Another beautiful day. . .

 

Lucky Peak April 30 2021

When we first moved here, (decades ago now) we would look out the window and say "Another beautiful day in Paradise". Half joking, of course, but the weather in this part of Idaho was enviable. That enviable weather is back, at least for a bit. The heat and smoke of last summer and fall is momentarily forgotten, and Jasper and I just enjoyed the view from Lucky Peak. It was unusually green because of a few very welcome days of rain.

Wild Lupines blooming

The lupines are already blooming, and the ticks and cheat grass have yet to make an appearance, making hiking here absolutely heavenly. Arrow Leaf Balsamroot is also in full throat, along with a little pink groundcover flower that is just everywhere.

Later in the summer, ticks and cheat grass will make this hike pretty much un-doable, so I am particularly grateful to be here. So is Jasper.

Oh! And the sagebrush is also blooming, so the smell is heavenly.

Arrow leaf Balsamroot

. . .and Sage Brush Putting on a show

Always happy to be on a trail

Jack of all trades. . .

I have fabric for a new summer dress, and decided to make enameled buttons for it. I've been using more porcelain or stoneware buttons of late, but it's hard to beat the lightness and thinness of metal, and the enamel doesn't add too much weight. These are a simple design, and the enamel looks more "organic" than I had initially planned. But that's ok. They're do the trick. Made of 22 gauge copper, lichen green enamel, and Iron Oxide (from an old laser printer) decals. Pretty fun. All of my dresses have hand-made buttons on them, and they are almost never noticed. Still. Like good underwear, YOU know they're there. And it feels good on the fingers when you put on the dress and button it up!

Also on my mind is that Jasper. He's been with us for almost a year now. On one hand, he adapted beautifully from the start. No accidents (though he hadn't lived inside), walks on a leash beautifully, and comes when we call him. And while it took several weeks, he became quite lively on the trail, but is still very calm in the house. 

He has, however, always had a sadness about him. He lost a lot in the months before we adopted him. . . hundreds of sheep, tens of dogs, and the few people who he knew. His canine teeth were all down to nubs (still a mystery), and he never chased a thing in the yard. Never even paid attention to it. Not even squirrels. His dog friend Luke taught him about chasing squirrels, but he has yet to do it on his own. But. Here he is, focusing on the bird feeders, which also inadvertently feed squirrels and deer. That Paying Attention is new. He is also chasing a tennis ball with great focus and enthusiasm, which is also a new behavior. So I hope that his inner spirit is allowing itself to come out and take a risk. As with every dog I've loved before him, I wish he could talk. You have to think that Border Collies would be better than average conversationalists.

My last thought is about drop spindles. These are the tools that shepherds used to turn wool into yarn as they walked around the fields. A simple and much cheaper spinning wheel. Also much slower. When we sold most of our stuff, I donated some drop spindles that were similar to these to a local yarn shop. It has been interesting to see what things we miss. Things that we can't easily replace. These were made by a local crafts-person in Pennsylvania. They worked beautifully. She had several sizes, but I liked these best. . . making about a medium size ply. She doesn't sell at the wool markets anymore, but I'm hoping I can buy one from her from afar. This looks like a simple tool, but the devil is in the details. It is beautiful, for one thing, with a lovely glaze that highlights the relief of the clay whorl. But it also has to be the right weight. Not so heavy that it breaks the fiber before you can get it spun, but not so light that it doesn't keep spinning easily on it's own. And of course, the spindle needs to be in pretty much the exact center of the whorl. I'll try making one myself, but I have no illusions of this being an easy task. Besides, I want to support folks who make beautiful functional tools. It takes a particular kind of thought, skill and madness to pull this off.

Ups and Downs and one more Bunny

 

I am getting worse at Time all the time, so this little pot was late for my youngest daughter. To be fair, she is in her thirties, and will understand. Like the Grand Childrens', it was filled with dry soil and planted with a surprise seed. Add Water and Watch. This is such a fun little form. A truncated cone that was hand built, and appliqued, and the saucer was thrown. The packing to ship is the big issue, but I'm getting better at that all the time. But My. Shipping is getting expensive.

Most things seem terribly expensive to me these days, and I remember when my mother started seeing things as costing too much. $2.50 for a cup of coffee? Highway Robbery. And that was in the year 2000! 

I found the image to the right online, after a lot of searching. These are drop spindles (for spinning yarn much slower than using a spinning wheel) that are much like some I owned Before The Purge. I thought of them when a fellow artist came by to relieve me of some of the fleece I've been spinning, and her using the drop spindle to do that made me remember mine.I generally don't regret selling most of our possessions, but I am sorry to no longer have these beauties. Hand made tools are a joy to work with.

I have also been missing the lush green of the Eastern US. It's crazy, after 21 years, but the feeling is growing stronger. I suspect politics are involved too, but I also long for those green lush Eastern forests. This is what I wrote to a friend:

"I just miss green so much. We flew out to Philly before we left for Australia, rented a car and drove through Maryland and up to Cleveland to see friends and family. We found a State Park in PA for a hike, and I cannot tell you how wonderful it was. The ground was springy under my feet, and everything was so fecund. So much variety in the plant forms. It was dense with life. The air felt silky with the humidity, which I have never been consciously fond of, but Damn. It was sweet.

We have world class hiking in these surrounding foothills and mountains, but they are only green in spring. The sagebrush steppe is fascinating but it begrudges life. And few creeks run past mid July. The Boise River makes our immediate area very livable, but so many people are discovering that. The Rocky Mountains are also spectacular. But I'm pretty sure they will all burn in the next decade or so."

Maybe we never outgrow where we come from. I am daily grateful for this place. . . for the people I love, the people I like, dogs in general, a safe house with a very decent studio. A garden. But I find myself hoping that I don't die here. Isn't that odd.