Fiber journal: from concept to comfort

This blog began with the observation that I love designing clothes. However, being a lawyer doesn't allow much time to design and create garments. Neither does being in the construction trade. I had a window of opportunity last winter to indulge myself.  

Last winter I began thinking of my brother Chris, whose birthday is in February. He lived near Seattle, which can be chilly but not cold. So I figured he might use a vest, but not something warmer. This is the design I imagined he would like:

Michael donated the notebook.  

The next stage was to spin the yarn, which for this project was a Coopsworth fleece "spun in the grease"--meaning a fleece that had not been washed (but was wonderfully clean due to putting a coat on the sheep).  I also had the fortune to be invited to a dye seminar by my friend Valerie. This was the result:

Michael, who served as my mannequin, from the back.  

My brother loved it! 

Chris in his vest

I showed my sister Angela the photos while visiting with her in March, 2015, and she mentioned she could use a vest for fancy events she attends as a musician's manager. I confess, I had been thinking of her. So I ran this design past her: 

I love the notebook. I do keep notes on my phone, but I've accidentally deleted enotes before.  

So this vest took me 9 months to complete, having a house and a garden and a tractor shed and a Supreme Court brief in between.  The notes record measurements of swatches I knit so that I could fit the garment to my sister. 

Daughter and niece artwork in the background.  

Scarf compliments of my brother Juanelo. Fiber mania may run in the family.  

Of course, I consulted with her on colors. I happened to have two lovely fleeces in a light and dark gray.  

Border leister fleece. The other was a Coopsworth-Border Leister cross.  

Unlike an alpaca, I washed these fleeces first. Then I opened the locks.  

Opening locks means gently pulling them apart.  

After the locks are opened, I use my carder for coarser wool.  

Ensuring the locks all face the same way while carding and spinning makes a shinier product, known as spinning worsted.  

This time, I lengthened the batts into long thin roving, to maintain the directionality of the fibers. 

To keep lengthened batts in order, I wind them into balls.  

From batt to ball to skein.  

Border Leister single.  

Back to ball to knit to finish (weave in ends, sew in buttons) to block to wear!

Voila.  

Fiber journal: mittens!

Part of the idea of having a farm is being able to raise fiber animals and plants to feed my addiction. We aren't there yet, and so I have accumulated a number a of fleeces (purchased and received as gifts) to tide me over.  

An alpaca fleece from a friend of my sister Mariluz

This is what alpaca last looks like straight off the animal. The dirt and weeds don't show, but they are there!  I have washed alpaca fleece and then worked with it, but we now lack space to do that, so I worked with it as is.  

The lovely carding machine Michael bought for me. It has finer teeth than my other carder, for finer fleece.  

I usually put the fleece through two to three times. Not only does this take the tangles out, it removes short bits (slubs) and some of the weeds too.  

Batts from the carder, rolled up for storage. 

Different fibers have their preferences on how they feed. For the alpaca, I unrolled the batts, pulled off a hank and spun off the fold 

This wheel folds up for easy storage.  

Once I had a single spun, I then Navajo-plied it, resulting in a 3-ply yarn.  

Washed, dried and twisted into a skein.  

I then repeated the carding process with a cleaned Merino fleece I purchased a while ago. I did not spin the Merino, but pulled it into small lengths called "thrums". The knitting part took a couple of days. The mittens are made by adding a thrum in a regular pattern, fluffy ends toward the inside.  I used Merino because it is soft, felts well, and has residual lanolin to treat hands well in cold weather. The felted inside stops wind, which makes these mittens extra toasty. 

A happy birthday girl!   

I even got them done in time for the party AND the cold weather. Mischief managed.  

Walking journal: we are not alone

New Year's Day dawned bright and clear and cold. Perfect for taking a walk to the river.  

Thistle and hoar frost  

The river has been in flood stage, even if it is frozen. The level has dropped, leaving bathtub rings on the trees. 

Nevers Landing, St. Croix River

The snow left a record of a deer's less than graceful attempt to grab a New Year's Eve drink. 

Swan Lake it wasn't 

Seeing the deer tracks made me notice other prints. The mice had been out and about. 

Teeny tracks.  Mice often tunnel under the snow, like sand worms

Squirrels tiny paws are hard to catch with my cell phone camera, but the pattern is all squirrel.  

Squirrels sprong along

Rabbits make more of a V style print.  

Our yard is a bunny haven.  

The neighbor's kitty had been prowling on our side of the road.  

Cat and human tracks

It may have been slinking after the pheasant that like to cross the road here.  There are woods on both side of the road. 

Too small for turkey, too large for chickadees

We did see a number of birds on the wing, including a pileated woodpecker, snow buntings, and a bald eagle. No photos of the actual animals this time, just their feet in place. 

Weather and energy journal: Christmas Snow

We finally have snow that stuck. It started on December 23rd, warmed, cooled, and then fell steadily last night. Boxing Day thus finds us shoveling the dust. 

Door yard done! 

The worst part of having late rain, besides interminable mud, are irreparable ruts. Luckily (or craftily on my part) Michael dealt with the bumps while I cleared a path for Irene. Now we just have the easy stretch to finish. 

600 feet of driveway  

Which brings me to muse upon the relationship between capital and energy. In order to use our 1949 tractor to push snow for us, we would have to invest in a set of chains. Yet we haven't made that purchase because 1) limited funds and 2) limiting fun. Snow shoveling gets us outside and moving, burning some of the extra calories of Christmas feasts. It also allows time to examine the tracks left by rabbits, mice, squirrels, fox, and other neighbors.  

Nothing eats the American high bush cranberries.  

Aunt Harriette, who will celebrate 97 years come February, shoveled snow until she was 90.  

The matriarch still gets around under her own steam.  

Using a internal combustion engine device to move snow allows one person to do the work of two in a fraction of the time. Yet if time is no object, then using an internal combustion engine device may rob one of years of healthy living. It is good to have a shoveling partner, but I have shoveled snow by myself when Michael would travel in the winter. It is still one of my favorite winter sports. So happy Boxing Day, and may some snow (or its moral equivalent) fall for you.  

Wildlife journal: secret Santa unveiled

We brought the plants in from the great outdoors about a month ago. Someone once asked me what I do when I bring them in. I was so confused, until she mentioned "pests."  This is a farm. Outside comes in all the time, and then has to be swept up and redeposited where it belongs. Well, we've been doing a little picking up before guests come for the holidays and accidentally revealed our Secret Santa: 

Nope, not a blob of putty, as first suspected

We cannot redeposit out little buddy outside at this point in the weather cycle. Just hope there are sufficient lady bugs and flies to keep him jolly.  

Livestock journal: winter birds and sunlight (or lack thereof)

We started the tractor barn and chicken shed in May, knowing that December would come to Wisconsin. And so it has. It being the shortest day of the year, it seems appropriate to show our efforts to keep the birds happy and productive even in these dark days 

Automatic timer keeps us from staying up late

We will run permanent electricity to the tractor shed once we have rewired the house and addition. In the meantime, extension cords serve. The timer gives us 6 hours of light inside the coop after sunset. The chickens started to lay when they were in their pasture, but then stopped when the day length fell below 12 hours. 

Not exactly a sun lamp, but it does the trick

There are two nesting boxes for the chickens, one for the ducks.  

Roosts for the rest  

Chickens only use the boxes to lay eggs, but not to sleep. For that, they use the roosts.  

The ducks have their own quarters  

The birds have a place to go out most days and come in at night. Feeders are not a problem, but the water freezes. That is, until Michael ordered fish tank heaters. Now the water still flows as needed. 

Alas, no fish. 

For food, water, light, and shelter, they give us 10-12 eggs every day.  

The duck eggs almost don't fit the egg tray

Duck eggs taste like chicken eggs, only richer. Both are much more yellow than commercial eggs. I love my ducks!

Weather journal: December 8 and it is raining!

This has been one of those unusual weather years. Wet wet wet through the fall, and warm well into winter.  

Michael sunbathing with the chickens

"Warm" is a relative term. We haven't been running around in shorts, but the ground hasn't frozen and we still don't have a furnace in the new addition. Just as well since I've been MIA, stolen away frm normal existence to do battle with dragons (or their moral equivalent).

Michael has been diligently moving our belongings fr the garage into the new basement. A certain amount has been invaded by mice and squirrels.  This a blessing of nature in weeding out the unimportant by making those decisions suddenly quite easy!  

We have a Christmas tree up as of St. Nicholas Day (December 6th). Our girls sent gift boxes to mark the beginning of the season. (We sent them home grown potatoes, amongst other goodies). The tiny toys are the best. 

Among all the news of violence throughout the nation and the world, it is good to have a little silliness come settle on the doorstep (or the kitchen table). 

Harvest journal: dear deer

Saturday opened with gunshots echoing through the woods. We had no corn planted on our land this year. Standing water also changed the geography. This, in turn, altered deer migration patterns. Rather than moving in the morning, no deer showed until early afternoon. Then there were four less to wander the woods.  

Three of the four shot on Saturday. None on Sunday nor today.  

Persephone volunteered to learn how to butcher a deer. Michael is talking her through taking off the hide.  

Nice to have weather just above freezing.  

My job usually involves taking big meat and turning it into cookable portions.  

Separating lean from fat

We will probably have about 130 pounds of boneless venison by the time we are done....or at least that was what our 3 deer from last year rendered. We have a few pounds of venison burger left over, but 3 deer seem to be what 3 people can eat in a year. 

   Dear fat keeps us in soap. The rendered tallow deer needs to be mixed with olive oil so the soap is not too hard. Olive oil alone makes a bar that is too soft. Together, they are lovely.  

   The hides we donate to the Lions Club. They sponsor a summer camp with the proceeds. Some other year we will see if we can learn the fine art of tanning hides...but not this year. 

Our girls used to take these parts and make hoof prints in the snow.  

   The bones we burn on a pyre in the middle of our garden space. It adds calcium to the soil, destroys weed seed, and gives us a good excuse to have a bonfire.  

Timber harvest journal: The Deadly Umpas Tree dismembered

Michael, two chain saws, the tractor and a rope---an awesome combination. At first we thought the Umpas was a basswood, if only because all the smaller trees it had grown around and into were basswood. Then Michael began dissection.  

Lovely dry hardwood--perhaps a butternut

While Michael works on the Umpas, I work inside typing, and freezing.  The Umpas makes a lovely, long lasting, slow burning fire. There is heat in it, unlike the basswood, which burns quickly. Basswood is good I f you are just a little chilly.  Umpas scares away the deep cold. 

Michael tearing the Deadly Umpas limb from limb

Michael has the Umpas almost entirely dismembered, and it hasn't killed him...yet.  

A shadow of its former self  

Now to truck the large rounds to the vicinity of the woodshed, to be available for splitting later this winter.   We had more rain today, but it will start snowing soon. 

Timber harvest journal: the deadly Umpas tree has fallen

Now that we have wood sheds, Michael has been hunting standing deadwood to fell. He settled on an 80 foot tall basswood back about a month ago. It had grown into and around a neighboring live tree, but naturally leaned toward the field rather than downhill into the forest. The basswood gained its name of the Deadly Umpas Tree when it refused to fall. 

Standing Umpas

Michael would go out with his chain saw and I with my cell phone with 9-1-1 set to dial. I would stand on top of the tractor so I had a signal.  

Hard to figure where to cut next

We tried tying a rope on and tugging with the tractor, but the tractor just spun out and moved it not an inch. Every day for a month Michael would look out across the field and say "You may not believe this, but that Deadly Umpas Tree is still standing."  

And then came the storm. It rained. It blew. It lit up creation. Happy to have the hurricane clips on!  This morning, Michael looked out across the field and said, "You won't believe this, but the Deadly Umpas Tree is down!"  

Down but still deadly

The tree has fallen, but the limbs did not break. Sigh. So I will still be there with my cell phone set to call in an emergency as Michael goes about making the Umpas into firewood. We have about a week before it is due to snow. Wish us luck. 

Wildlife journal: a cautionary tail

One of the drawbacks of our current chicken and duck enclosure is that it is small compared to the number of birds present. They immediately ate all the grass. On the other hand, it is next to the hay field, and such lush riches tempt the chickens to fly over the fence. We would let them free forage if we thought they would survive such freedom. Enter the cautionary tail: 

Fresh blood

We think a fox may be hanging out in our woods. This is on the back side of the garage, which is adjacent to the tractor shed...and the bird run. We have crafted the coops to discourage digging animals at night, but this was a daytime hit a little too close to home. So we gather green stuff for our birds and shoo them back into their enclosure when we find them wandering afield.  We watched the escapees and found the path to freedom involved the gate. Michael added a wire to the top. We will see if this keeps the chickens penned but protected. 

Construction journal: the wind can't blow through the tractor shed any more

Michael dug the holes for the tractor shed posts in May. We are not entirely done putting up the metal, and the floor needs more dirt, but the snow can't blow into the shed anymore as of today.  

The tractor shed has metal; the attached chicken coop does not (yet) 

Yes, it looks unfinished, but that is because we put in clear plastic on the peaks to increase natural light inside.  

Let there be light! 

My job was to measure and cut. Michael got to climb the ladder and hang plastic. 

Putting in the final piece.  

We will put metal on the doors to protect them from the weather at some point. It's just good to know the tractor won't be sitting in the snow again this year. 

Harvest journal: last of the dried herbs

We harvested thyme and chives earlier, saving the parsley for last as it is frost tolerant. Despite the early snow, the weather has remained reasonably balmy, allowing us a November harvest.  

Bright green and fragrant! 

Michael found our dehydrator at a garage sale years ago. It is an home built item and works like a charm.  

Our venerable dehydrator.  

It is built from plywood, with shelves made from window scteen  material. The hole in the front and screened in area in the back create a chimney. A hot plate in the bottom provides an adjustable source of heat, with a small sheet of metal helping to diffuse the heat evenly. All in all, an elegant design. 

Garden journal: tucking in the garlic

Usually I plant my garlic in October. House building and rain delayed my planting schedule. Thankfully, today brought balmy southern winds, sunshine, and 67 degrees. I previously prepared the garden space, turning under the straw mulch from

last year's crop and adding sand left over from construction.  

Garlic tucked in for winter

Garlic likes being a couple of inches in the dirt. I've planted it pretty closely, to discourage weeds. I use the back of a rake to smooth over the cloves.  

Taking out the bumps

After the garlic is put to bed, I pull up a cover of straw. 

I planted five different types of garlic: Rocambole, River Giant, French Germinador, German Red, and Siberian White.  We have been planting these same strains for almost 15 years. I think I'm the garlic curator because I can keep track of what is planted where. For two years, when we were without garden space, my sister Mariluz and a friend kept our strains going for us.  

Rocambole-lovely large cloves

We hope to expand our garlic harvest next year, now that we have a dry space to store the braids!  

All Hallow's Eve Journal: low key celebrating

Five inches of rain in about as many days has dampened our productivity. Even so, we made an appointment to pick up a couple of bales of straw this morning. This is what a half ton of straw looks like: 

Bedding for the birds/mulch for the plants

Michael made cinnamon rolls to warm the house, and then allowed me to give them a Day of the Dead touch in case any survive until tomorrow.  

Spooky rolls  

The weather has been inauspicious for slaughtering birds, so we got to enjoy their company for yet another day.  

Putting the birds to bed

End of day blessed us with a ray or two of sunshine as we gathered firewood for the night.  

The woodyard  

Happy Halloween! 

Weather journal: first snow of the season

Harvest journal: getting into hot water

We probably should have done in the ducks months ago, but have always had better ways to spend our time. Freezing weather impends and so yesterday saw the demise of five Rouens and our one Cayuga.  

Michael with a Rouen.  

Hauling water to the lower pastures loses its attraction rapidly when freezing weather sets in. 

The Cayuga looking suspicious.  

We gathered them two at a time to exercise proper duck control. Even so, one of the last Rouens made an escape attempt...to no avail. Michael and I shooshed him into the new fowl pen (where the lucky ducks and chosen chickens live) and he joined his brethren on the chopping blocks.  

Rouen and Cayuga

We looked up how to humanely harvest chickens and ducks on line. The process starts with hanging them

by their feet. This calms chickens much more than ducks. The next is to wrap them in a gunny sack so they can't flap. Head on the block and one swift chop. Held neck down until the blood stops flowing. Then comes the hot water bath. We heated water to 145 degrees for the first two birds. The feathers resisted more than we thought proper, so upped the temperature to 160 for the rest. Hotter water worked better.  

Feet in place

We spent half a day processing 6 ducks. We got better toward the end. Today the rain falls steadily. One of the Rouens is crackling in the oven while I jar the dried thyme and prepare parsley for drying. We will have the last of the Swiss chard to accompany the roast duck.

We are slowly recovering from the amazing 3-day house raising extravaganza of last week. We did get a tarp on the roof before it started raining last week. So far, both the new addition as well as the basement have remained dry. We still have a lot of work to do to get ready for winter. Work is something that is never lacking here. Nice that it is good work to do. 

Construction journal: sheathing up!

Paul and Michael spent the day working together.  Paul built the valley and it looks wonderful. I have been worrying about this juncture for months.  

Yesterday  

The original house and the first addition had different peak heights. Paul joined them seamlessly!  

Today

I'll post a photo of Irene's new front door later. While the guys were working, I whiled away the day moving leftover cement block  I figure I lifted 7200 lbs before noon. Then I started clearing the garlic garden so it can be planted. We are late, but we've been busy.  

One last photo:  sunrise today

Construction journal: it has walls and most of a roof!

Day 2 of our time with a professional carpenter and all the trusses are placed!   

Paul with his saws all.  

First, the eaves of the original house and the first addition came off. 

The first roof truss.  

The first trusses were designed to sit on the wall of the first addition.  

Love the shadow pattern.  

Each truss weighed about 150-200 pounds.  

Matt peeking out of the hipped trusses.  

The hipping took more time than contemated all trusses were up by end of day, with fascia boards and sheathing more than half done. 

Looking fabulous! 

Another long, but good, day.  

The bonus photo:  the King Kong Carrot I gathered for our soup! 

Scary carrot (it was delicious). 

Ok. One more. Artemis was awesome tipping up the trusses.  

Construction journal: it has a wall...then two!

Today started early and ended late, but we made good progress. By about 3 pm, we had a wall standing.  

The northeastern wall is UP.  

By about 6 pm we had the second wall raised.  

The southwestern wall is UP. 

Then we ran out of boards (oops) and it got dark. Or it got dark and we ran out of boards. None of this would have happened without our amazing work crew. Paul Treml is the chief carpenter and the guy who tells us all what to do.  

Paul squaring the first wall.  

Our son in law Matt, his brother Austin, and our daughter Artemis added to the labor pool. Then there were the three guys who were visiting our neighbors, who weren't home, and so instead came over and helped lift that second wall off the floor. Thank you anonymous neighborhood angels of mercy!