Author: daryl

There are no coincidences…

There is so much to write I’m not sure where to begin…

I will start by saying this is a challenging day, this morning I woke with a start, and looked at the clock, 4:34am. It was this exact time, 10 years ago, my husband passed. I laid there for awhile, this day for some reason has been more in front of my mind than in the past few years, where time puts distance between hard things and how we feel about them.

I have written many times about my ponds. They were my late husband’s pride and joy. He spent hours counting fish, sitting by the ponds, finding peace there. I have spent a fortune trying to keep those ponds alive. Because he had traveled so much prior to his illness, the ponds had started to deteriorate. By the time he died, they were overgrown, I can’t remember if there were any fish, and they were in sorry shape. Because I have replanted most of the property with native plants, bushes and young trees, water features are an important part of the ecosystem of the yard. There are snakes, and frogs, and all kinds of pollinators flitting about, and I now get to spend hours, counting the fish and finding peace in that rushing water.

Unfortunately, over the last 10 years, problems arose, and it has been a challenge to keep the ponds going and keep the fish safe. One pond has goldfish, and that has stayed largely maintenance free, other than routine filter work. The other one, closest to the deck, has 8 koi, some of which are now 10″ long. They are affectionately known as pond pigs. They are hilarious, and are an endless source of joy.

I’ve had huge issues over the last few weeks, coming out in the mornings to feed the fish, and finding the pond half empty. My beloved pond guy, Bob, has tried hard to find the problem, and finally, I just told him to completely rebuild the waterfall, once we determined that was the source of the water loss.

He took it completely apart and found a couple of chipmunk nests, and some nice size holes in the liner under the rocks. I watched him completely rebuild the waterfall, it was air tight! Daryl 0, Chipmunks 1…

Twenty-four hours later, the stream or spillway I call it, which is where the filtered water dumps, failed. I came out in the morning and the pond had completely emptied and there were flopping 10″ koi in 4″ of water. I was heartbroken. And angry. I had a few choice words for my late husband, through tears, not understanding why this all can’t just work the way it is supposed to. I called my pond guy again, and he came out and we spent a long time talking about what to do. I had many well meaning friends not really understand the dynamics and emotional connection to these ponds and my late husband, who just said, “sell the koi and back fill the whole thing”.

Bob and I talked about options, I let him sit for a long time and stare at the spillway, which turned out, that a patch from last winter had failed. It has been an emotional roller coaster of a week, but yesterday, Bob came back with a liner, and an underlay, and he pulled the plastic tubs that created the stream bed, and started from scratch. I scampered around the yard, finding appropriate rocks and flat stones. I helped as best I could.

By 5pm last night, I came to the understanding that time isn’t kind to ponds, and sometimes they need to be redone, and that my late husband knew it was time, and maybe in his divine presence, he directed this to all fail at the same time, so that by the anniversary of his death, the pond would be fresh, and renewed, and good for a number of years. I’m sticking with this version of the story, because it gives me peace. I knew this was the correct thing to do, when Bob turned on the water and it all worked the way it should.

I sat out there today, watching the pond pigs (koi) feasting on Creeping Charlie (who knew it is considered a snack for those piggies!) A young grackle flew in, just a few feet from where I sat on the deck. I grabbed a photo (to help identify it, I’m not a birder), and he proceeded to jump into the top shelf of the waterfall and have a splash. He was having a great time.

I had a tree company come in a couple weeks ago, and remove the last of the horribly invasive 10 feet tall burning bushes, Morrow’s honeysuckle, and forsythia that lined my neighbor’s driveway. We do plan to plant the area with perennials in the fall, and there are baby baptisia growing there from my seed dance last fall. We had planted a small sumac tree and had hoped it would fill some of the space.

I have a neighbor across the street, who comes out every hour to have a cigarette. Joe sends me pictures of deer activity in the lower end of the street. He texted me the other day to tell me there were five gold finches in the front yard. He is loving the activity in my native plant yard, and understanding that having the perfect lawn, and mulched beds, isn’t good for diversity of species. It creates a sterile environment.

So of course, the deer herd made its way to my poor sumac tree, and with the invasive wall of burning bushes gone, they decimated my poor sumac in one go.

I was crushed, and sat for a while on my porch trying to think of options other than 6 foot deer fencing. I noticed an unused hanging planter on the decking of the porch, and placed it over what was left of the sumac tree. I tied a half bar of Irish Spring Soap, which I use prolifically in my textile studio to deter moths, to the hook of the plant hanger. It was a long shot.

Twelve days later, this is my sumac tree, and there are babies popping up all around. Daryl 1, Deer 0…

My gazebo, that my husband and I built, laying the circular patio, 25 years ago, while I was going through breast cancer treatment, had collapsed last winter, which I mentioned in a previous blog. My daughter rebuilt it for me, and I hoped the native vines I had planted would survive.

Survive they did, there was an explosion of native honeysuckle…

And crossvine…

…and more than half the replaced canopy is covered now in vines. Good vines.

My yard is incredible. My dogs love nosing around, finding odd things and critters. They all seem to live in tandem.

They seem to leave alone my yard crew, happily munching through the ground cover.

I have a pair of cardinals that came up to my open window every day for a week or so, the female, I named Ethel, and her mate is Fred, is quite the chatterbox. She chattered away for hours, little chips. Mostly towards Fred.

And I named the pair of Finches that hung out eating the seed heads from the Packera, Lucy and Ricky.

And last night, my daughter and I sat by the newly repaired pond and she captured this photo of a Northern Flicker. I’ve never seen one before. Her birding friend identified it.

And I have to share this cool tool my daughter gave me for Mother’s Day. It isn’t actually a garden tool, but I thought it was perfect for cutting edges in the beds, it is a throwing ax, shaped like a Uterus. You can’t make this up… So here I am, using it to edge a bed, it is really well balanced, and doesn’t matter which side I pick up. It is called a Uteraxe…

This has been an intense season of rehearsals, and concerts. I had one, the beginning of the month, that required a Viking costume, preferably in white. This was as close as I could come. I was playing recorder for this concert, so didn’t need my split skirt like I do for cello, so I used a walking skirt I’d made a few years ago, from a Folkwear pattern. I made the vest last fall, and the blouse was from an older costume I haven’t worn in awhile.

The following week we had another performance, this time for a Steam Punk Festival. If you don’t know what Steam Punk is, look it up. The costuming is like a fantasy Victorian. So I came up with pieces from my wardrobe that I could modify into something that would work for the day.

My cello recital was last weekend, I’m glad that is over so I can work on some new music. I have one more concert in a couple weeks, with cello, and then there is a breather until the end of August, and right into fall performance season.

And yes, the studio is quite active. And there are no coincidences. One of my cello teacher’s other adult students is a young nun, and along with the teacher, we played a trio of Shubert’s Ave Maria, along with a pianist for the recital. This young nun, from a local convent, and I have become friends. Turns out, her spiritual advisor’s mother was a weaver, and this young nun has had a huge desire to learn to weave. There are no coincidences that our paths have crossed.

I loaned her the small Leclerc 4-shaft sample loom, which was warped with the Learn-to-Weave sampler I designed for teaching purposes. I told her to finish off the warp, and meanwhile I would think of something more permanent. She sent me this photo, very excited, that she thought she was finished. I told her to keep weaving until the knots came all the way to the back of the castle.

Meanwhile, though she would love a floor loom, practicality insists that a small table loom would have to do for now, until she really shows that this is going to be a lifelong passion that will benefit the other sisters in the community. I have an 8-shaft Frankenstein like Structo I put together a few years ago from assorted parts, that I kept with a warp set up for the Rosepath series of borders in Carol Strickler’s 8-shaft pattern book. I really wanted to at some point go through the 40-ish different borders. I wasn’t planning on doing it this month.

So I wove, one or two a day.

…and I wove some more.

I now have maybe a dozen borders left to do, and then I’ll work with my friend to see what makes sense for her next. I know she ultimately wants to weave stoles for the nuns who are ordained as priests. (This is an Episcopal order, nuns can be priests.)

And I had a warp that I had moved from one of the Structos to a floor loom, so I could weave it more efficiently. Or so I thought. This was not one of my brightest moments. I mentioned in a previous blog, that I had set up a Structo with an 8-shaft Honeycomb sampler from Malin Selander’s Weave a Weave.

Selander’s book is written for a sinking shed loom, which I don’t have. My floor looms are jack looms, rising shed, which means for you non-weavers, that when I step on treadles to separate threads to create an opening for the shuttle to pass through, I’m now lifting 7 of 8 36″ rock maple shafts. Which is completely impractical. And I can’t weave Honeycomb upside down because the back is such a floaty mess you can’t see the pattern.

So I spent an afternoon, and moved the warp yet again, to my bigger table loom.

This is weaving so much easier, and I’ve already done two nice size samples of one of the honeycomb designs.

I’ve been documenting for the last few months, a different warp I transferred from another Structo table loom, to my small 8-shaft floor loom. This one is called Quigley, it is an 8-shaft four-tie unit weave, that is fairly complex, but the designs are stunning. I was using a handout from a three-day class given in 2015, at the Florida Tropical Weavers’ Conference, by Diane Click. She generously sent me the handout when she heard I was interested in the structure.

Many of you have written me that you would love to get in touch with Diane, and obtain a copy of the lengthy handout. Unfortunately Diane had a hard drive crash and lost a lot of her documentation. We have corresponded back and forth, and ultimately decided that I would scan the handout I have, and offer it free to anyone who wants it. I scanned just the part I used, and you can get it here in my eStore.

I had a dream early this morning when I finally fell back asleep. I was taking a workshop at Peters Valley School of Craft, a place my husband loved, and someone came up behind me and gave me a big bear hug, which freaked me out in the dream because I didn’t know who it was. I was able to wrench myself free, and I turned around, and it was Kevin, my late husband. I took from that that all would be OK, and that he was still watching out for all of us, and that what I did with his beloved pond and gardens, is what he would have wanted and that he was still watching in the background. I’m going with this interpretation, it was a pretty powerful dream, and I found that the rest of the day, I was at peace, and spent a lot of time with my pond piggies.

And if you are still reading at this point, I know this was a long one, here are some lovely flower pictures to make you smile.

There are no coincidences…

Life after 70…

I feel like I’m living in the fast lane. There is amazing stuff, cool opportunities, and great communities all around me, and I just move with a rhythm and determination because being sedentary is not in my job description. People are shocked when I say I don’t have a television. I’m more sane, and I have way more time for fun stuff. I pay attention to what happens in the world, but I don’t need images and in your face opinions. I read newspapers, and news magazines, and columns, and for me, that’s enough. I have my own little world to nurture and protect.

One month ago, my gardens looked dreary and dead. I lost all of my Carex Grayi plants, we don’t know why. Brutal winter? Dog pee? They came back gorgeous last year, but this year, nothing. I’ve ordered a few replacements, and we will see…

Within one month, the transformation is miraculous… (The yellow flowers are Packera) The specimen tree in the middle of the photo is an American Hornbeam. There are six now on the property.

And at dusk, it is magical.

Note that this is one corner of my property, viewed from the window in my music room where I eat my meals and watch the “show”. The entire half acre is full of native plants (and some remaining non native) and I will admit, there are times I just a tad overwhelmed keeping up with the invasives that insist on taking up residence in my yard.

I go out almost every day and work on an area. I have a robin that follows me around. (Cause when you disturb the soil, it makes the juicy things in the soil easier to get…)

This past month saw daffodils…

My glorious Japanese cherry (yes it isn’t native…) bloomed two weeks early for the first time since my late husband and I planted it in 1982.

I learned about hysteranthy, where the plant flowers before the leaves come out. Like this bloodroot.

And now the irises are starting to open… Even though they aren’t native, I’m in love with them and I don’t care if they spread…

And of course my driveway is framed by bleeding hearts, which aren’t native, but have been there since the 80’s and protect my hostas, also not native, from the deer. I did though, locate a couple large native bleeding hearts at a plant sale last weekend, and they are waiting to go in the ground.

Meanwhile, it is concert season. I thought December was bad… I think I’ve had at least two concerts since my last post. And I have one about every two weeks for the foreseeable future. With different themes, requiring different costumes… I’m on it…

So this was the concert last weekend, in celebration of Mothers, for Mother’s Day. We played a piece attributed to Anne Boleyn who wrote it while imprisoned in the Tower of London, awaiting her death. She knew she wouldn’t be able to raise her daughter, who later became Queen of England…I’m wearing my medieval-esque costume with the split skirt to accommodate my cello.

I made a brocade vest, and used the sheepskin scraps I had in the attic, pieced together to line it. I’ll wear it over my regular costume when it is chilly.

And May 16th, I’ll be playing with NJ Early Music at an America 250 festival in PA. When means a late 18th century costume. So I went spelunking in my closet, and my fabric stash, and ended up repurposing a dress my mother in law wore about 40 years ago to demonstrate Bobbin Lacemaking. I took it mostly apart, cut the skirt up the middle, and reworked the sleeves. I forgot to take a photo of the original. I found a green silk, enough for a split skirt, and I’ll play my cello, and bass recorder for this America 250 event. We will be playing two sets, one at 10 and one at 11:45.

And yes, I’m still weaving! I attended a guild workshop, in Rose Path Rag Rug weaving with Nancy Crampton. It was two days, and we wove a lot of samples. For some reason, which I can’t explain, except that maybe because I’m a yardage for clothing weaver, I’ve never in my 40 plus year career, ever made a rag rug…

So now I have this extremely large sampler of possibilities, all on a Rose Path threading, (that’s my sampler on the left), and I’m actually thinking about making an actual rag rug. (I’ve probably always been a bit hesitant because they are tripping hazards and I’m a klutz, and I have dogs who like to chew up textiles…)

And I’m slowly building the content for my natural dye class journal. Here are the reelings I took from the dyed yarn samples, ready to go into the journal.

But the best news, is the podcast I recorded a couple months ago, for the Sweet Georgia Yarn Company, released on Wednesday. It is an hour long, and the video can be found on YouTube.

Sweet Georgia Show Podcast/ Season 6 Episode 8, May 6, 2026 1 hr 7min.

https://sweetgeorgiayarns.com/the-sweetgeorgia-show-s6-e8-daryl-lancaster

YouTube   https://youtu.be/tbRRNszDdGI?si=8mA7uF2QLkO0J_ts

Hopefully if you listen to it, you will be inspired and laugh, because my life is sort of like that. What will she come up with next… Felicia was a lovely interviewer, and I had a blast recording it.

It has been a busy month, I turn 71 in a couple weeks, and I’m having the best time flying from one thing to another, everything in its season, and hoping to be my mom when I grow up. My beloved mother just turned 95 last weekend. I’m so very lucky to have my number one fan/supporter still with me, cheering me on, waiting anxiously to read my latest blog post (she has no internet access by choice), which will go out in tomorrow’s mail to her.

For those celebrating Mother’s Day, know that caring for anything, a child, a grown child, an animal, nature, plants, anything that requires us to pay attention and give generously of our time, patience and perseverance, deserves to be celebrated. May you all find something to celebrate Sunday, regardless of whether or not you have actual children.

Stay tuned…

Vernal Equinox

Tuesday it was 85 degrees. Today it was 43 degrees, cold, windy, and bone chilling. This is spring in NJ.

Still… My son came and helped me clean out the vegetable garden, and I got my lettuces planted. It felt wonderful to play in the mud…

My goal was to finish the natural dye class I started a year and a half ago, through Maiwa in Vancouver by the time spring came. I valiantly plowed forward, through the winter, through the snow storms, creating color and embracing knowledge, and it has been a fantastic journey. I have a huge pile of samples, that have been washed, ironed, and are ready for final tagging, putting in a journal, and putting on the shelf. I’ve learned so much. I’m going to try to keep the indigo vat going, we will see how successful I am with that. I have an herbal friend, whom I’ll be taking a medicinal herb class starting the end of April, through the county arboretum, coming tomorrow to help sort and label all the samples. She has lots of dye stuffs, and I look forward to dyeing with a friend in the coming weeks.

As the weather allowed, I started wandering the gardens, looking for things popping up, digging under all the leaf mulch from last fall, to find smothered ground cover. I was rewarded with a lovely snow crocus, not sure where they came from, not something I planted, but a beautiful, lovely surprise.

So of course, I grabbed a bunch of yarn and dove in. Cause I had an empty loom…

I wound all the skeins into cakes, noting how much I had of each.

I wound the warp…

I threaded the loom…

I beamed the warp…

And I started sampling wefts, deciding on a lovely brown wool, though I probably won’t have enough to do all 10 yards. I’ll see how far my stash takes me and then come up with plan B…

My pond guys came today. They do a spring cleaning, drain the ponds, removing fish and apparently I had a frog, who knew, power wash, refresh, hook up filters, and get everything ready for the spring. I have two ponds, which I’ve talked about extensively, I got to see the tank holding the goldfish (and frog) while they cleaned one of the ponds. I had to leave for rehearsal so I didn’t get to see all the very large koi from the second pond.

Considering how brutal this winter was, I was so happy that it looks like all my fish survived. I had some damage to the second pond, a huge crack in the upper spillway, which my pond guy tried to repair. I may have to take a hair dryer out there by the weekend to get the patch to dry. It is damp and rainy at the moment. The waterfall had a leak, which he fixed as well. I’m crossing my fingers the water level holds. I hate mucking around the ponds when the water is freezing.

The end of March, I had my first of many spring concerts, this one with New Jersey Early Music. I played both bass recorder, and cello. That’s me in the back row on the right. It is so much fun to play/perform, with some really great, talented people. We all spend countless hours practicing, rehearsing, dressing up, and performing. All volunteer. They have all been so patient and kind as I try hard to learn the cello. I’m finally at a point where I don’t wince as I draw the bow across. Much of the time now, I love the sound I get.

My next concert is April 19th, with Montclair Early Music.

I took a drive down to Maryland last weekend, to have a good visit with my almost 95 year old mom. She has had some issues this winter, which was tough on everyone, and spent much of it in and out of the hospital. I couldn’t believe how fantastic she looked when I got down there, I want to be her when I grow up.

I’m hoping any day now to hear the Sweet Georgia Yarn Podcast I recorded a few weeks ago. And a week or so ago, I was a panelist on the Handweavers Guild of America Careers in Textiles Symposium. As I sat staring at the screen, in my best professional expression, Mulder is getting into all sorts of situations to grab my attention… This basket sits on the desk where I’m recording… He makes me laugh…

We have had some pretty rainy weather, and earlier in the week, on the way to one of my many rehearsals, it started to rain, even though the sun was shining. Sure enough, as I headed southeast, every time I turned a corner or went around a bend, there was the most spectacular rainbow waiting for me. I felt like it was a sign from the universe that all will be well. At one point, I went around a bend and there was a double rainbow.

The world is a mess right now. I’m sick with worry about things I can’t do anything about. But spring is here, and nature has a way of thumbing its nose at the stupidity of man, and blossoming forth in spite of us. I’m energized, and hopeful. My daughter gave me a portable watercolor set with sketchbook, so I can draw my garden wherever I am. I drew the first spring flower I saw.

Stay tuned…

Bittersweet Farewells…

Don’t worry dear readers, I’m not going anywhere. But there have been some changes that have me saying goodbye to things that impacted my life in some way, in many areas of my life.

The biggest news is a bittersweet farewell to the Duchess. I’ve blogged about her many times, this is a 12-shaft 54″ wide Tools of the Trade loom, a monster of a loom, challenging to weave on with this aging body. But weave I did. My daughter brought her here to live, picking her up from Rochester, NY, in the middle of Covid, and I was able to clear the warp she put on shortly after that, along with one I transferred to this loom, from a 12-shaft table loom, (which is now safely in Michigan) using a pattern I purchased from Denise Kovnat. I referenced that in my previous blog post.

I cleared the loom of that warp in short order. It is a very gorgeous piece of Tencel fabric, and no I don’t have any idea of what I want to do with it. It will sit quietly and be, for now.

I started packing the loom, stripping it down to reduce weight. Fashion Institute of Technology, in NYC was sending a moving van to pick it up and move it into their new weaving space. The movers came last Tuesday in the icy rain, two strong guys with a big truck and a lift gate, and within two hours, it was loaded…

…and installed at FIT. It looks really happy with the other multi shaft looms, looks like mostly Macombers. I hope it helps a new generation love weaving. Or at least get a good workout weaving on it!

Of course that left a huge chunk of space in my studio, which I filled by just rearranging some of the furniture that was already there.

I had moved my teaching set up, for zoom meetings, to the back corner of the studio, away from light and traffic, and that was fun staging a new look behind me as I taught or just tuned in to Zoom.

With all the space, and rearranging, I’m seeing things I haven’t looked at for a while, and getting psyched to start getting more things on the remaining looms… I have a couple that are empty…

It is also a bittersweet farewell to winter. It’s probably not completely done, but it reached 69 degrees today. I will say, that though for the first time since my husband died, I’ve given thought to how much this house is to care for by myself. This latest snow storm, of 14 inches, on the back of another one that produced about 15 inches, almost finished me. I worked doggedly every day to try to clear a pathway to my house, and to try to dig out the cars. Snow days are fun until you are the one removing the snow. My daughter was on her annual Star Trek Cruise in the Caribbean, and my son was in NC at Ft. Bragg for leadership training with the military. So they were absolutely of no help. This is the picture from the Ring Camera on my front porch, after I managed to clear the front deck steps.

I shoveled daily…

But it was really beautiful. The snow was heavy, and covered the trees, and one morning, after the first snow storm, after the roads were clear enough to drive, I actually pulled over on my way to the Shakespeare Theatre to volunteer, and just looked at the stunning landscape of everything covered in a blanket of white. I didn’t even try to get a picture. It would have never done it justice. This was the view out the window in my music room.

So a farewell to this winter, hopefully there will not be anymore storms like this for the rest of the season. The snow is gone now, with the warmer temps, leaving behind a dreary muddy landscape (we got 3.25 inches of rain in the last 24 hours).

And a sad farewell to my beautiful vine covered gazebo, which didn’t survive this winter. I’m debating what to do, I can’t fix it myself, and I can’t find a handyman, and I’m just sad…

But I did go out today, and start to clean out the vegetable garden, and planted some arugula, lettuce and spinach seeds. Spring is coming…

Meanwhile, I had hoped to say goodbye to my natural dye class I’ve been doggedly working through for the last number of months. I managed to use up all the exhaust baths I saved from my 18 dye adventures.

I washed samples that I’ve been sitting on for a few weeks before I divided them into thirds.

I divided up all the samples, these are the cellulose fabrics, into thirds, one third for an extensive dye notebook, one third for Iron Modifiers, and one third for an Indigo overdye.

I thought I’d be through the indigo unit by now, but alas… I needed 7 pounds of very ripe bananas. Really…

There are many ways to create an indigo vat, and Maiwa teaches making Banana mash and using it to feed the indigo. I’ve done other methods, but I’m good at following directions. You would have laughed hysterically at me trying to carry what I hoped was 7 pounds of bananas across the produce department in my Shoprite, in the very thin produce bags, to weigh on the scale, nowhere near the bananas, and watching the bags rip as I tried to lift them onto the scale. The other shoppers were quite aghast… The things we do for our craft…

So I wait patiently for them to over rippen…

Meanwhile, I try to weave every day. I’m doggedly working through the Quigley course Diane Click was gracious enough to send me a few years ago, when I mentioned in a blog I had put a Quigley threading onto one of my Structos. Having transferred that warp to a floor loom, I threaded it based on Diane’s extensive handout from a class she taught in Florida in 2015. I do a new sample every day. I think there are 19 samples in total. I love this structure, a four tie unit weave, though it is very slow and tedious, especially in 20/2 cotton.

And dearest gentle readers, this will sound really silly, but I’ve been in mourning every since I binge watched the latest season of Bridgerton, which for those who have never seen it, is a Regency era romp through life on the ton under Queen Charlotte, turn of a couple century’s ago, (you might remember she was married to mad King George), and it is so gorgeous, so decadent, so utterly ridiculous and so addicting, that I couldn’t stop watching until the last episode. Now I have to wait probably another year and a half for season 5. The costumes are incredible. The sets lavish and stunning. And Queen Charlotte’s head pieces, are the highlights of any scene she is in. I don’t have a TV, and I don’t watch television, but I started watching Bridgerton during Covid, on Netflix, and it has been the one decadent treat every couple years. I’m sad the season is over.

And finally, I took a one day workshop in Broom making at my weaving guild. It was so much fun. The teacher, Sue Muldoon, stayed with me and I realized how much I missed the one on one I used to have with my hostess when I’d travel. Always a new friend, with an amazing story, and I’m a better person for each of the wonderful people who hosted me over the decades I taught. Sue is a wonderful teacher, very prepared, and I made some pretty cool brooms…

And there you have it. My daily life at this point, with the coming spring is now a check list of ‘Weave every day’, ‘Finish the dye class’ (when the bananas are ripe), ‘Play in the muddy gardens every day’, and of course practice every day for all the music groups I play with at the moment, spring concerts are coming up, and the set lists for each group are growing. There are multiple rehearsals each week, and I’m improving in tiny increments each time I sit down with the cello. One day I hope to be competent…

Stay tuned…

Spring is coming…

…and I’m weaving as fast as I can…

I suppose it is a good thing that there is still a foot or more of packed ice covering all of northern NJ. And of course my gardens. And half my driveway (well that part isn’t so great). I try to spend each day chipping away at the ice piles in the driveway. But the gardens I’m told are fine. Snow is an insulator, and all will be well when it finally all melts. The good news is that may take a while, and there is nothing for me to do in the gardens until I see the actual ground. Which means I have some more time inside before I have to venture outside.

I’m still slogging my way through the natural dye class through Maiwa. Each of the saved batches of dye are being reused to exhaust them, no sense tossing perfectly good dyepots. I’ve got a routine, including exhausting the exhaust baths… Don’t ask! I think I counted so far that I will have done more than 75 dyebaths. And I haven’t gotten to the indigo yet.

I finished the 8-shaft Shadow Weave scarves, design from Webs, I put the link in the last post. They are sitting in my closet waiting for the guild sale.

I kept at the 12-shaft towels my daughter started years ago. I wanted that warp off. Good thing I have such good leg and upper back strength from weaving on this monster loom, because I need it shoveling mounds of icy snow.

Pretty soon, the sight every weaver longs for…

And I cut the roll of towels off the loom, and left them for my daughter. They are really hers.

Then I took my 12-shaft Voyager Table loom, (did I mention I hate table looms?) and slowly started to transfer the echo weave draft I got from Denise Kovnat, onto the 12-shaft floor loom. I wanted to finish one last warp before this loom moves to FIT in NYC. I knew I’d never get to weaving off this complex Tencel warp on the table loom, so I started sleying the reed of the floor loom, directly from the table loom.

I got all 574 ends threaded, 36 ends per inch.

And then releasing the brake on the table loom, I wound through the four yards onto the floor loom.

And I will admit, it took a while to get the sheds clean on all 12 treadles, lots of tweaking, but once I spent the time on it, it is weaving beautifully. I love this pattern. And I love that it is a single shuttle weft. My kind of weaving.

And just today… Knots… This makes me so happy. Probably one more repeat…

I pulled a box of sheepskin fur scraps from the attic, I’m making a medieval brocade vest, and I’ll line it with the sheepskin pieced together. It only took the cat about 10 minutes to find the box, and now it is his favorite place to rest.

I think I want to come back in another life as one of my animals…

I got my latest Shuttle, Spindle and Dyepot last week. It is the publication for the Handweavers Guild of America. I casually opened the front cover and there I was, with all these young faces, part of the Careers in Textiles symposium sponsored by the Handweavers Guild of America. I was reluctant at first to be a part of it, because the path I took to become who I am doesn’t really exist anymore. But then I thought about it, and it isn’t about the path, it is about seizing opportunities and learning everything I could about each of the components that helped me earn a living as an artist, handweaver, writer, and educator. So I’m the artist, handweaver, writer and educator on the panel. It happens in March. I have started writing my presentation, which I have so much fun with…

And I practice like a crazy person every day, cello and recorders, and a week ago Friday I had a performance with one of my groups, the Mendham Consort for the Folk Project. We played a colorful version of Greensleeves, which is a song about unrequited love, from the 16th century, at a concert featuring love songs for Valentine’s Day. It was so much fun. That’s me in the center, standing, playing bass recorder. Seated next to me is my cello teacher Loni Bach.

And one of my groups, New Jersey Early Music, has its spring concert on March 22, which is coming up soon, less than 4 rehearsals to go. I’m playing cello and bass recorder for that one.

And I was just asked to record a podcast with the SweetGeorgia Yarn company, out of Vancouver. I’m always up for a podcast. I looked at their yarns, all handdyed or handpainted. They are gorgeous.

So life is of course spiraling out of control, which is all fine. I choose all these fun things, and they sometimes collide, but I have a breather before I have to get outside and work in the dirt. In the next couple of weeks, two more looms will be gone from my studio. The 12-shaft Voyager Table loom is heading to Michigan to my weaver friend there, and the 12-shaft 54″ Tools of the Trade is heading to NYC to the weaving lab at FIT. And at the Shakespeare Theatre of NJ, we are working on costuming four shows at once. And this is the off season. My weekly volunteer day there is chocked full of entertaining sewing.

Stay warm my faithful readers, and stay tuned…