Lost Arts studio

A lot of the fiber arts I enjoy are things like tatting, netmaking, chair caning, and even weaving, where people will come up to me when I demonstrate and solemnly tell me, "That's a lost art."

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Location: SW Outer Nowhere, Michigan, United States

On the Internet, nobody knows you're a chicken. (With apologies to Peter Steiner.)



07 April 2007

My So-Called Spring

This is why warm and beautiful, 60- and 70-degree weather in March makes me nervous: the probability of not-so-warm weather in April. (These are my irises, frozen in the 22-degree air.)
You can't even see the daffodils flattened and covered by the snow.

I just got an email that says this afternoon's Easter-egg hunt has been moved indoors. At 22 degrees F. and a 10-degree windchill, I can understand why.

My peonies had started to come up, too. They are out there all frozen and drooping over. I'm not sure I'm looking forward to next week, when the weather starts to switch back to rain and snow and highs in the 40's. That's when all the frozen sprouts will thaw and turn as black as basil in the first fall frost. *sigh*

I wonder if I will get any black raspberries. I'm afraid the blossoms are freezing. I wouldn't mind the snow so much, as the April sun melts it so fast. What is damaging is the below-freezing air, freezing the blossoms and buds on everything. Trilliums, sweet cherry tree, apple blossoms.

I am surrounded by fruit orchards, and my stomach just sinks when I check the temperatures and see how cold it's been.

Guess I'll go knit winter socks.

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