Toys of the Trade - and TIME!

I love to knit (all together now: duuuh). But it's true, I love the tactile sensation of the yarn slipping through my fingers, I love the gradual growth of the project. I love shopping for yarn, I love looking over at my stuffed plastic containers of stash as I do laundry. But one thing I like best of all is - the toys. Accouterments. Gizmos. Chazerai. We all love our baskets or bags of knitting, our current project(s). But the toys! Ah, in the words of the popular old musical, "these are a few of my favorite things".

On the left, lying on the overshot woven basket cover (a gift from a talented weaver friend who has since left this world), are my small Shaker-style box, in which I keep stitch counters, cable needles, other assorted little necessities. (The box was a gift also, one of a set of three made by one of our reenactor friends.) The dear little acorn with the merry little squirrel (clearly not a resident of Toronto) is a box for my stitch markers. The wooden bodkin was in a bag of needles given to me by an antique store proprietor who figured they wouldn't have enough value to put out (!) The stork scissors can be documented waaaay back in history and they're small, convenient, fit in the box - and are CUTE! The pebble is a smooth oval gift from Lake Superior and is a tranquilizer, among other things; the thimble is sterling silver, gotten from E-Bay (and it fits). Then there is the ear of corn carved from water buffalo horn and the wooden fish, both needle cases. The corn holds several metal darning needles, the fish holds one, a short one, because the longer ones don't fit. The corn was presented to me by Mr. Dearling after he had surreptitiously seen me admiring it - and the fish needle case was won at a drawing this year at Grand Portage.

NOTE: I also won a jar of genuine bear grease, very useful for many things in reenacting and obviously pretty hard to come by ordinarily. However! I may have mentioned my admiration, adoration and reverence for Bears.....I thanked the bear from whom the grease had come and thrust it into Mr. Dearling's hands. He can use it for his muzzleloader and some other things, and will pretty much keep it out of my range of vision.

Now for the "TIME" mentioned in the title. Today is Wednesday. Since about last Friday I've been operating under the understanding that we're leaving for Colorado next Monday. Last night I said as much to a friend on the telephone in Mr. Dearling's hearing and he said "Oh no, ma chere, we're leaving THIS FRIDAY!" OK, by all reckoning, that's actually, really, truly and in fact the day after tomorrow. Oy VEY! I have no idea where I quit paying attention or deluded myself, but it does now occur to me that I have to: pack a suitcase with the clothing and toiletries (that word always conjurs up something other than shampoo to me) for a week spent in the modern world; I have to decide what to wear to two perfectly normal MODERN events (barbecue at the happy couple's home and the next day their wedding). It's so easy when reenacting; the only required decision is "red or white".

And as I have said before, the problem common to us all: what knitting to take? What yarns have to be wound off? Which needles? Should I take one large knitting basket and a smaller one to keep up front with me to knit from as we drive? Do I even bring the scarf I've been working on? Any cotton for dishcloths, just in case? I thought I'd be further along on the baby wrap for Aspen and the toque for her mommy; obviously they have to come along. NOTE: I've started the baby wrap but today I have to wind up the French Bleu and at least start the toque. I'm making it in the 21st century, so I'm shamelessly bringing a 12" circular for the straight-knitting part.

Then there are the books. I have what I refer to as "the toy bag" in which I bring the books I'm planning to read,; the notebook for stories which might decide they must be written NOW; the deck of cards for the just-in-case; the roll of masking tape; the ring with a bunch of mini-Sharpees (you never know); and anything else I might want at hand. My typical travel mode is to sit cross-legged on the seat so that there's room for my purse, knitting basket and toy bag on the floor in front of me, along with a water bottle. OH! I also have to bring along some MS pages I agreed to proofread, which are due back shortly after we get back. (Whew, almost forgot that!)

Oh, and in reference to the CATS - write note for Lovely Daughter and make sure she has keys for the other car, which she can use to conserve the gas in her own car, a 1978 Pontiac. That covers it all, the cats, the sticks and the books. And the clothes and toiletries. &c &c.

Do you see my dilemma? Which begs the question: Dale-Harriet, why are you sitting there tapping away on Daisy?? NOTE: of course I need to pack Daisy and her bag, including the battery chargers for the camera, the little pocket radio and the cell phone, and the twiddly thing you can poke into the car's lighter hole to plug all those battery charges into so we can drive and charge at the same time. (A round of applause for the 21st century, please.) While we are gone, on those nights that we stay in motels, I will be able to continue here, send and receive e-mail &c. (Another round of applause, if you please.)

Yeah, My Back Yard!

OK, after all that drought we had all that rain. We haven't had the flooding that's devastated so much of our state (and Minnesota, North Dakota, Ohio, points south) but from a plain of flat violet leaves gasping on the ground I now have THIS, with every example of foliage restored to uncommon health. The first is my wonderful Damper Bug, a clever sculpture made from a damper cover, shears blades for legs and a great industrial spring tail; it's the work of our own Dr. Evermore, a local hero-artist. The right is my lovely little Council Fire, one of those little ornamental fire pits. I use it for ceremonial purposes (Mr. Dearling means to toast weinies there - I guess that's OK too.)

If it all looks very jungle-y, it is. Solid violets and lots of Creeping Charlie, and I love it. You can't see it here, but there are several large trees at the back protecting my tiny wildflower garden of trillium, jack-in-the-pulpits, lilies-of-the-valley, columbine, ferns....and next to the garage, day lilies. Mr. Dearling approves (he's not fond of mowing, and I don't allow any such acting back there). Uhm...there is one little problem: I have to keep being sure to drain the fire bowl because (and this was just on the news) along with the benefits and problems brought by the deluges of the last days, we are now experiencing the beginning of a mammoth infestation of mosquitos, which have been lying dry and dormant, planning their wicked attacks, observing the comings-and-goings of their targets (that would be ME) and cackling to themselves. All the jokes about mosquitos being our State Bird become very UNfunny after battling them off and staggering in the back door, all but drained bloodless on the 20-foot dash from the garage.

On the knitting front, although it poured rain Monday morning there was sunshine by the time Lovely Daughter and I finished our wonderful smoked-whitefish-wild-rice lunch, so I asked her opinion of my two skeins of French Bleu (same color, different dye lots). She thought they were close enough (for government work) and to go with it. So I thought I'd head to my LYS and get a second, and perhaps professional, opinion.

LYS: The Sow's Ear. WELL! I hadn't been there for a while, and in the interim, they expanded! Also, my favorite former-proprietress was there, so I borrowed her expert eyes. She looked at my two skeins and said "Well.....yeah, there is a slight difference." Her recommendation? Alternate rows between the skeins. (!!!) Or do half from one skein, half from the other; as it's stuffed inside itself, that should be OK. Well, I'm not alternating rows, that sounds like waaaaay too much work to me. I may do the half-and-half, that sounds like a fair idea. She also suggested putting a stripe of another color in the middle, which would separate the blues and the difference wouldn't be evident. HOWEVER! These are "authentic to the 18th century", and the voyageurs didn't have stripes. Might've liked them, but nope. So I think after all that information gathering, I may just do the usual: knit up the toque from one skein, use the other for the last bit (they take just over one skein) and rationalize it.

Of course, I DID look for matching skeins of the blue, new ones, but ironically they had nothing that could be described as "French Bleu", at least not in the Cascade 220. HOWEVER!! Did I enjoy a couple of hours' knitting, a delicious smoothie, and then go home without buying anything? I did NOT. (Could you have? I mean, really?) Remember I said "expanded"?

Well, here's what I did get: 4 skeins of Wisdom Yarns "Poems" in a variegated sand-through-brown; it's deliciously soft, and 2 skeins of Rowan Yarns "Tapestry" in variegated sand-through-sage sort of colorway. The first is 100% wool; the second is 70%wool and 30% soy. "What are you going to make outta those, Dale-Harriet?" (You sound like Mr. Dearling.) Well...hmmm. A neckwarmer, perhaps - small shawl - can't say as I know for sure. But they're so BEAUTIFUL! Oh, and they know have shelves of Noro Kureyon, I'm doomed.

I started the baby throw again - tore it out again - and now I'm working along and think I'll just continue. I'm using the K2 - K in back of next stitch - purl pattern which we were given by the Yarn Harlot a while back. I've made one luscious muffler in that pattern, actually started another, and it makes a nice pattern, nice thickness, and as I'm a simple knitter it's diverse enough to keep me interested bugt simple enough that I don't have to refer to a pattern. The truth is, I do enjoy make simple lace patterns &c but I'm very content knitting my plain ol' knitted toques. "Movie knitting" -- between the increases at one end and decreases at the other, I don't have to watch. And if I'm at home - that is, away from the 18th century, I shamelessly use a circular needle. Recently watched "Bridge to Terabithia" and "The Last Mimsy" and enjoyed both. I like that sort of movie. In fact, we watched "Pan's Labyrinth" last week, and I liked it very much. I hear that they're making a movie of "Golden Compass" - that trilogy is one of my all-time favorite reads, but I don't know if I'll be seeing the movie. I thought "Harry Potter" worked pretty well, but my images of Golden Compass are pretty distinct.

Off to wind the French Bleu. I think Lilliane is still asleep, I should work fast. Nothing like an intrigued cat sitting next to the swift.......

Not (Quite) In My Back Yard!

Yesterday (Sunday) we went to the annual State Historical Society picnic. It's "Society-wide", which means open to all employees and families. It's held at a state historic site, and this year it was at Villa Louis, in Prairie du Chien.

I'm determinedly not launching into my discussion of why it's called "Plains of the Dog" when it has nothing to do with a dog. As you can see, the house, completely restored to its late 19th-century grandeur, is breathtaking, and the grounds! Stunning. Our day included a tour of the house (we've been, didn't go, we've been several times) and a tour of the Fur Post (we did go, in spite of being there many times - including just a couple of weeks ago). There was a "costumed interpreter" in the Fur Post, whom we know very well, so we visited with him for a while. There was also a place on the grounds with games for children or interested adults: hoop-and-stick, the game of Graces, stilt-walking. There were appropriately-dressed ladies throughout the house and on the grounds as well.

Of course, it wouldn't be a picnic without food, and I have to say, it was capital! There was fried chicken, delicious potato salad, fried green tomatoes (very popular in the 19th century here) and the beverages were in big stone crocks with a cloth over top and a large dipper. The flavor, if you will, was maintained. It was delicious, every bite (dessert! aaah - homemade gingerbread with fresh blueberries in syrup). And, as you can see, the weather was absolutely perfect -- warm but not hot, sunny but not glaring, breezy but not windy.

Oh - we rode down on "the bus" - we anticipated a regular bus with quite a few of our various colleagues, but as only seven had signed up for it, it was a van. Turned out to be very nice, though, as our seatmates included a very nice young woman (from Archives) and her two delightful daughters who entertained us playing clapping games. I LOVE those, they fascinate me, and some time I'm going to find me a girl who will teach some to me. AND...lest ye think me a piker, I knitted all the way down and back, on the baby wrap for Colorado....well, until about a half-hour from home, when I tore it all out, having decided I didn't like either the size or the pattern. Hence no pictures. Yet.

What else did you do this weekend, Dale-Harriet? I'm so glad you asked! Fortunately the weather cleared up Friday afternoon and it was beautiful. NOTE: this morning, as I write (Monday) it's thundering, dark, and raining hard. Our neighboring states are getting federal aid, being flooded all over the place.

However - Friday evening we went to Older Granddaughter's high school football game. (She shall be known as "K".) As we walked toward the field we were reminiscing, and I don't believe I've been to a high school football game since a home game at Washburn High, in...hmmm...1960? Whoooah.

Anyway, when we arrived, we discovered that the prior game was just ending - between two professional Women's Football teams! I didn't know there was such a thing - but there they were. I think "our team" won. Professional women's football. Imagine.

The weather was perfect for an evening high school football game, cool enough that I was comfy in my hooded sweatshirt. The game was pretty good, K's school won, 23-15. I like watching football, I really do. Don't know much about it, but I do know that when a guy has a football and is running pell-mell down the field, it's exciting. And when everyone in the stands gets to their feet, hollering, something's happening. I also figured out that the scoreboard tells you the score (hence the name) but also how many minutes are left in the game, and there's a cute little football shape on there so you can tell which side has the ball.

The truth is, I was there for the cheerleaders. They were down the way from us, but I have binoculars and could see them, and K, really well. They were adorable! All the cheers were very smartly done. I admit it, cheerleading and cheerleaders are a mystery to me, way outside my sphere of experience, both in high school and now. But it was a lot of fun to watch, and perhaps K will enlighten me as time goes by. We saw her briefly afterward "Hi, Grandma!" for our hugs, and went home very satisfied by the whole experience.

And before I went to bed I rooted around in the stash and found two skeins of French Bleu to start a toque for the Colorado mother (not needed until February, but I'd like to have it and the baby wrap well underway before we leave in the car next Monday).

Sure hope it clears up, I'm taking a feast of wild rice and smoked whitefish out to share with Lovely Daughter on her lunch hour. I hope the sun comes out later as advertised - my two skeins of French Bleu are the same color but different dye lots. I hope it's not a serious difference; otherwise I'll have to go yarn shopping. ::AAAhhhahahahahahaaa:: Ooops.

Peek around the corner...

I DID IT! I've actually managed to get more than one picture in....of course, I have no idea how to properly caption them in order and so on - but one must run before one falls. No...wait..."fall before one runs"....hmm. Nevermind. First, an explanation of them, and then the rest.

This is our annual journey to Grand Portage, MN where we and about 300 of our closest friends (almost literally) meet for several days of reenacting the gathering of trappers, traders, voyageurs, Native people which occurred every year; while we are there it is mid-August, roughly 1800. Because we all pay attention, there are many "come-real" moments when one can half-close the eyes and it IS August 11, 1801.

Picture #1: Evangeline on Da's coat atop a cassette (canoe box) hoping we won't notice, and take her along; picture #2: sock in lap en route...we're past Duluth!; picture #3: Chez L'Aventure, my elegant lodge a la rendezvous; picture #4: l'interieur (note my fabulous wealth, i.e., scarlet Witney blanket, sturdy trade blanket - knitting baskets, trunks - and although they're not seen, I am proud to own TWO lanterns!; picture #5: ma cuisine, the kitchen - note the fine kettle (filled with wild rice, might I add); last picture, #6: a fine Canoe du Nord, Isle Royale in the distance, and my cherished Lake Superior.

OK, saw the cat, saw the sticks - where are the books? Mais non, mes amies! I am Many Bears Woman of the Ojibway, and I read but little. The Lake and the forests are my books. (Native woman who knits??? -- once, some years ago, I accompanied mon mari when his brigade returned to Trois Rivieres and stayed there the winter. The kind Sisters there taught me to knit and to read some words from their beloved Book. It was an interesting time, and I enjoy the knitting, but was glad to return to my people's village on the bosom of le lac Superieur.

OK - that's enough of that. We find those few days spent in the 18th century restorative, healthy, peaceful and joyous. I recognize that "primitive camping" is not everyone's cup of tea (did I mention that Many Bears really loves me a cup of tea?) but it's our hobby, avocation and delight. We discovered that we do NOT, in fact, have cell phone coverage at Grand Portage - and that was just fine; they did work just a little south at Grand Marais. And lest you wonder about .... some things ...there is a hidden area up near the road populated with several Porta-johns (very clean at all times) and on the other side of the fort a small building with genuine regular Ladies' and Men's with true flushingness and running water. I may have said it before, I do say it often: it is my opinion that, if you live an exemplary life in all ways when you die you find yourself in a small log house in the forests around Grand Portage MN.

Now then, back to NOW. The day after our return home we went to dinner with all the family to celebrate both granddaughter's 11th birthday and youngest son's 36th (her father). Lest I grow complacent or dull, there was another Amazing Moment. Remember when I said, back a ways, that this is the Summer of Returned Grandchildren? At this meal I was introduced to -- my second granddaughter!! This is a very pleasant young lady, 16 years old, who came to the festivities with her young beau, to celebrate her father's 36th birthday. My youngest. I had heard of her a time or two; the first mention was when she was about two years old, and really not much since. Why did I not seek her? Honestly? I couldn't say. She hadn't been involved particularly, and while I understood that Youngest Son had been paying child support, it was just....uhm.........gee.......I don't know. I don't know.

But I HAVE met her now, and she's lovely and merry and pleasant, and I gave her my e-mail address during dinner. As the party broke up and she was heading out with her beau, she gave me a cheerful wave and called "Bye, Grandma!" So we've since been in touch by e-mail, and I have the rare amazing interesting delight of NOW becoming familiar with her, learning all about her, sharing "our side" of the family with her -- can I make up for the previous 16 years? Naw. Can I begin anew and happily add this young person to the "bosom of my family"? Ooooh yeah. She plays lacrosse and is a cheerleader, and we're going to a game Friday to cheer her on. I can hardly wait (I think this is a football-for-which-she'll-be-cheerleading game.) And -- yet one more little twist (take NOTHING for granted in this life, my friends - NOTHING) she goes to school at the same school as my dear newly-returned grandson, N. And yes, I understand that she does know him, and knows that he's her brother.

The bridge in Minneapolis collapsed, there's a war on, some aspects of my extended family are in a Difficult Sorting-Out period, our drought has ended and several counties of Wisconsin (and adjoining states) are severely flooded and acknowledged Disaster Zones.

And we had a capital time in Grand Portage, my sweet infant lad is now a 36-year-old (VERY handsome, if I do say so myself) man, my new teeth are spectacular, Autumn is drawing nigh, we have our health (that sound you hear is me, pounding on the wooden stool), we're anticipating going to a wedding in Colorado in a couple of weeks -- and this world, MY world, has quite a serving of both Better and Worse, as my Dearling agreed to.

Happiness is Wet AND Dry!

Overindulging? Who ME?

OK, I admit it; this isn't even hardly relevent, but I have never taken a picture of Evangeline's tongue before, and this clearly shows my Elegant Soiled Dove of a cat in one of her few seedy moments. Having consumed two or three leaves of fresh catnip, she fell onto this well-rubbed mouse with great delight....I think I should've cut her off before she reached this stage. Lucky for me she doesn't read blogs. Yet.

Thursday last (backtracking in a feeble attempt to maintain my alleged caught-up-edness) we went to a dinner at the Museum, featuring a presentation by our Costume and Textile Curator entitled "Hoops and Bustles". She discussed the evolution of ladies' fashions during the 19th century in a very clever way. The girl is authority, conservator, and general whiz on the subject of all things textile, and I've had the pleasure of both hearing and assisting her at various other programs. I helped her with one on quilts at a Senior Center and came away downright inspired. But THIS - this clearly is her passion, and she admitted having a particular fondness for Victorian underlinens. Her enthusiasm spilled over and it's an understatement to say "A good time was had by all." And the food was good too....I have a sort of abiding love for and interest in...well, let's say "cuisine". In my mind, eats are an enhancement to almost every event, and I always want to hear about what was served at a wedding or party or historical event. I admit it openly and baldly here. I've said it. (But I thought "Cats, Sticks, Books and PLATES" was a little cumbersome.)

Friday we did our bit by representing the Museum at a big outdoor event sponsored by Public Television for the kiddies. There were LOTS of them - the population of Madison seems to be burgeoning, and I have to say, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a more beautiful bouquet than the array of sweet little faces of every color human beings can come in. Our display included a lot of our Fur Trade stuff (and we were "dressed"...Mr. Dearling as a voyageur, I as his Metis wife - good preparation for our upcoming annual journey, about which more later). He stuck with the trade goods and I manned (is there another word for that?) a display of things to advertise our current exhibit on the World Series. I got a lot of interest with my cut-open baseball and T-Ball; I venture to say that the daycare crowd may not be up on the 1957 World Series, but they were intriqued by "what's inside of a baseball".

Today's heading refers to yesterday, though - Saturday. We went to a major Civil War reenactment in Boscobel, about an hour away. Our good friend Joe is Provost Marshall and had invited us. I venture to say that, wherever YOU are, there are Civil War reenactors (possible exception being, I think they're more sparse out west). Now, we are NOT CW reenactors. But since I have a beautiful 1857 gown made for me for a Museum gig, I look for any excuse to trot it out. And besides that, I do love hoop skirts. Admittedly they make driving a challenge in this squish-yourself-under-a-steering-wheel age, but it can be done. Mr. Dearling, who has decided he'd like a mid-19th century suit of clothes so we can do things together, just went in his usual naturalist vest and shorts; we prefer doing it right or not doing it at all.

The "wet" part was a periodic rain which varied between a light misting and a decent shower. Strolling around in grass in a rain is less enchanting in hoops than otherwise, and I was damp to the knees pretty quickly. But the rain let up for The Battle. This next requires you to dust off your imagination and "suspend disbelief".

The Battle was AMAZING! It was held on a very large field and narrated by an eloquent observer, and apparently replicated a major battle at Cold Springs. The Confederates took the day, big-time (but the replica battle that was being held today would spell a Union victory - the reenactors are very fair).

Imagine the large field, filled with cannon on both sides, soldiers forming up, firing, falling back - and through it all, Cavalry! Now, I'm largely a peacenik, but this was nothing short of a wonder. We didn't take a camera (millions of people do, and Mr. Dearling could've gotten away with it, in modern dress as he was, but we just kinda don't like to use cameras at historical events, call us weird {many do}). But there are mental pictures stored away that surpass anything; I'll just have to share them with you by written word:

The air is filled with the white smoke of cannon, and the horsemen gallop down the field, falling into single file and firing their pistols at the enemy. The ranks of foot soldiers advance, the whole line firing at once, the report shaking the ground on which we, some distance away, stood. Two men standing at opposite ends of the field wave signal flags through the haze. Men carry a fallen comrade to the back of the field (right in front of us) and the medical corps try to calm him as they wrap his leg. There is shouting, galloping, whinnying - and shooting and cannon fire.....

At the end, Grant orders his men forward; the narrator says "Keep your eye on the American flag" - and we watch as the ranks are fired upon by the Confederate soldiers behind their earthworks, and the flag bearer is soon the only one standing, and he keeps walking forward...until ordered back sternly. The battle is over, many are fallen, and the Confederate soldiers shout their praise to the Union flag bearer for his bravery.

The narrator ended with some words I found so moving, they literally brought tears to my eyes: it was about how they are not glorifying war but remembering our history, and we honor our soldiers throughout time while regretting the war. I don't remember the whole bit, but can report with authority that it was concise, brief, not preachy or political, but wise and thoughtful - all in all a perfect footnote to the reenactment of a major battle of our Civil War.
And the rain resumed.

Lastly, a touch of elegance quite foreign to me as an 18th century reenactor of the "we're out in the wilderness" persuasion: there was a Ladies' Garden Party and Tea! Karin and I went (we took the shuttle, a mini-van - try to imagine the ladies in hoops squoze into a van). It's apparently an annual event also, although Karin hadn't been before.

It was a very nice house just a few blocks from the park. When we arrived there were already quite a few ladies there. We were greeted and ushered through the garage where "maids" in long black skirts and crisp white aprons stood at the long table (they had small white caps with neat black bows too). The white cotton napkins were arranged in a basket and the forks arranged in neat rows. There were very atttractive china cups in saucers holding lemonade, and small china plates with a choice of cherry or blueberry cobbler. We made our selection and proceeded through a door where a dapper gentleman stood to assist us .. "hand us down".. the steps into the back garden.

Because of the weather, there was a large canopy under which we found small round tables with chairs; on a back screened porch there were four charming young people playing beautiful pieces on violin. A lady emerged from the house to remind us (!) that, when finished, we were to take our cups and saucers to a table where three ladies stood prepared to wash, dry and pack them, so that we might carry them away as souvenirs of the afternoon. I repeat, (!)

The cobbler was delicious, the lemonade a perfect complement, and we were joined at our table by a most gracious lady accompanied by two quiet and well-behaved young girls under her care for the afternoon. After a pleasant introduction, I learned that this lady was, like myself, an ex-patriot Minnesotan. Furthermore, she went to my same high school, just a few years later, and I in fact attended that institution with one of her brothers, a young man of my very acquaintance! This being, actually, 2007, we exchanged e-mail addresses. 'Twas a very unlikely and absolutely serendipitous meeting, and yet another enhancement to as elegant an event as I had attended in some time. My gown was entirely satisfied with my behavior....and is dried and much refreshed this morning, I happily report.

(And in case my treasured friend Jennie should see this - my gown was commented on, admired, downright fussed over at times, but ladies who ARE Civil War reenactors and who know about such things. Thank you again for making it for me, Jen!)

The rain dampened no spirits as all recognized how desperately it was needed, and none begrudged damp hems or dripping manes and tails.

OH! And I did in fact alternate knitting a cotton dishcloth (always useful at one's sink) and a stout woolen sock, the first of a pair destined for friend Joe, Provost Marshall.