of course his name is Woody...

ever wake up feeling like someone lit the fuse on an ACME bomb, and your skull is containing all of the explosion? my sinuses do not do well in Winter... which makes it near impossible to sleep most nights (or days)... which tends to result in the most dangerous pastime of all... overthinking!

i do that a lot, apparently. at least, that is what the animator always says, and mom is quick to agree, so i guess it must be a thing.

the one positive to this recent attack of sleeplessness is that it gave me a chance to catch up with a friend who is more of a morning... uhm... person? so, there i was, lost in ponderance against the backdrop of sunrise, when my overthinking was interrupted by a quick flash of movement. 

i am developing an appreciation for the the noble art of birdwatching, especially when it is like subscribing to a delivery service. i sit here, sipping hot beverages, and the birds come to me. Uber Tweets? InstaOrnithology? DoorTwitch? HelloBird? somebody needs to make this happen!!!

most of the birds fly South for the season, but there are a few hardy varieties that hang around for Winter. i recently found myself in a staring contest, from like two meters away, with a blue jay. it went on for nearly five minutes, and it seriously felt like he had been given the assignment to study me and report back to headquarters. i was afraid to even reach for a camera... so we just sat there, exchanging looks, until he blinked and flew away. 

i even see the occasional bird of prey soaring by, especially when the snowy landscape makes it easy to spot their next meal. this time around, however, my morning visitor was a male Eastern Downy Woodpecker. it is nice to finally put a face to all the noise. 

i guess no one explained the concept of a still life to Woody, because he just really wanted to hop around. and, yes... of course his name is Woody!

if you squint a bit, you might spot a few black dots on his outer, white tail feather(s). that is how you distinguish between Hairy and Downy woodpeckers (according to the folks at Cornell, so blame them if that is incorrect). 

i was looking up, while he was upside down, tapping away at an old branch. is 'bottom-up top-view' a thing?

so far, i am resisting falling further down the birding rabbit hole. i mainly try to appreciate those moments when they happen.

best of all, my cat (Cordy) does not seem to get that she is supposed to be some sort of mighty predator. so, she just snuggles under the blanket with me, and watches the birds... or the bats... or the squirrels. her other hobbies include laying claim to my stuff, and being told that she is the 'Sweetest Cupcake in the World'. seriously... can you think of a better birding buddy?

insane by association...

i broke a tooth while eating popcorn one day last week. this is not a misguided plea for any kind of sympathy. i just need you to understand the insanity that passes for normal in our home.

so... i woke up the next day to find the animator grinning from ear-to-ear, and i instantly knew that something was wrong.

him: i made an appointment for you to go to the dentist.

me: since when are you making appointments for me? aren't you the one who usually makes me do that sort of thing because you hate talking on the phone? 

him: yeh, but i made it for you anyway...

me: ... because you know i'd probably put off doing it myself for as long as i can.

him: something like that. oh, and i also made an appointment to take Titty to the vet. i did that first.

Titty (Titania, aka "Mama Kitty"), the oldest of our three two cats, has cancer. i will weep about that some other day. for now, we are trying to make her life as comfortable and enjoyable as possible in the time she has left. 

so... he called the vet before the dentist.

him: the receptionist asked if it was an emergency with Titty. is she eating? is she throwing up? or if she is meowing a lot like she might be in pain. i told her, she's eating. not throwing up. and no, she's not meowing or anything.

me: uhm... okay.

him: so then i called the dentist, and the receptionist asked how you chipped your tooth. i said eating popcorn. she asked if it's bleeding. i said no. then she asked if it's an emergency, if you're experiencing any pain...

me: and...?

him: so i said, "no, she's not meowing or anything".

so now i get to look forward to entering the dentist's office with the receptionist already convinced that i might be insane by association. 

speaking of insane associations...

mom called me one day, about a month or so ago. i was deeply concerned from "hello". 

mom: N—, i have to tell you something, and i don't want you to get upset.

me: okay...? [already dreading whatever she will say next]

mom: the plants are coming up in the garden.

then i turned toward the nearest window, and gazed out into the third (or fourth... i lost count at some point) snowstorm over the span of that week. 

i bring this up last bit up because it is currently the last day of April—Spring having officially begun more than a month ago—and we had a snowstorm as recently as a last week. but, apparently, this insanity is what i signed up for. 

it has been a while since my last post. i draw a firm line at keeping this space on the lighter side of life (dying cats get a pass for sheer sadness factor). i kept writing draft after draft, but i always hesitated when it came time to hit "publish". it is really hard to keep a lighthearted focus on the absurd side of life when so much of it feels anything but these days. still, i figured i would send up a smoke signal of sorts to say that i am still here. 

so... hello again!

i lost my crafting mojo for a while, but it seems to be back in (almost) full force. i considered doing a week month of daily short posts to try to document some of the stuff i have made over the past year... or two. however, committing to that will require an even larger dose of 'jo. 

there is one pretty cool thing that happened recently that has definitely added to the urge to get back to my crafty activities. 

i won a thing!

i left a comment on a You Tube video, which entered me into a raffle from Ewethful Fiber Farm and Mill... and i WON!!! 

this is honestly one of the two (or three) knitting-related channels i keep up with these days. the mill owner/operator Kim is a lovely person, and her YT videos offers glimpses into their life on the farm (which includes the family grass seed business and a menagerie of ridiculous animals). she also gives us regular behind the scene tours of the production process. it never stops being fascinating to see piles of dirty wool being turned into clean, beautiful yarn.

she sources fiber from small farms in her area, and she often has wool from breeds of sheep beyond the ones that get used for most things (Merino, Corriedale, Cormo, BFL, and those other "regulars"). i have been making an effort to seek out new (to me) breeds when purchasing fleeces over the past couple-few years, so i was especially drawn to the eclectic blends of fibers Kim utilizes. 

the original prize on offer included mohair, but that was more than my allergies can handle, so i asked Kim to substitute something (mohair-free) in a natural, dark color that i could blend together with some of the (closet-full of) white fleece waiting to be spun. i received a blend of Alpaca and Shetland wool (from one of Kim's own sheep named Drilla). 

i opted for un-spun fiber, so it arrived as a long rope (called roving, for the uninitiated who have made it this far). 

i found the beginning of the roving, and it was sooo tempting to start spinning away. however, i will stick to the original plan. this will become part of a lovely, heathery handspun yarn... someday. thank you so much for the generous gift, Kim (and Drilla). 

i only "eh" in jest...

i climbed out of bed unapologetically late today to find that it had rained while i was asleep. this was a most welcome sight, as Eastern Canada is in the grips of a sweltering heat-wave. the rain brought a brief respite, prompting the appearance of some much-needed pollinators who have been mostly laying low over the past week.

the animator caught a shot of a butterfly resting on a rain-drenched squash leaf in this year's balcony garden project... which he promptly turned into a jigsaw puzzle.

there was some dispute regarding the use of said image.

me: i'm gonna put that picture in my blog post.
him: did you ask for my permission to use it?
me: did you ask for my permission to use my camera?
him: [silence]
me: exactly! my camera. my photo. 
him: but i took it.
me: good luck proving that.

there has also been a spike in the number of wildfires across Quebec, which makes sense with all this heat. however, forestry experts have identified an additional, wholly-unexpected factor that is contributing to there being twice as many forest fires as usual at this time of the year.

you guessed it...it's the covid!

people are stuck at home, with little by way of distraction/entertainment, so the great outdoors presents itself as an attractive destination for anyone seeking to escape the confinement (while maintaining the common sense avoidance of other human beings). as a result, a lot more of them than usual are coming to the same dangerous conclusion.

"let's go camping, eh?"

now, i feel a need to pause here for a moment to address anyone who may have read that last sentence, and are now concerned that i may have gone native. i assure you that no such thing has occurred. i could not stop sounding like i spent most of my life in New York City, no matter how hard i might try. that quintessentially Canadian noise only ever escapes my face when i am joking about the place. trust me... i only "eh" in jest.

where was i again?

oh, yes... more people going camping, which means more irresponsible campfires, which means more forest fires. so now there is one more thing to worry about in what is already shaping up to be the most stress-inducing year in recorded history.

speaking of stress...

'twould seem i am doing a particularly bad job at keeping mine in check of late. i actually found myself on the receiving end of a bit of (wholly professional) medical advice that is unlike any i have encountered before. "you need to calm the hell down," he said. so now i can add that the list of things to (try not to) stress about. good grief!

i began my quest for calm by harassing a farmer about some sheep, and eventually purchasing a couple fleeces from the good people over at Kinnaird Farm. yes, i did recently get two fleeces (from a different farm). however, i really wanted some naturally-colored grey/black wool, so i convinced myself that this purchase was totally justified.

the only disappointment was that i could not go pick them up in person, as a visit to a sheep farm would definitely have knocked my stress levels down a few notches. the animator was prepared to turn the drive into a fun day trip. however, i am taking the whole 'common sense avoidance of other human beings' thing most seriously, so i ended up having the fleeces shipped to me... and the box sat unopened in a corner for several days.

him: you're not gonna open your package?
me: nope!
him: i thought you were so excited to get your fleece.
me: i am.
him: so why don't you open it?
me: the covid. 
him: i see.

it was like every gift-giving holiday rolled into one when i finally broke the seal on that box.

then i broke the vacuum seal on the biggest ziploc bag i have ever seen, and stood there in awe as the fiber expanded. everyone is entitled to their brand of crazy, and i totally embrace mine.

first there was Frosty, a North Country Cheviot/Blue-faced Leicester/Romney/Rideau Arcott cross. i have never worked with purebred Romney or Rideau Arcott wool, but i can see the definite influence in the cross. Frosty is a "hogget", which means a sheep that is in its second year. the term can also apply to the wool and the meat from the animal. yes, i do take my hobby very seriously.

i laid Frosty's fleece out (tip-side up) on a painting tarp that i commandeered for this very purpose. ten points if you spot the ridiculous cat. that is Cordy. she will show up again... and again.

i grabbed a few locks from different parts of the fleece. this one should have been called "Jacob", on account of the coat of many colors. it is insane that all of this came from the same sheep.

next came Blackie. this one is a NCC-BFL cross, and the fleece is finer and more springy than Frosty's. as with most naturally "black" sheep, the color of the wool is actually a super-dark, greyish brown.

i was trying to get a shot with my dark-grey kitty Philly for comparison, but she was more interested in running around like a lunatic.

i forgot to get a photo of Blackie's fleece opened out on the tarp, so i had to pause composing this post to do so (cut-side up this time) .

i took fewer samples from this one, as there was less variation across the whole thing. it is a mostly-uniform dark color with a tweedy patch that left me wondering if this sheep might be related to Don King. [disclaimer for legal purposes: i am in no way suggesting that Don King has engaged in any activity that might have resulted in his DNA being part of a sheep's lineage.]

as per usual, i grabbed some hot, soapy water...

and gave the sample fibers a wash, keeping them covered to maintain the heat in the water. the yogurt containers from last time have already gone into the recycling, so i am using takeout containers this time around... if you need all the details.

those greyscale colors really come alive after a wash. Frosty is on the top row, and Blackie is on the bottom. i really love those silvery-grey sections of Frosty's fleece. it would be nice to find a whole fleece that color.

i decided to wash Frosty's fleece first. i want to keep the locks intact, so i have been carefully laying them out in plastic mesh baskets that i keep for this very purpose, and washing them one basket at a time.

yes, it does take longer than if i divided the fleece in a couple-few batches and washed it like that, but there is something indescribably calming about sitting cross-legged on the floor, carefully organizing chunks of dirty wool into neat rows. that calm was, after all, the point of this whole thing.

unfortunately, Cordy (the Little One of our furry trio) keeps hanging around, trying to eat bits of the wool, and keeping her out of trouble is definitely cutting into the relaxing part of this exercise. try explaining to a cat that the doctor says you need to "calm the hell down". she is as troublesome as she is adorable.

i tied pieces of bird netting to a collapsible laundry rack to make a two-tiered wool-drying rack.

i would have added a third layer of netting to the bottom of the rack, but this setup doubles as a cat trap, so that would have been a very most terribly bad idea. she is seriously my favorite cat.

i want to fill the bathtub with this stuff, and dive in head-first. it is so lovely!

you can see the difference between the tips (left) and the cut-end (right) of the fiber. i wonder if this was the first time Frosty got a haircut. [addendum: the farmer said Frosty also had a haircut last year.]

i am about halfway done with this fleece, then i will move on to washing Blackie's. hopefully my poor cat will survive the over-stimulation.

there has also been quite a bit of spinning in between playing with dirty wool. i mentioned back in April that i had started spinning up the fiber i bought at last Summer's Twist Fibre Festival. [naturally, said festival is cancelled this year... which was another excuse for buying two more fleeces.] that got pushed to the side for a while, but i want to free up the wheel to start spinning all the fleece i have been accumulating of late.

i have two full jumbo bobbins so far, with about half a bobbin's worth of that fiber left to go, which should (hopefully) be enough for a simple sweater of some sort for self.

oh, and there was also a calendar at the bottom of the box of fleeces, and it is filled (naturally) with photos of happy sheep. one of those days was my birthday. it was total rubbish. perhaps i will get around to celebrating it some other day when life is slightly less insane.

it seems to be raining again. i am going to resume sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing with dirty fleece, with at least one cat close at hand to keep me company. i would not have it any other way.

Jultember: reflexive-protective-position...

i fell down a virtual rabbit hole late last night, and i was more than an hour deep into watching videos of people making different types of Asian noodle soups before i managed to crawl back out. naturally, that is ALL i have been thinking about today.

my appetite has been a bit lacking of late, so i have been spending most of the last few days with a hot beverage always close at hand, and really only having one meal for the day. as a result, i had a cappuccino and one or two cups of tea during the earlier part of the day, but i was saving my appetite for a bowl of noodle soup.

naturally, i was not going to make the thing. it is near impossible to cook for one, and the last thing i want is to spend the next three days looking at the same pot of soup every time i open the fridge. i left the soup-making to the experts.

so, i ordered my soup, and i proceed to take the necessary steps to keep the interaction to an absolute minimum at the door.

payment method? check. phone in hand so i can buzz them in at the front door? check. then there was that other thing.

i should point out that it was post-sunset at this point, and i had made a point of closing the drapes because the rest of the world did not need to see me wandering around in a t-shirt and not much else.

i did not want to traumatize the delivery person, so i grabbed a pair of pajama pants and tossed them over the arm of the sofa, so that i could pull them on as i was walking toward the door. then i waited.

i had this all planned out: the phone rings... i grab it and say "hello, all the way upstairs"... then i press the button to open the door... then i pick up my pajama pants and quickly pull them on while i am moving toward the apartment door. no problem!

what could possibly go wrong... right?

so, i sat cross-legged on my favorite sofa with my computer in front of me on the table, and i proceeded to engage in what i usually describe as "minding my own business" until it was time to answer the door.

finally... the phone rang, i answered and said my bit, then grabbed the pajama pants in one hand while simultaneously unfolding my legs to place my feet on the floor.

that is when it happened.

in my overzealous attempt at standing, i managed to send one foot racing just a bit too quickly from atop the sofa, and i miscalculated the precise trajectory required to make contact with the floor. what it did make contact with, however, was the side of the solid-wood table.

not gonna lie... i screamed when it happened. it hurt so much!

so now i drop the pajama pants and go into some sort of reflexive-protective-position, with both hands trying to cradle the injured part of that foot. this was not a run-of-the-mill toe stub. it was the kind of impact that could easily result in a broken toe, or at the very least, in a bloody, dislodged toenail, so i fully expected to see something oozing when i moved my hands away from the affected toe. it looked okay at this point, but it was still hurting more than anything ever should.

this was when i remembered that i needed to answer the door.

i grabbed the pajama pants from off the floor, and gingerly managed to get the injured foot through one leg, but i had to sit back down on the edge of the sofa to do the same for the other side, as there was no way i could stand on one leg with that throbbing foot.

so i start hobbling toward the door, wincing tearfully every time i have to step on the injured foot, while also trying to pull up my pajama pants which are somewhere around my knees at this point.

it was magical.

i heard footsteps out in the hallway, so i unlocked the door and opened it a bit to save him the trouble of ringing the bell or knocking on the door. naturally, i managed in doing so to bang the lower edge of the door right up against the might-be-broken toe, so i dropped down into the reflexive-protective-position and started whimpering once again.

and that is where the delivery guy found me.

crouched over by the partially-opened door, holding my foot with one hand, while struggling to pull the waistband of my pink-and-black snowflake pajamas up past my hips with the other.

i am sure that there is now a special symbol next to our address in their records, and we may be banned from ever ordering food from them again. but, on the plus side, i am fairly certain that my toe is not broken. it hurts very much, and i have to walk on that heel to take the weight off the front of my foot. still, i can move the toe, so nothing appears to be broken, although that toenail will likely pop off in a day or two. joy!

and, yes... the soup was really good.

oh, and while i am on the subject of 'protective positions', i almost forgot what i intended to talk about today.

we decided to keep the trough of strawberry plants indoors following the work on the balcony. i was fully prepared for the leaves to start turning yellow and dropping after having been removed so abruptly from the sunny outdoors, but they just kept on growing...

and so did the fruit. i seriously had no idea that a couple strawberry plants could be so productive. there is more fruit in those two little clusters that i have gotten all Summer so far. and there are heaps of other such clusters of fruit in various stages of growth all over the plants. when i think of how many strawberries i could have been enjoying all Summer, i just want to find the nearest squirrel and punch it in the nose.

i am even doing the pollination bit with the feather, but the plants seem to keep producing strawberries even when i forget.

and the Little One has even more places to get into trouble now. i am going to pretend she is not sticking her tongue out at me. the nerve!

i want to blow this up to billboard-size, then plaster it on the exterior wall for the squirrel to see.

this was my first time growing strawberry plants, and i was not sure what i would do with them when the Summer was through. i know that strawberries grown in the ground can be covered up with a thick layer of hay/straw (hence the name straw-berry), and they usually bounce right back come Spring.

however, with strawberries in pots, there is simply not enough insulation in a container of soil to protect them from the worst of Winter (especially in a place like Canada), so people usually either wrap up those pots and store them in a garage or shed over Winter... or they just plan to buy new plants come Spring.

i really hate waste, and i enjoy the challenge of growing things, so i did a bit of googling, and it turns out to be pretty easy to keep strawberries as indoor plants over the Winter. the biggest concern is ultimately light. as long as they are getting enough light—and water, or course—they can be treated pretty much like you would any regular indoor plant, although a few site did stress not to keep them too near to a heat source.

i was sharing all of this with him, and i was so proud of myself for having taken the initiative to figure all of that out, when he proceeded to burst my bubble.

me: so i walked around the whole apartment, trying to find the most ideal spot where they would either get enough light from a South-facing window, or where we can rig up a plant light. but i also have to make sure they are warm, but not too hot. i weighed all the options and i am thinking maybe...
him: oh, i already decided that they're going on the shelf over the water heater.
me: that's what i was about to say.

and he did not even waste an hour of his life reading articles and watching You Tube videos from leading garden experts to come to that conclusion. i hate when he does stuff like that.

Jultember: bumblebee turf wars...

the up-side to insomnia is that i get to catch part of the day that i would otherwise sleep right through. i fed the cats and made myself a large cup of coffee then grabbed my camera to spend a bit of time out on the balcony before the daily drone of traffic commenced.

we live a stone's throw away from the local highway, and the main street that leads into the heart of downtown Montreal is right at the top of our block. as a result, the soundscape of most days is dominated by the not-too-distant sound of passing cars.

but it was still that quiet part of the morning, and i fully intended to enjoy it while it lasted. why do i look like i am about to rob a bank, you ask? allergies, i reply.

this meant having to remove said barrier and hold my breath every time i took a sip. hello.

we have arrived at the point in the season where one small phrase fills me with dread most days. high winds!

the middle of Canada is a vast, flat expanse in which you will find the occasional farm or a field full of grazing cows. what you will find the most of, however, is lots and lots and lots of weeds. [it should be noted that while i have never been to the Canadian prairies, i have seen every single episode of Corner Gas at least twice, so i feel fully qualified to make that statement.]

it is ragweed allergy season, and there is not a single mountain or even a tall hill between me and all of that histamine-inducing pollen blowing in from the prairies. and, no... i do not go out into the world looking like that, but it sometimes helps to have a filter between me and the world while waiting for my antihistamines to kick in. good times. i have a proper face mask for said purpose, but i seem to have lost sight of it in the reshuffling of furniture to make room for the plants.

speaking of which...

i am happy to say that the balcony garden project has returned to its intended setting.
 

i mostly stood by and watched while he lugged one ten-gallon container after another back through the sliding glass doors, and i am happy to report that there was only one injury. his toenail will regrow... eventually... i hope.

naturally, i was out there spraying everything with my homemade peppery concoction long before the squirrels got out of bed this morning. Baby Bear was most not pleased with said fact, as she kept shooting me dirty looks after she took a nibble at the ferns.

i just carried on taking sips of coffee in between trying to figure out how repair the (non-functioning) auto-focus feature on my go-to lens. there is a story in there somewhere, which i will save for some other day when i am done being frustrated with myself for that one.

it was then that i noticed that the Little One staring at something with a definite about-to-attack gleam in her eye.

it was a cute, fat bumblebee. here he is crawling into a snapdragon. so cute.

there is one solitary bee that seems to spend most of the sunlit part of the day going back and forth between all the flowering things out there, and i would like to think that it is the same one i see every time.

i can just imagine the adorable bumblebee turf wars as they decide who gets what territory, and i would like to think that he fought hard to claim my tiny garden as his zone. hopefully the other bees did not give him a hard time for not making his quota on the days when the plants were indoors.

oh... and i am calling him George. so cute. 

blame it on the bingo...

the crafting world is full of "alongs". that being, people making/doing the same thing at roughly the same time for some shared sense of support and community. i am a self-proclaimed curmudgeon, so i really hate "alongs". naturally.

the rest of the fiber-crafting community, however, absolutely loves this sort of thing. whether it is a new pattern by a popular designer, or a new colorway from a favorite hand-dyer of yarns, there is always an along to be had.

so, after many years of shaking my head dismissively at so many of these groups, it saddens me to announce that i am engaging in what will be the first (and likely last) along of my fiber-crafting life.

this came about as a challenge of sorts to stop being so much of a curmudgeon about... well... everything. and i chose this particular along because it had the most "do whatever the heck you want" rules of any i could find.

the good people over at the Wet Coast Wools (which is both a podcast on the You Tubes and a yarn shop in Vancouver) are hosting a year-long Bingo-along. that is correct. they have created a harmonious blend of knitting (or crocheting, if you are into that sort of thing)... and BINGO. yes, please!

i joked at first that i would enter it if only to have something to regret as the year went on, and it turns out that i was not wrong. it is now approaching the middle of July, and i have yet to cross a single square off of the bingo card. boy do i ever regret this decision.

seriously, it was less than two months in, and people were already asking if they could start working on a second bingo card. meanwhile, i have set myself the goal of completing one row, and i am already failing at that.

i have more than enough projects in various stages of doneness that could be finished up and applied to said effort, but that would require me to be motivated or concerned, and i definitely do not resemble either of those things at present.

i did manage to finish one small project that would qualify for the "make something for an animal" square on the bingo card. see it?

how about now?

it is shown here modeled by my middle-kitty, Philly, a) because she looks like the model-kitty in the pattern, and b) because the other two cats had sense enough to go into hiding when i was looking for a furry mannequin.

it is a cape-like garment that is designed to keep a cat (or similar sized dog) warm, which makes sense for the recently-shaved cat in the original pattern photos. my cat, however, is about seventy-five percent fur, so the last thing she needs is even more warmth.

and, no... i do not intend to make a habit of knitting clothing for my cats. this was a one-off item that i made one evening while trying to distract myself from how disgusted i feel these days by the world around me. it was a brand new pattern that had just been posted to Ravelry, and i could not stop laughing at the thought of trying to get one of my cats into something like that.

i can assure you that Philly was not happy about being chosen to be the model, and she absolutely refused to look at me while i was taking the photographs. such a diva.

for now, the sweater will live in one of the nooks on my wall display of yarn-filled cans.

if memory serves, it was pouring outside... and i was sipping on some craft beer... and he was listening to music of some kind. so, while i could choose to blame it on the rain, the alcohol, or the boogie, i am going to blame it on the bingo.