Mountain Lake Conservancy is safe from hunting and has some delightful walks and hiking trails, only 4 miles and 2000 feet of elevation from us.
The roof through the trees, across the lake is Mountain Lake Lodge, aka Kellerman’s from Dirty Dancing fame. When we bought our property, we stayed here for a few nights with Son 1 and his family and the lake was full. It subsequently went dry and has partially refilled. We have spent two New Year’s Eves there enjoying a lovely dinner, big party with favors and champagne toast, room for the night, and breakfast the next morning.
This was another day, the cut through the mountain for the old Huckleberry rail line looking back at the walking bridge next to where the old rail bridge was. No matter the heat outside, this cut is always delightfully cool.
This weekend is an event at Wilderness Road Regional Museum, the Spirit Trail with horse drawn wagon and “spirits” of the region interacting with the riders. Because of the pandemic, the number of riders will be limited, reservations and masks required. For the past two years, I have portrayed an older, slightly crazy version of Mary Draper Ingalls. According to historical accounts, after her the capture, and that of her sister in law, and several children including hers, the deaths of so many of her relatives and friends in their community, her escape and walk back from what is now Ohio to our region, she was probably very fearful of Native Americans and of the dark. Because I am up on the porch of the house/store, and since the wagons only come by every 30 minutes. I am going to dress in my living history costume and participate this weekend. I have missed my living history and though I usually go inside and demonstrate spinning between tours, I will remain on the porch, masked when not “acting.” I love that this event can be done safely and give me the opportunity to participate and support the museum.
My crafting goes back many years and has changed it’s theme several times. As a teen, I was fascinated by an adult friend on vacation, crocheting with a fine metal needle and thin cotton thread. She was crocheting lace and was a very willing teacher though I was a left handed learner. By sitting across from her, she patiently taught me a few basic stitches and how to read the pattern. Once home, a needle and the thread were purchased and I made enough lace strips to edge a couple of pillow cases that are long gone. They were presented to my Mom for Christmas that year. The skill moved me on to making larger crochet items with yarn, afghans, a couple of vest sweaters. That stayed with me as my craft of choice for years. I added counted cross stitch as a young adult and made pictures, Christmas ornaments, and at some point later used it to do cross stitch on waste canvas on commercial knitted sweaters. Between my first and second child, I took a calligraphy evening class at the local craft store and enjoyed doing that until people realized my skill and began asking if I would do this poem or my wedding invitations, etc. It then became stressful to be perfect and not just have fun and basically quit. At a craft show, I saw smocking for the first time, and I was pregnant with child two. I decided that if the baby was a girl, I would learn to smock. When she was born, I did take smocking and French hand sewing classes at the local yarn and fiber store and made her Baptism dress, slip, and bonnet, then on to make maybe another half dozen dresses and some bonnets (she turned into quite the tomboy, now a Mom with Second Degree Decided Black belt in Taekwondo and a third level instructor), she wore those dresses and wanted them for her daughter. With that skill, I made my Mom, Mother in law, and Sister in law smocked night gowns for Christmas. That craft also faded. Somewhere in there I did some hand monograming and learned crewel and each of my three children have a personalized crewel work Christmas stocking.
After the three children were born, I developed an interest in making baskets, made my first one, an egg basket from a kit without instruction other than the written ones that came with it, then took a class with my best friend and learned to make a simple square basket with a handle and my friend and I started making baskets to sell at craft shows. That was my first experience with people looking, handling, and making rude comments about how could we charge so much when they could buy a basket at — store for a fraction of that price. After a couple of shows, I quit that scene and just used baskets as gifts and for my own use.
Skip forward to near my second retirement and the move to the mountains. First, I was here for a couple of years without hubby as he wound down his practice and retired and though I had Son 1 and family nearby, I was in an apartment alone for a year. I stumbled on the local yarn shop, I had picked up knitting again when grandson 1 was due and made t-shirts, soakers, sweaters, and diaper covers for him. I met many new friends there, enjoyed going in after work or on weekends to knit with them and buy yarn. A weekend event sponsored by them had a workshop on drop spindles and that got me hooked on spinning. At the yarn shop, I met a gal near my age that made her own soap and I mentioned that I would love to learn to do that. One day, she scheduled for me to come to her house for a cup of tea and soap making lessons. She was an excellent teacher, drilling in the basics, but having me actually do the process while she watched and guided. We made two large batches of soap that day and I came home with a pot, an immersion blender, instructions, and a silicone pan of curing soap. We have been friends now for years, sharing molds, instructions, plants, herbs, and enjoyment of each other’s company. Those lessons sent me into a soap making frenzy, trying different blends, different scents, different additions, until I had more soap than my family would use in a lifetime, and Cabin Crafted Shop was born.
As another friend says, “Land the plane,” so I’ll land it now. My craft show adventures in past years had me set up next to a lovely gal and her husband, she is a potter. I love pottery, but that is not a craft I tried. Each year we were set up beside or across from each other and became friends. She likes my yarn and my soap. I helped get her started spinning with a drop spindle and she now has a wheel she is learning on. I have bought pottery from her, she has bought soap and yarn from me. She is Dashing Dog Pottery and will be vending at the holiday markets this year, I will not, but she asked if I was still making soap. I have a supply of some varieties, but hadn’t made any in almost a year because of not expecting to vend during the pandemic. Yesterday, I made two batches of scents she requested, that I either didn’t have in stock or had less than she wanted. It felt good, and two very successful batches were made.
Two batches about to be cocooned to saponify over night.Perfectly unmolded this morning.16 beautiful, consistent bars curing to useable hardness. The end slivers cure and are cut in half for guest soaps.
The two pots, spatulas, and business end of the immersion blender sat out overnight on the counter so the caustic paste in them would saponify to soap that can easily and safely be cleaned up this morning. It is all clean and packed away for another day, another session.
My friend gets her soap, I will shop her pottery at the Holiday Market (Blacksburg Farmer’s Market) Saturdays in November and early December.
Last night, according to the indoor/outdoor thermometer didn’t reach low enough for frost. I was lazy and slept in until it was fully light out, so I can’t attest to whether there was or wasn’t any frost on the grass, but the windshields were clear. The covers were all removed from the garden and the fig. The inside of the fig shelter was like the inside of a tropical greenhouse and it looks great. I might get those figs yet.
Because I lacked enough clear plastic, the larger Jalapenos were covered with garbage bags, black ones. I probably should have removed them yesterday and put them back on last night because the very top leaves are “sunburned.” Though it never got above the mid 50’s yesterday, the sun was out. Those peppers will keep maturing for the next couple of weeks and more harvested.
The peas and other peppers had a single 10 foot wide sheet of heavy mil translucent plastic over them and they look great. The ground cherries are a semi tropical plant, they were covered with a single sheet of thinner of clearer plastic and they don’t look so good. All of the tops are badly burned, the lower leaves look ok. They will be watched for a day or two, but maybe just cut my losses, harvest the immature fruit and plant them earlier next year, the extended season I was hoping for didn’t happen this year, instead we got an early frost.
With nearly two weeks of mild weather and relatively warm nights, there is hope for the peas and more peppers.
The sweater gift is coming along. Only about 2 more inches until I need to make sleeves and move on up to the upper body. If I spent more time knitting and less spinning, I could get it wrapped up in a week.
But alas, I like spinning more than knitting, so this …
The full 4 ounce braid of the Shenandoah colorway of Falklands that I ordered from the virtual fiber festival was spun in just over 2 weeks with two 5+ gram samples, some Moorit Shetland, and some Jacob thrown in for good measure. That bowlful are all my favorite tools, photographed for my third challenge update of the month with 17 days worth of spinning. The Shenandoah will sit until after the final challenge post and I decide if I want to ply it as the gradient or use half of the singles in order and mix up the other half.
After a beautiful day yesterday, my timing to go lock up the hens for the night was perfect, just as the huge red sun was slowly dropping behind the hill to the west, dotted with the neighbor’s cows. You can barely see a couple just to the left and below the setting sun.
Two more weekends and I will have to adjust my bio clock again, that gets more difficult every year, and adjust to the new norm for locking up hens, preparing dinner, and other routine events. I still think Daylight Saving time is worthless.
After dinner last night, we got a walk in just before it got dark. It was getting quite chilly by the time we returned to the car. Instead of the nearly road wide path to the pond that we usually take, we went the opposite direction down a winding path used for bicycles and horses. Much narrower, more contour, and I feel, a nicer walk through the woods. We only encountered two mountain bikers headed back up to the parking lot until we got to the pond where there were too many unmasked people as we did a single loop and back up the wider path to the car, so a huge loop instead of in and out the same path. The pond had dozens of geese and a few ducks. The geese must be the ones that overwinter in the pond because they don’t even move off the path when you walk by them, so they are used to people. I guess we will see them regularly through the winter walks.
We ended our walk with a stop at the local village store for ice cream. There is one employee who refuses to wear a mask, an older man. His paper mask, probably the same one every day is under his chin, never, ever on. Last night he got a call requesting if they had an item and he came out from behind their plastic shower curtain shield, still unmasked, got right in my face, made a joking comment, laughed and walked on to check for the item. This morning, on our way to the Farmer’s Market pickup, we stopped there for a newspaper and the proprietor, his young employee, and the sole customer were all unmasked. This is after a week where our tiny county has had a surge of about 15 cases and 2 more hospitalizations. I know we live in a Trump dominated county, but if he would be honest about the virus and support mask wearing, I would feel safer.
When we got up this morning, the hunters were here, so the pups had to be let out on leashes, the grass was crystalline and crunchy, the indoor/outdoor thermometer showed it was cold.
As happens, the temperature dropped one more degree before it started warming up. The trip to the Farmer’s Market required window scraping.
When we returned home with our week’s supply of veggies, butter, cheese, and a bit of meat and it had warmed to comfortable in a light jacket, I checked on the garden. Everything I covered survived nicely, except the branch I apparently broke off of the big Serrano pepper. Even the uncovered bush beans don’t seem to have been badly burned and it didn’t bother the marigolds. They will remain covered until it warms tomorrow, then I will put the covers away and let nature take it’s course. It is supposed to warm back up for about 10 days, then the peppers will be done. I may continue to cover the ground cherries and peas at night when the night temps stay in the upper 30’s and see if they produce enough to harvest. After checking on it, the walled garden was in need of light weeding, there are deer tracks through out the garden and several plants have been nibbled to the ground. This garden is right up against the house and deck. I need to get a solar motion sensor light to keep them out if I plan to use it for herbs, dye garden, and flowers.
Being a gorgeous day, and living in a heavenly part of the state, we ventured a few thousand feet elevation farther up the mountain and took a walk in the woods. It was peaceful, serene, and unpopulated.
As we were finishing lunch and tonight’s chili was being prepped, I spotted the hens charging across the yard from their free ranging. Once the chili was in the slow cooker, I went out to see what was going on. A Red Tailed Hawk, smaller than any of the hens was sitting in the Forsythia, 9 hens huddled under the thick foliage. The hawk flew off, the hens were too frightened to follow me back to the secure run and coop. It took lures, long poles to poke around under the shrubs, the hose on full jet being sprayed under to get them out. They were finally herded into security. Have you ever herded chickens, like herding cats, but they are secure again.
While doing that, I realized that the temperature is dropping rapidly and it is raining lightly so I hauled the plastic sheeting, the mylar sheet, and stakes out to the garden. The wind made putting plastic over the surviving plants like wrestling an octopus, very challenging. The fig was closed in, the peppers, except for the two branches I broke off one of the Serranos, the peas, and the ground cherries were all covered.
Again, planning ahead for next year would allow me to make a tunnel over a long 3 or 4 foot wide bed with the wide sheet of plastic. I think I will note this in my gardening journal and put the plants that might still be producing in October in one bed.
That basket filled and the green ones were pickled in a half gallon jar for hubby to enjoy over the winter. There are 3 half gallon jars and 1 quart jar of them in the refrigerator and that won’t get him through the winter until next season.
The sunflower heads that were dried in the garage, need to be contained. I have found two of them on the floor mostly eaten, so there must be a very fat mouse in the garage or able to get in the garage.
Cabin Crafted 