Sunday, May 21, 2017
Monday, May 15, 2017
yarn shop (where else?) in Vineyard Haven, and then, crazily, we met them again later in the line at Back Door Donuts. Hi Sarah and Steph! I swear I am not stalking you! Back Door Donuts. Listen, I have to tell you this story. Two years ago Ethel and I were on the Vineyard, hanging out in Oak Bluffs after dark. We'd walked around at twilight looking at the camp cottages [awesome] and it was cold and dark. A cozy snack started to sound good. It was not yet Memorial Day, so not much was open, and we were about to give up, but lo, we came upon a light--a single light on someone's desk--shining from behind the window of a real estate office. A woman sat there in the circle of the single bulb. She was dressed all in white, and had long, white hair. I am not making any of this up. Ethel is bold and talkative, and she said, "I'm going to go in there and ask her if she knows of a place." I was protesting--it's late, they're definitely not open, the door is going to be locked--but the door was unlocked. She placidly looked up, like she'd been expecting us. Ethel said something like "Hi, we're new to the Island, do you know of anyplace where we could get some dessert?" The Woman in White said, "Do you know about Back Door Donuts? No? Follow me." She led us around the corner and down an alley and past some trash cans where finally a long line was forming beside some dumpsters outside a screen door at the back of a bakery where they were selling donuts. At night. A donut shop speakeasy. It was like finding Brigadoon. And you guys, these are the greatest donuts you have ever had. They pull one out of the fryer, put the bacon on (yes, the BACON) and hand it right to you. They know you don't even need a bag. We turned to thank the Woman in White, but she was gone, and when we tried to go back to the real estate office to say thank you, we couldn't find it. I have thought about that little piece of magic dozens of times in the past two years. So of course, back again on the Vineyard this year, we headed directly for the donuts, and there, as before, was the screen door, and the line, and the dumpsters, and the gorgeous sugary air all around. And naturally, seeing Steph and Sarah again at Back Door Donuts was exactly what was going to happen. Island Magic.
Monday, May 8, 2017
Ann Wood, who has since been an enormous source of inspiration, and to this book by Abby Glassenberg, from which followed, as usual, a whole fascinating rabbit hole of soft animal sculpture, and which made me scramble to my sketchbook, full of ideas. You remember the mouse? I still want to make more mice.
Monday, May 1, 2017
here, and if, like me, you have a lot of sock yarns and sock yarn leftovers that you are longing to use, you should give this one a try. I might make another one someday. Spirit Wind Farm and Fiber Studio in the colorway "Sedona Sunrise", and the other, a gift to me, was from an unknown farm, but the alpaca's name was Scotty. Gifts are like that. When somebody offers me a bag of beige fluff, I don't delve too hard. Anyway, there wasn't much of either one, so in order to have enough yardage to make something out of it, I spun them on separate bobbins and then plied them together, which toned down the rainbow sherbet effect of one, and blinged up the boringness of the beige. They meet in the middle now, to make something kind of tonal and vaguely pinkish. I might have enough yarn for a pair of mittens, and I could line those with something that won't be prickly. Plans.
Monday, April 24, 2017
this book, was just limp and dead, and pretty depressing. No springiness at all. Wah! Well. I think I will keep combing, but will spin woolen for awhile more. I just like the yarn better that way. Honor where you are right now. Sara Berman's Closet. (If you haven't seen this yet, go check it out. Click on all the links, they are all totally great.) My closet is ridiculous. Actually, all my closets are ridiculous. I spent a few hours yesterday divesting myself of yet more things I don't need. Child's outgrown orthodontic retainers? Dented trombone? Tiny souvenir guitar from somebody else's trip to Tijuana? Adios. I doubt I will go the full Sara, but it is good to remember that we are not our stuff. My memories are not in the things I own, but in me. Very interesting antique accordion that looks cool, collects dust, and nobody knows how to play? Bye.
Monday, April 17, 2017
Here it is, in action in the field, with squirrel skull, discovered on the ground underneath our big maple tree. I can't say I'm one bit sorry. Squirrels! Ugh. I hate them. That up there is my very favorite kind of squirrel. He lives to chew another hole in my barn NO MORE.