Halloween brings me deep and wonderful memories of my dad. This was his favorite time of year. We listened to this as we ate supper before heading out to trick or treat. May your evening be lit by candles and may your spirit be moved by memories. xo
stick season
Our lovely foliage season has come to an end. Any of the trees that had thoughts of prolonging their beauty were surreptitiously stripped of their leaves in an overnight windstorm. The view along the ridge went from spectacular to more muted, just like that! The next morning, the road crew installed the “whips”, or markers that guide the snowplows in white out conditions along the ridge.
The tenacious lilacs and oaks are some of the last to let go, and the squirrels are madly gathering acorns, chattering at the cats through the windows.
The Braintree Meeting House has been safely closed up and shuttered for the winter.
The milkweed pods have opened and their downy seed parachutes are sparking all over the meadows along the road. Dried ferns, grasses and wildflower heads create a different kind of beauty in the ditches.
Late afternoon sunshine filters through the forest and it is more beautiful than any stained glass you could find in a cathedral.
The sunsets…oh my, oh my…the sunsets.
It’s really about the light this time of year…How can we not detect the “thinning of the veil” between the real world and the world of the unknown? As the season shifts and so many cultures recognize the magic, can you sense it? I think of all of my beloveds who have passed from this world before me. I will light a candle and I’ll gather photos of those who have gone before me. I will write their names on paper, I will hold them close to my heart, I will remember them with love. I will thank them for the legacies they have left to me. Halloween. Samhain, el Día de los Muertos, All Soul’s Day…
Here’s a sneak peek at a piece I’m working on. I’m calling it “memory” and I’ve used fabric dyed by hand. Blue from indigo grown here in our gardens, mustard gold from dried marigolds sent to me by my cousin Kristen, who grew them in her gardens in New Mexico. A bit of an homage to the strands of marigolds that play such a beautiful part in the altars put together for Day of the Dead .
Some of the wild, heirloom apple trees are holding onto their fruit. The flock of wild turkeys continue their daily loop of the neighborhood, gorging on the fruit as it falls to the ground, a few apples at a time.
I’ve been brewing different teas as the season moves ahead…Black Currant Tea, Kukicha Twig Tea and Mineral Magic Tea (grown and blended not far from us.) Reading more often, under a down comforter, stretched out on the couch, after my early morning meditations. My friend Anne over at My Giant Strawberry recommended The Olive Farm and I read it in a flash…the next few in the series are on order from Thrift Books. Casting on a cowl, for the chilly days ahead. Thinking about washing the inside of the windows, after Batman washed some of them from outside. Making a list for the last outdoor Farmers Market up in Montpelier tomorrow. Noticing the sliver of a moon, hanging over the mountains across the way.
Focusing on the present moment. Breathing in deeply, filling my lungs with gratitude, exhaling slowly. Yes. This is the way forward.
What’s up with you, dearest reader? What are you noticing about the seasonal shifts? xo
a most extraordinary october
on the way to town.
turning left out of our driveway.
october blue.
a sentinel.
near peak colors, in the morning fog. first frost on the ground.
the hunter moon at our “bit of earth”.
small treasures.
on the road.
stormy day on the ridge.
corazón and wilma, rediscovering snuggles by the radiator.
old hay wagons at the neighbors.
spinach and other dark greens taking their place front and center in the kitchen.
free carpeting.
Friends, I am still feeling very pell mell!
October has been filled with joyous family news and fun. Sweet Matilda Catherine arrived safely in Detroit, to join her big sister Flora. We look forward to meeting her in November. My Mumsie celebrated her 90th birthday in Massachusetts. And wee Theo and his mama and papa came to visit us in Vermont! We even managed to get down to visit my Mumsie with Theo in tow. The grin on her face when we put her very first great grandson into her lap was something I will remember forever. So much love!
And my six week creative adventure, which I will write more about when it’s done, has really challenged me to make space for dreams. Even amidst such full days, I’ve had to show up for this commitment I made to myself. I really have been burning the candle at both ends. And the silver lining in all of this is that it's been “crowding out” time spent fretting about the news and all the things I have no control of.
We’ve been moving through the days of October and the subtle changes we see in the landscape as the foliage goes from peak to past peak and now into “stick season”. So much beauty as the light slants and becomes more gentle. The robins and jays have been feasting on the last of the crabapples, the wild turkeys have grazed in the apple orchard, and our neighbors down the road are in the midst of goat breeding season (kidding season in the spring will be such fun!) We’re taking down the screens, washing windows, putting the gardens to bed, getting the root cellar sorted…the human version of hibernation, I guess.
I do so wonder what you have been up to, dearest ones. Are you cooking into the season of soups and stews? Are you lighting candles at dinnertime as the sun sets earlier? Have you pulled out cozy bed linens? Or maybe like Kate over at Fox Lane, you are gearing up for growing things and opening windows!
Do, please, drop a note in the comments to let us know what is bringing you happiness these days. Finding happiness and joy these days seems countercultural. I say, bring it on! When we share lovely stories we cultivate courage and connection.
xo
enmeshed in the magic
yesterday, late afternoon, here at our “bit of earth”
rose hips gathered from the yard, with plenty left for the birds
a wreath for the breezeway’s sliding door. see “how to” here.
Oh me, oh my. This is a grand time to be in Vermont. Neighborhood cider pressings, bustling farmer’s markets, lovely days and chilly nights, the glowing Hunter moon, with hippie pumpkin bread baking in the oven (using pumpkins from the gardens here on the hill)…the Vermont Sheep and Wool Festival (last weekend, where I did not buy anything, but soaked in the inspiration), meditating in the dark as the sun comes up behind the ridge…so much to gobble up. And the colors…the exquisite colors give me a lump in my throat and make my eyes teary. There is something at work in this world that is so much bigger than any of us, dear friends. I’m not sure what it is, but I am humbled by it.
And because this is when I feel most alive and fully me, I’ve committed to a few new creative adventures. I’m a bit daunted and a lot excited about moving ahead. At the same time, I’m plugging away at my queue of existing projects. Pell mell. That’s how October feels each year. Like a kid who starts running downhill and is suddenly in the grip of gravity and can’t stop and squeals with delight. That’s me.
I do so wish you could be here, dearest ones. We could hold hands and run down our meadow together (or slide on a piece of cardboard, or just imagine the fun from a comfy chair.) Then we could come inside, drink some neighborhood pressed cider and chat about our hopes and dreams for our lives and for this wild world we’re living in. I would love that. xo
P.S. I did, just now, reply to your thoughtful comments on my last post. :-)
Pillows, books and a shift in the seasons
One day, way back in June, I spent the day in my studio, sewing new pillow covers for our sofa.
left: Katazone paste resist with indigo, created by a textile artist in Vermont. right: patchwork pillow made with my own homegrown indigo, dyed in my kitchen, shibori resist technique. center: dot pillow from IKEA.
large pillow, Ikat woven cotton. smaller pillow: raw silk
lumbar pillow: fabric from Skinny laMinx, printed in South Africa.
the back of the same pillow, sewn with the front placket of a worn out skirt.
Sometimes, my attention is caught by beautiful fabric. Sometimes I buy a bit, for “someday”. It’s so special that I tuck it away and avoid cutting into it. Well, friends, I’m realizing that “someday” is bumping up against the never ending force of time and I have decided that “now” is when to use these special bits.
The joy comes in pulling them out of the cupboard and remembering way back to when I purchased them. Each bit of fabric has a story. The IKAT I found on a trip to Northern California when Batman was attending a conference and we splurged on a companion ticket, leaving our four young kids in the care of my generous mother-in-law. I still remember the mustard fields, brilliant yellow blooms that carpeted the byways. The funky little fabric shop smelled of incense and had fabrics from around the world. Folkwear patterns sat atop the counter and I was energized by gorgeous sample dresses that helped me envision what was possible.
I found the Katazone fabric while wandering the back roads in Vermont, guided by an “Open Studios” map one Memorial Day weekend before we moved here. I had not yet begun my journey on natural dyeing, but I had caught the bug, and loved chatting with the artist. I cannot for the life of me remember her name, and I can’t seem to find her on the internet. Alas.
The Skinny laMinx fabric grabbed my attention while shopping at the now defunct Nido, which had been in an upstairs loft in Burlington. I still miss that beautifully curated shop, filled with fabric and yarns to make you drool. The simple graphic nature of this fabric makes me happy.
The raw silk was something I walked past several times while attending an annual quilt show in Katonah, NY. Not far from where we lived during out Connecticut days, the show was as well known for its vendors as it was for the stunning quilts that hung in the gymnasium. I finally decided that rather than regret that I had “resisted” buying the silk, I went back and bought a bit of it.
Certainly, these fabrics were splurges. Then they languished. But now, when I see them tossed on the couch these pillows make me smile. And I am so glad that these pillows and I sit squarely in the midst of “now”.
Here are a few shots of our early mornings on the hill. The sun actually comes up from the ridge across the road from us, in the east. As it comes up over the ridge, the light splatters itself across these hills to the west of us. This time of year, the sunrise plays with the growing colors of the foliage season and it becomes quite intoxicating.
And books! I promised you books!
Have you read The Dictionary of Lost Words? Oh, it is a gem. A sucker for historical fiction, I devoured it in just a few days.
And This Is How It Always Is was also a good read. There was a plot turn or two that seemed a tad contrived to me, but overall, this is really a wonderful, insightful book.
The Sweetness of Water, set in the time right after the American Civil War, inspired a lively discussion in my book club. I’m still letting bits of it percolate with me.
I borrowed The Natural Dyer via our library’s inter-library-loan program and it is a gem! I already own a few books about natural dyeing, but I love this one enough that I ordered my own copy from The Book Depository. Abigail’s aesthetic and process are very simple and inspirational…a lovely resource for beginners and seasoned dyers as well.
I was trying to find a local copy of Tracy Chevalier’s A Single Thread, to no avail, but I did find a used copy of her Remarkable Creatures at Bear Pond Books in Montpelier. (I love to shop there, the wooden floor boards squeak and their “staff picks” are very compelling.) I’m about halfway through and look forward to crawling into bed with it again tonight.
WHAT ARE YOU READING, dearest ones? Please drop a note in the comments below to share your ideas.
I’m so sad to see September come to a close. We had frost on the lawn here this morning when we woke up…But…OCTOBER STARTS TOMORROW! It’s my very favorite month of the year and I will be here at sew and sow life with pictures of Vermont aflame, in all her glory. You may find it hard to resist her call to center your spirit, and celebrate her magic. xo
September's abundance
sunflowers at the fair.
One of Vermont’s “top 10 time-honored events” celebrated its 150th anniversary this past weekend. Batman and I were so happy to get back to the Tunbridge World’s Fair after two years away due to the pandemic. We love wandering the barns, filled with 4-H families, camping out with their beloved animals. We watched the little kids drive their teams of working cattle, we saw the sweet dairy calves snugged up in their stalls, waiting to walk into the judging ring. There were crowd favorites, to be sure, kids sprung from multi-generational families of farmers on the back roads of this rural state. And there’s the midway, filled with once-a-year carnival rides, plenty of junk food and games of chance. There’s also a section of the fairgrounds dedicated to keeping Vermont’s history alive with demonstrations of steam-run log splitters and corn huskers. There’s a barn full of antique horse-drawn sleighs and carriages. Then there’s the garden produce and baked goods that flash their prize ribbons, and the quilt and photography exhibits. School kids can submit gourd people, stuck together with toothpicks, and they are sure to make us smile. And the best part of the day? A maple creemee from the maple house over near the horse ring.
We finally had some prolonged rain in the forecast and so we did some harvesting. Onions, carrots and beets, (above), nearly ready for the root cellar. Batman also gathered a bucket of our Honey Crisp apples that have been a long time coming. The tree had a rough start, but is thriving now. The first crunch into these beauties says “autumn” to me. Our Liberty apples did not do so well this year. And the apples from our heirloom trees, that came with the property, will be pressed into cider in a few weeks at a neighborhood party.
I cut the sunflowers and put them in a tall vase out on the porch by the front door. The jays and squirrels were beginning to make them flop over. Once their beauty on the porch has faded, I’ll let those critters have a feast on the seeds.
The purple asters are blooming and the ferns are turning brown and gold and nodding to the ground. The wildflowers in the meadow are standing bravely til the first frost, which is due in the next week or so. The tomatoes have slowed way down, but I have one more BLT in mind. :-)
I harvested my tansies (above) yesterday and filled a dye pot with their sunny color. Cotton fabric is still soaking. (I like to give the fabric about 24 hours before I pull it from the vat…it is so hard to be patient!)
Saturday morning found me gathering with the board of directors of an anti-poverty NFP board that I serve on. We sat in real life together for the first time since March 2020. I got teary-eyed when I walked into our meeting room and saw all of my kindred spirits. It was a very productive retreat and reminded me that there are so many good people, trying to better the world…here in Vermont, in New England, in this nation, in this world.
Have you read the story about Yvon Chouninard? Oh my goodness…talk about good guys…this will lift your spirits!
I hope you, dearest readers, have found some respite here at sew and sow life. I think I’ll be back soon with some book talk and pillows and inspiration. Until then…don’t forget to breathe deeply, in and out. Relax your shoulders, look up at the sky, and know that I hold thoughts of you close to my heart. xo
another acceptance!
Off-white linen blend fabric, homegrown indigo/hand dyed on linen, commercial fabric scraps, Sashiko thread, cotton quilt batting, unbleached muslin on back.
CLARA MARTIN CENTER ART AND POETRY SHOW 2022… “Stronger Together”
Karen Lowry Reed’s Artist’s Statement for “We Drew a Circle”
I first came upon Edwin Markham’s piece “Outwitted” as a young person. It has stayed with me all these years because Markham’s message is timeless.
He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him in.”
As we are all navigating a more and more divided America, I have thought a lot about how we shut one another out and how we may find ways to pull back together. It seems an impossible task on some days, and an opportunity for creative thinking on other days.
Whenever I sit with fabric and a spark of inspiration I am filled with hope. Sewing this piece reminded me that we are indeed stronger together, if only we are willing to keep drawing wider and wider circles that pull more and more of us into love and compassion and generosity.
Two recent submissions…two acceptances…risk taking going well so far. But I still get so nervous while I wait to hear!
I know these are two small town venues, where generosity of spirit is extended to applicants. And I think that’s charming and probably why I gave then a try. But still, I’m kinda chuffed. :-)
Have you tried anything outside of your comfort zone lately? If so, how did it feel? Or maybe you don’t have capacity for risk taking right now…sending hugs wherever you are in the grand scheme of life!
xo
two recent projects
“September Meadow”
details: birch bits, French knots, machine “matchstick” quilting.
I just submitted this piece (using my NEWLY dyed fabrics) for a call to artists here. I should be hearing back in a day or two about its fate. I am determined to keep sending my work out into the world to see what will happen. Part of my plan for my 66th year on this planet is risk taking, so here we are. :-)
September 10, 2021
The day after Hannah and Loren’s wedding I gathered up a bunch of flowers from bouquets and table arrangements. I brought them home to Vermont in jars of water tucked carefully into the cab of the pickup. Wilma and I trimmed them and put them in my flower press. I remembered to give the screws a twist now and then.
A few weeks ago, I took the press apart and made this arrangement and sent it to Loren and Hannah for their first anniversary.
I remember making pressed flower projects with my beloved Great Aunt Margretta when I was a kid. I’m still at it. Call me sentimental. :-)
As the sugar maples along the road begin to flash bits of red and orange, I can feel my creative energy rising and I see inspiration everywhere I go.
We can hardly keep up with the San Marzano tomatoes ripening in the hoop house. Batman is making the most fragrant pasta sauce with the tomatoes and garlic, onions and basil from the raised beds. The sun gold cherry tomatoes have found their way into this recipe , it’s simple and fabulous! (It has beans in it, Noel!!!)
We had special house guests this weekend and we crafted a dinner made nearly exclusively with Vermont ingredients. It was such fun to showcase our garden’s and our state’s bounty.
And did you see the harvest moon?!?! It was the most gorgeous orange as it rose over the ridge. I woke up in the middle of the night when the coyotes began to sing. I got up to look out the window and saw that a lovely fog had settled in the valley, looking like a lake between the ridges. The moon was reflected in our neighbor’s pond and I was a bit overcome by the beauty. These are the moments to hold on to, to come back to when we need a dose of calm. Exhale….
Sending love to each of you, dearest readers. Know that I am here, ready to share the next bit of inspiration with you soon. xo
Black Hopi Dye Sunflowers
Black Hopi Dye Sunflowers growing at our bit of earth in Central VT. September 2021.
Harvesting the flower heads, late October 2021.
Flower heads drying on the three season porch, November 2021.
Top: Vintage raw silk, dyed with indigo.
Middle: Cotton dyed with Hopi Black Dye Sunflowers.
Bottom: Cotton dyed with dried marigolds.
September 2022.
The rainbow of hand dyed fabrics grows…with colors from the plants here on the hill. Except…the marigolds grown in New Mexico by my cousin and friend Kristen. She and her partner grew and dried the blossoms and sent a bag full for me to play with. The flowers produced a darker, deeper gold than the marigolds I used from our place here in Vermont last year. These gorgeous variations are all part of the magic of different locations, soil conditions, water quality and other variables. We do what can as dyers and then we have to step aside and let Mother Nature stir the pot.
I’m scheming different ways to use these fabrics…let me know if you have ideas or suggestions in the comments below!
xo
vintage raw silk and fresh indigo...
persicaria tinctoria or Japanese Indigo, growing at our “bit of earth” in Central Vermont
A bundle of indigo, waiting to have the leaves stripped from the stems. Early this morning. It was 45 degrees! I wore woolen socks with my gardening clogs!
Here you can see the blue pigment where one of the leaves was bruised.
I could not resist stripping the leaves outdoors on the picnic table in the September sunshine. Piping hot Darjeeling in my thermos.
One pound of indigo leaves and fresh water blended together. Ready for one pound of fabric!
The pre-soaked raw silk, after three alternating dips in the dye pot and rests in the air…time for a soapy rinse. That color just blows my mind.
After rinsing and hanging to dry in the woodshed, the color has subdued, but is still delicious!
Due to supply chain issues, I was unable to get a fresh package of Spectralite, something I use when I dye with indigo in a heated bath. Today’s new-to-me method was a cinch and I love the results.
There is much to know about dyeing fabric. There are so many beautiful books on store shelves these days, and the internet has plenty of information too. But the more I learn, the more I realize I don’t know!
Protein fibers (wool, silk, etc.) and cellulose fibers (cotton, linen, hemp, etc.) require different preparations before dyeing…different scours, mordants, baths and rinses. There is so much to keep track of that most dyers keep notebooks filled with their choices. (You can see a peek at mine, here) I’ve been a bit reticent this summer to do a lot of dyeing, because sadly, it does require a good bit of rinsing with fresh water and I worry about the drought conditions we are in. Recently we have had a bit of rain (tho not really enough), so I went ahead with a few projects.
One of the joys of my life is watching the magic as dye stuffs we have grown in the ground here at our “bit of earth” turns plain white fabric into colorful testaments to Mother Nature.
May each of you find joy and hope amidst this long weekend as summer slips into autumn. Drop a note in the comments below…will you picnic? Will you hike? Will you read, bake, visit, volunteer…? Let us know! xo