My Life in Felts and Flowers

Greetings! Tomorrow is the last day of Lucia's school, and I am incredulous. There are times when I just want to catch her and hold her. Other times, I've cheerfully scooted her out the door so I could get some work done.

In May, we attended The Magic Flute as a family, and I was inspired to create Papageno and Papagena dolls for the shop:



I decided I wanted a series of dolls at lower price points, too, so I created six flower-box babies. You can see them here, attended by Strawberry Girl:


In case you're wondering, Strawberry Girl is singing The Garden Song to them.

Any requests for what to make next?

Speaking of gardens, I am trying to put my weeds and stones in order. In among the proliferation of dandelions, however, a new plant showed up. I decided to let it be, and today, found that it was a pinkish-purple foxglove.

I'm pleased that the trillium have doubled. Here are two toad trillium:

Fairy Ring

Early May Catch-Up

Here's the thing: ever since I opened my doll shop on Etsy, I've been a lot busier. Things have been going really well this first week, and I'm having to work hard to list more dolls in the shop without getting into an assembly-line mentality. All the while, I'm conscious of how far behind I am on reading blogs, and I feel badly, because you all have been so supportive. I don't want to disappear into a sea of textiles! I realize that when I catch up on blog-reading, I have to start from different places each time. If I always start out with a wrung sponge and Amish Guitar, I will never get to What Adrienne Thinks About That and Yorkshire Pudding in the same evening.

This past weekend was Lucia's 6th birthday celebration. We got to attend a mother-daughter tea on Saturday, and then celebrate her birthday on Sunday, May 10. Rather than open up presents all at once, we spread them throughout the day. When she woke up, she found this handmade princess doll from Silver Acorn.

After breakfast, Lucia went out to the playhouse where she found a snow maiden marionette her teacher made for her in trade for a daffodil nature table doll I had made last month:



After lunch, Lucia opened up the package my niece sent, which contained a book of Russian fairy tales including the "Snegurochka" snow maiden story and this dress that my niece made:



You read that right, my niece made the dress! She makes her children's costumes and sews their Easter dresses. Yes, she's awesome. Last May, when we visited the family in California, Lucia was smitten with the "exiled princess" blue and white dress of one of her cousins. This purple dress is sewn in that style.

There were other lovely presents, too, and a festive gathering later on that afternoon. It was Mother's Day yesterday, and Bede and Lucia brought me tea and toast plus a hand-made card. I got to sleep in a little, and then work to clean up the house for guests. The house has become more of a shambles in the past couple of weeks. For now, it's clean. Would that it would stay clean!

I'll close with two phtoos. One is of the shade garden in early May:



The other is of a ladybug doll I made on Saturday, was featured in a treasury of ladybug related listings, and then sold on Sunday along with the Fuchsia doll:

Flowering-Red Currant

Earlier in the month, I posted photos of my currant bushes. Andromeda (a.k.a. Cloudscome) asked me if I planned to make jam with berries from the red-flowering currant bush. According to my research, the gorgeous currant bushes put forth beautiful flowers but the berries themselves are edible but "insipid." It's just as well. The farmer who sold me her currant jam at the farmer's market said that currant jam is even more labor-intensive than berry jam because one has to skin the berries. I am content to appreciate other people's jam-making. (By the way, I am quite willing to trade the fruits of my creativity for the jam-making fruits of yours.)

Sometimes I have a specific idea of what doll I'd like to make, while other times the felt inspires me. When I found a deep pink piece of felt at a local shop last week, I knew immediately that I wanted to make red-flowering currant doll. A friend had commissioned a doll for her daughter and gave me free rein to make what I wished, so I made this root child:



Here is the Red-Flowering Currant root child in her native habitat:



Our red-flowering currant shrub is a young plant. To view how it may look after a few years, visit here.

For those of you who are impatiently awaiting the results of the Unnecessary Children's Book Sequel contest, Minh Le has a new series to tide you over. He is reimagining picture-books as grown-up novels. In addition to Charlotte's Library's contribution of I am Still a Bunny, Minh has Goodnight Moon and The Paperback Princess for you to read.

Currant bushes

My garden is waking up. These past couple of days, I have been busy weeding to make up for my months of neglect, as well as pulling out the plants that didn't survive our multiple snow incidents that in Seattle qualify as "blizzards." Even during regular winters the lemon verbena doesn't survive, and I recently planted a new pot of my favorite sun-loving herb.

The white icicle currant bush that I blogged about earlier this month is in bloom, and as I promised Tanita, here are two photo of what the currant bush looks like now:


White icicle currant bush in the garden


Close-up

I was also smitten by the red-flowering currant bush in my daughter's school play area, and planted one next to the steps toward the back of our house. Here is a closeup of the buds on the red-flowering currant bush:


Red currant close-up

The red currant bush is supposed to attract honeybees. If it does, it'll be good news. A month ago, I saw a hummingbird flying around the area where the red currant bush is now. I stood quietly until the hummingbird flew away, and then looked around to see what might have attracted the bird to our house. I suspect it simply had taken a wrong turn, as our columbine leaves are just beginning to appear now.

Feast Day of St. Alkelda

March 28 is the feast day of St. Alkelda. According to legend, Alkelda was an Anglo-Saxon princess in 800 A.D. who was strangled to death by pagan Danish women. According to my research, there is no documentation of this saint until the late Middle-Ages, and her name may simply be derived from the Saxon word haligkelda, which can be translated to "holy well" or "healing spring." Alkelda has two churches dedicated to her: one in Middleham, and one in Giggleswick.

March 28 is also my birthday. Today I am 37, and while birthdays aren't quite the big deal that they were when I was a little girl, I'm still self-centered enough to think of it as the real first day of spring. On March 20, the daffodils were still closed, but now they are in bloom, as are the violets. The trillium in my garden have just begun to unfurl their petals. Speaking of trillium, I am currently at work stitching up a trillium boy doll (nature table action figure!) for the Etsy shop opening May 1. I've already stitched up a red sunflower and a borage doll. I feel a bit wistful about selling them, as it's different from making dolls for friends on commission or as presents. When I told my mom about my ambivalence, she said, "Your grandfather always felt that way about his paintings."

Currant Leaves for Cloudscome

Cloudscome of a wrung sponge always has such stunning photographs to go with her poems. In her honor, I took a photo of my white icicle currant bush with the new leaves beginning to unfurl:



Here is the currant bush as it appears in my still-sleepy garden:



This corner of the garden has flourished quite well. Late last November, a single rose bloomed until the snows of December. I couldn't help but think of the song "Lo, How A Rose E'er Blooming" each time I passed by.

Sunbeams and lanterns in late winter

Photo from the BBC South Yorkshire Winter Photos site

The golden crocus reaches up
To catch a sunbeam in her cup. -Walter Crane

Last May, when I had just received my new camera with the video feature, I recorded my daughter singing the Crocus song she learned at school. Despite the rough quality and the click at the end (I hadn't yet figured out how to edit, so everything was a one-take feature), you at least hear the tune for the song:

Crocus, crocus, waking up
Catch a sunbeam in your cup
Hold it tight, let it go,
Li-la, Li-la, li-lay-lo.


In the stories my family tells, crocuses and snowdrops are best friends because they're usually the first bulb flowers to poke their noses out of the ground. Recently, I composed a verse for the snowdrop:

Snowdrop, snowdrop, hanging down
Lantern shining in the town
Cold winds blow, you still grow,
Li-la, Li-la, li-lay-lo.



Photo from Irish Gardeners

You may wonder just where that snowdrop lantern shining in the town may be. Check a copy of Voices in the Park, by Anthony Browne. You'll find it. Speaking of Voices in the Park, I've had that book for years, and for awhile, each time I read it aloud to my daughter, I discovered something in the pictures I hadn't noticed before.

Poetry Friday: Dandelion, the golden summer queen

I've created three summer-themed nature table figures for my daughter's school auction. Here is the description I've submitted:

Chances are that as a child, you enjoyed blowing dandelion “clocks” and couldn’t understand why grownups looked askance as the multitudes of seeds parachuted over their lawns and gardens. Now, you can enjoy the beauty of dandelions without the drawbacks by way of your summer nature table. Lady Dandelion is created out of wool and cotton plus metal pipe-cleaners for the arms and staff. She is dressed in gold, green and white with embroidered details and stands 5 inches tall. Her flower staff is guaranteed not to go to seed.

This dandelion doll was inspired by a poem in the out-of-print poetry book The Winds that Come From Far Away, by Else Holmelund Minarik (the author of the Little Bear books). Not too long ago, I found the poem in my collection of clippings and scribblings from my New York Public Library days. Here is the poem:

I am the sun in sky of green
I am the golden summer queen.
I’m the friend to every child
Because I’m strong and bright and wild!

Grown-ups cut me when they mow—
forget they loved me long ago.
But when I’m gone, then don’t you sorrow.
I’ll be back again tomorrow!


Here is Lady Dandelion with her summer nature table companions, Lady Forget-Me-Not and Lady Fuchsia:



And now, I'm off to dig some spiky-leafed weeds out of my flower-beds.

P.S. I cannot recommend highly enough Mary Thomas's Dictionary of Embroidery Stitches. I've given you the Amazon link because it has the most information out of all the online bookstore links I've seen. I work with the book in my lap, as most of the techniques are new to me. As I mentioned in the comments, the basic stitches I used for these dolls were:

Blanket stitch-- for sewing felt pieces together with the raw sides out-- no seam allowance needed.

Chain stitch-- a simple loop stitch that allows one to make lines and curves easily.

French knot-- for dots. Sometimes my French knots don't get tucked in all the way, and I just anchor the knot with a few tiny regular "in and out" stitches

Daisy stitch-- these are the loops for flower petals. Once you learn the chain stitch, you'll have the "aha!" moment with the daisy stitch.

I used a wheatear stitch for the dandelion hem, and added green French knots to it. Wheatear is quite accessible, but I recommend that you be familiar with the chain stitch first.


This week's Poetry Friday Roundup is at Laura Salas: Writing the World For Kids.

Sunday Garden Stroll: Shade Plants

Since we are leaving for California later than planned, I have a chance for one more post. (Someone is watching the house, watering the kitties and feeding the plants. Brigands, be gone.) Thank you so much for all of your kind words and prayers about my young great-nephew. I plan to gather them all together for my niece after our trip. The funeral will be on Wednesday, May 22.

I am glad that Cloudscome of A Wrung Sponge is doing her Sunday Garden Tour again. I took some photos of plants in the shade garden this morning. Please click on the individual photos in order to enlarge them.

A brand new plant is the Disporum smithii ("Smith's fairybells" or "fairy lanterns") that I planted yesterday in memory of my great-nephew:


Here's how the fairy lanterns look with dappled light shining through the blossoms:


Keeping company with the fairy lanterns are a number of trillium, including this newly-blossomed "Bashful wakerobin":



This is Solomon's Seal, planted in front of one of the fragrant sarcococca (and HipWriterMama, you'll be pleased to know the latter is a deer-resistant plant):



Finally, here is the overview of the shade garden:


For the majority of the photos, I had to crouch down low, hold the camera accordingly, and then crop the pictures so that the angles wouldn't look wonky. Those of you who are wondering about the green plastic pots may be amused to know that they are "beer garden" slug traps. They work surprisingly well, as long as my husband doesn't keep drinking all of the beer I save for the slugs.

Baby Lettuce

The slugs are attacking my columbine, but they haven't yet found this:



I had forgotten how delicious fresh baby lettuce is. Lucia is normally not a fan of leafy greens unless they're blended into smoothies, but even she is kvelling. We had a few leaves on our way to the car, and she said, "I'm SO hungry." I got the hint, but said she could have more lettuce when she came home from school. We both understand why Peter Rabbit got carried away in Mr. MacGregor's garden.

The Cat Ate My Peppers

This is the first year that anything has thrived in this shady part of the garden, as you can see here. All that changed when I realized that the soil was choked with tree roots, and removed all that I could. Here's an idea of how that part of the garden around this time last year.

I have been spending just about every spare moment in the garden. It's a young garden. Last year was the time to beat down the knee-high weeds, figure out which of the plants my mom had planted in 2003 actually survived years of benign neglect, and bring in new plants and seeds to see how they would fare in various parts of the yard. This year has been the time in which I liberated the soil from the vast amounts of roots left over from the trees that were taken down prior to our moving in (to make way for the improved sewer line), moved plants to where they would seem happier, and start building up the spaces for more permanent perennial gardens.

Inside, I planted yellow and red roasting pepper plant seeds and placed the peat pots on the windowsill. I myself am no fan of peppers, but Lucia loves them and I love Lucia, so that's where the logic lies. I was pleasantly surprised when the seeds actually sprouted. A few weeks ago, I gave away some of my seedlings. I was looking forward to putting the peppers in pots outdoors when the weather warmed up.

Yesterday, the cats bypassed the homemade "cat-alarm" of soda-cans and strings in order to eat the pepper plants.

[Fill in the space here for all of the rotten, outrageous things I said, the things I threw, etc.]

Today, I went out and bought two yellow pepper plants. The plant specialist recommended that I put plastic bags over the plants at night, because there was no way I was bringing them indoors for the cats to destroy.



I wonder if the cats eating my peppers was karmic justice for my having stolen cucumbers? I just found out that my own garden thievery wasn't very sophisticated in comparison to how it could have been. Bede's brother would eat all of the carrots in their mother's garden, then plant the carrot tops to make it look as if they were still growing.

Snowdrops

After yesterday's library blues-shuffle, I decided to post something more pleasant for today-- a drift of snowdrops down the street in my neighbor's yard:



I don't know if the snowdrops I planted last fall will come up this spring, as they take awhile to establish themselves, but I hope for such abundance in the years to come. Lucia's "Little One" is named Snowdrop, and so she especially likes to see the flowers now. In the meantime, I plunked down two clumps of snowdrops from the plant nursery, just to have them:



The crocuses Bede and I planted are popping up everywhere, and that makes us glad. Of course, the weeds are popping up, too, but I've been more kindly disposed toward them ever since my mom pointed out that weeds bring the soil nutrients up toward the surface. Besides, digging them out loosens up the soil. I do wish that our bluebells were of the lovely variety such as Blogapotamus enjoys in her bluebell woods, and not an invasive weedy hybrid.

A playhouse of our own

Greetings! I have missed you all. Sure, I've been reading your blogs, but it's not the same as actively participating in the kidlitosphere. As you read this, we are preparing to return to Seattle from Victoria, British Columbia. Prior to visiting our relatives in Victoria, we spent a few days in a tiny town called Tahsis on North Vancouver Island, British Columbia. Bede and I won a week's stay in a cabin in Tahsis through Lucia's school auction. The school auction was my very first live auction, and so I didn't know to put my number down right after I had waved it around-- I thought I had to wait until the auctioneer called out my number. After we won the week's stay in Tahsis (and we'd had no idea where it was other than the description provided), I gave the number to Bede and said that it was safer for him to hold it. I doubt we'll attend the auction next year ( we'll go to the more financially feasible Family Night).

Anyway...

Remember the playhouse I wanted to build for Lucia? We'd decided to build it from scratch, using plans I'd ordered online. As the summer progressed, that option seemed less likely. In the end, my aunt and uncle bailed us out by getting for us a kit. It arrived the day that two of our beloved brawny cousins came to visit. My uncle and the two cousins build the playhouse/garden shed in a weekend. They were undeterred by the rain.

For perspective, here is what my brothers and I used as a playhouse when we were children:


Yes, we played in a doghouse. My grandfather had built it for our St. Bernard. The St. Bernard never used it, so we did. The doghouse was dark and windowless, but two children could fit inside it comfortably as long as those kids didn't mind resting their heads on their own shoulders.

After I moved to New York City, my mother and her boyfriend bought a house on the Maryland side of the Washington D.C. Metropolitan area. The house had a treehouse built onto the deck extension plus a gazebo in the woods below the house. The woods were filled with mosquitoes (note: it's a bad, bad idea to build a city on a swamp), but the gazebo had screens, and I spent a good amount of my visiting time sitting in the gazebo with citronella candles around me. Here's a picture:


Could those people in the photo actually be Ulric and Brad the Gorilla? Impossible! Brad is over 450 lbs. There is no way he could sit on a hammock without breaking it. But lo, here he is:


Ahem.

Here is the photo for which you've patiently waited:


Here is what the playhouse looks like from our bedroom window:



The size of the playhouse, including the porch, is 6 X 9 feet. It feels as if we've increased our living space. We're planning on putting window boxes or potted plants by the porch, and we need to clean up the dirt and mud tracked in because of the rain.

Now I can understand how Philip Pullman is able to write his books in a shed. Maybe I'll take my guitar out to the playhouse and give back a little of the love that's wafted its way over via supersonic car stereos and people bellowing "Car wash! Car wash!" for their various fundraisers.

In the upcoming days, I'll let you know about a new Saints and Spinners feature I'm developing.

Little Flower

I know I said I wasn't going to post until September 1, but I wanted to show you a photo of the columbine that appeared in my garden in August. It's a gardening miracle, I tell you. The surprise columbine lifts my spirits. I've had a few setbacks this month, including the realization that I can't go to the 1st Annual Kidlitosphere Conference after all. However, I still have many blessing. This columbine flower is one of them.

Intermission

Saints and Spinners is taking a break from posting until Monday, July 16. Here's what I'm going to do in the meantime:

1) Prepare for my 3 storytelling gigs over the next four days
2) Do some preliminary sorting and planning for the 16th Carnival of Children's Literature
3) Catch up on my blog reading and commenting

Please leave all compliments, virtual gifts, words of encouragement, ideas for future blog posts and other kind, considerate things in the comments box.



I leave you with a picture of the apricot rose in my garden. Currently, it is wilting from the heat. Today's temperature was 97 degrees Fahrenheit. I watered all my plants this evening, but clearly some of them are not going to make it.

Garden Statuary

I held off on the purchase of a St. Fiacre statue until I had some discretionary funds to purchase it. A month ago, I told stories for a group of librarians at an award ceremony, and used the cheque to order the garden statue of my choosing. It arrived today. My daughter and her friend had a great time stomping on the yards of bubble-wrap bundled around the statue.

Since I'm a fan of both saints and gardens, you can imagine how pleased I was to find a blog called St. Fiacre's Garden.

Galadriel (fuchsia)

Yesterday, I bought a Galadriel Fuchsia plant for the back yard. With a name like that, how could I not? It's a good thing the nursery didn't carry Lyra Belacqua Peonies or Hermione Anemones.

Follow the link to see what Galadriel Fuchsias really look like.

Photo shots of garden spots

Usually, when I post photos of my emerging gardens, I reveal only the pretty pictures. Today, I thought it would be appropriate to start with a pile of weeds:



What you can't see is the Yard Waste bin filled to overflowing, plus three more bags of weeds. The pile of weeds here are from only two portions of the back yard. I'm weeding bit by bit, because any other way is overwhelming and almost impossible.

This next photo shows a recently weeded portion of the back yard:


Yesterday, this portion of land was choking with dandelions, tall grass and dead pine-needles. After I cleared it, I was amused to find out that the portion of land I cleared was flatter than I thought.

The third photo is going to require some imagination:

The largest portion of land holds carrot seeds, chard seeds, and potato plants. The wee plot in the middle holds pumpkin seeds (Lucia picked them out). The plot to the far right has newly planted rhubarb roots. I'm glad I ordered a whole bunch of rhubarb roots on sale-- when I dug up the original ones in the front yard, I found that they had all rotted because I hadn't planted them correctly. Go here for what appears to be good rhubarb-growing advice.

Now for the pretty pictures....

Ever since I placed copper tape around the base of the callalily plant in the front yard, the blooms have flourished. (I said "NO!" to slugs.)


I have several different kinds of trillium on the West side of my house. This is my favorite one:

Thank you, cloudscome, for giving me good photo-taking advice.

Yesterday morning, I was so pleased to see new bleeding hearts after I thought the blooming season was over:

Alas, by the end of the day, they had all fallen off. I thought maybe Lucia had picked them off, but it would have been more like her to bring them over to show me. Lucia is remarkably lacking in guile, which I appreciate. (Yes, I'm knocking on wood as I type this.)

P.M. Update: I just finished making a "fairy garden" for Lucia:

Lucia had gone to bed by the time I completed the entrance to the garden. I've secured it as best I could, but strong winds or vigorous play will probably dislodge it. No matter. If that happens, we'll make another one.

Callalilies for HipWriterMama

HipWriterMama, you wanted to see the callalilies in my front yard. Here they are:


Here are the callalilies in the context of the South garden:


Behind the sweet-pea tent, there are seven sunflower plants growing. I planted two different kinds of sunflowers, but I suspect that only one kind is growing.(The race is on, Jules!) To the right of the tent, we've got cucumbers and winter squash growing in the front, strawberries in the middle, climbing nasturtiums under the tent to the right, and rhubarb in the back. The copper tape around the base of the callalilies seems to be effective in repelling slugs.

My last gratuitious garden photo is a composite of the East garden:


Thanks for indulging me. Now, please read Saturday's post and let me know if there are any questions you'd like me to ask Penny Esmarkus, children's book historian extraordinaire.