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.)



02 October 2007

Sheep in the Mist

We don't get gorillas in Michigan.

But we do get fog off Lake Michigan.

I didn't think about a fog delay until I was driving down the road, but fortunately the child had school this morning.

The fog gave me a great excuse to take a picture of the elm tree on the right side of the road, which I kept meaning to do anyway. If you've ever read about "wineglass elms," this is what they were talking about. Any year now I'll probably see this tree go down to Dutch elm disease, so I've been wanting to quick get a photo while it was healthy.

(The Fuji has a rapid-shot feature that takes three pictures in succession as fast as it can, so when I try to get pictures & drive, I just hold the camera up and press the shutter button: snick snick snick )

Thrift store finds / Recycled sweater yarn:
I had no idea this was a slubby yarn until I started to unravel the sweater and wind the yarn on my wool winder.

It's a wool blend, a total of 11 ounces/317 grams of yarn for 2.99 USD. The ball I made from the first sleeve weighed 2 ounces/57 grams. I don't know what it will become, but I just had to have it.

Rib-It:
Ribbing has started on the socks from the weekend.

I did get questioned on how I could stand to wear socks knitted from such thick yarn.

That's easy: I go barefoot most of the summer. I walk on my unpaved rocky driveway. The fatigue mat in front of my kitchen sink is a seagrass door mat, and I stand on it barefoot. The purl lumps inside the sock are pretty teeny in comparison.

It's not exactly "cobblestone walking," but hey! Maybe my thick-yarn socks are good for me!

There's a thread right now on the Knitty coffee shop called, "Ever eaten a pawpaw?"

These are paw paws, Asimina triloba, a member of the custard-apple family (Annonaceae).

Thanks to that thread, we were reminded to go picking up paw paws and putting them in our pocket -- although actually we picked these out of the trees, since by the time they fall to the ground they are as black as a frozen banana.

The one in the front and the two in the back are just barely ripe enough to eat. I first ate paw paws grown by Corwin Davis back when I was a horticulture student at Michigan State University. The flavor is vaguely banana-like, but the texture is very custard-y.

Years later, my husband and I drove across the state and bought a pair of trees from Corwin and his wife, Lethe. The trees are growing in my yard, but so far only one is blossoming, and I need the second for pollination.

And hey! Paw Paw, Michigan, is also the site of our next Society for Creative Anachronism event, Vineyard Raids IV, "Want a little cheese with that whine?" which is coming up this Saturday!

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4 Comments:

Blogger Lynn said...

Hey, that's a great pile o' pawpaws! And nice socks, too!

1:10 PM  
Blogger Sharon said...

I have always been in love with photos that show unusual/interesting lone trees. Thank you so much for sharing that one, it's hauntingly beautiful!

5:00 PM  
Blogger Georgie said...

I love pawpaws - ripe, as a fruit, and also green in a thai-style salad (made with fish sauce, chilli, tomatoes, peanuts all pounded together). When I lived in Darwin (in the tropics), my sunday morning regular breakfast from the local farmers market was a green pawpaw salad - yum!

Beautiful shot of the elm in the fog.

6:26 PM  
Blogger amy said...

We sang a song about "picking up paw-paws" in Music Together last session and I had NO clue what they were (and, apparently, no motivation to look it up) so I am so glad you shared. Now I know.

Beautiful fog pictures. That is some fog, if it causes fog delays. Wow.

9:53 PM  

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