Spore Print.

I'd forgotten about spore prints until sitting through some mycology lectures this fall. The particular colour of the spores of each mushroom are, apparently, one of the major identifiers of different species. So neat. I'm going to hit the grocery store and pick up a bunch of button caps, Boletus.

This one's from up north, from the weekend.

Pollen grains.

Pollen from the back yard, from the large pink flowers of an unidentified plant, planted by the previous owners.

Bombus Ternarius.

Befriended some fuzzy tricolored bees this weekend, as they hovered between the purple asters in the swamp. I would like to move permanently to a swamp, my head now full of muddy dreams of marshes and reeds, sunbathing gar.

Hark! A Vagrant.

I'm infatuated with t-shirts! Very funny.

Antique linens.

Jeff's sister, Leah, gave me a bag full of their grandmother's antique hankies. I love every single delicate one of them but am not at all sure what I should do with them. I feel like they're too beautiful to cut up. It will take some storming, I think, to come up with an idea good enough to do these hankies any merit.

Last of the summer.

Being broke as usual, I was fairly delighted to find this 100% embroidered pure cotton on sale for 4 bucks a yard in Ottawa. Last week I had my last consecutive days off for the summer, so spent one of them making a dress. I'm very happy to declare that my one-dress-uniform is now but a bad (and slightly ragged) memory, having had the time to actually make myself some clothing recently (although this still needs hemming). And this one's a 6$ dress! My favourite kind.





Also. The Wind in the Willows coming quickly to and end, I've decided to start reading Cloud Atlas by Daivd Mitchell. I've browsed the first couple of pages, which seem really funny; and having finished my final history paper on Captain Cook's three circumnavigations, the first story of the series captured my attention:

"Thursday, 7th November-

Beyond the Indian hamlet, upon a forlorn strand, I happened on a trail of recent footprints. Through rotting kelp, sea cocoa-nuts & bamboo, the tracks led me to their maker, a White man, his trowzers & Pea-jacket rolled up, sporting a kempt beard & an outsized Beaver, shoveling & sifting the cindery sand with a teaspoon so intently that he noticed me only after I had hailed him from ten yards away. Thus it was, I made the acquaintance of Dr. Henry Goose, surgeon to the London nobility. His nationality was no surprise. If there be any eyrie so desolate, or isle so remote, that one may there resort unchallenged by an Englishman, 'tis not down on any map I ever saw.

Had the doctor misplaced anything on that dismal shore? Could I render assistance? Dr. Goose shook his head, knotted loose his 'kerchief & displayed its contents with clear pride. "Teeth, sir, are the enameled grails of the quest in hand. In days gone by this Arcadian strand was a cannibals' banqueting hall, yes, where the strong engorged themselves on the weak. The teeth, they spat out, as you or I would expel cherry stones. But these base molars, sir, shall be transmutated to gold & how? An artisan of Piccadilly who fashions denture sets for the nobility pays handsomely for human gnashers. Do you know the price a quarter pound will earn, sir?"

I confessed I did not.

"Nor shall I enlighen you, sir, for 'tis a professional secret!" He tapped his nose. "Mr. Ewing, are you acquainted with Marchioness Grace of Mayfair? No? The better for you, for she is a corpse in petticoats. Five years have passed since this harridan besmirched my name, yes, with imputations that resulted in my being blackballed from Society." Dr. Goose looked out to sea. "My peregrinations began in that dark hour."

I expressed sympathy with the doctor's plight.

"I thank you sir, I thank you, but these ivories"- he shook his 'kerchief- "are my angels of redemption. Permit me to elucidate. The Marchioness wears dental fixtures fashioned by the aforementioned doctor. Next yuletide, just as that scented She-Donkey is addressing her Ambassadors' Ball, I, Henry Goose, yes, I shall rise & declare to one & all that our hostess masticates with cannibals' gnashers! Sir Hubert will challenge me, predictably, 'Furnish your evidence,' that boor shall roar, 'or grant me satisfaction!' I shall declare, 'Evidence, Sir Hubert? Why, I gathered your mother's teeth myself from the spittoon of the South Pacific! Here, sir, here are some of their fellows!' & fling these very teeth into her tortoiseshell soup tureen & that, sir, that will grant me my satisfaction! The twittering wits will scald the icy Marchioness in their news sheets & by next season she shall be fortunate to receive an invitation to a Poorhouse Ball!"

In haste, I bade Henry Goose a good day. I fancy he is a Bedlamite."

The book is supposedly based on a babushka doll, each story leading to another until you reach the middle, then the end of each story is begun in similar fashion.

The Wind in the Willows.

I started reading The Wind in the Willows during the long train trip and am head over heels infatuated with all of its fuzzy little characters, especially Mole. Mole, who wipes away tears of sorrow after being forgiven for acting imprudently. I liked this bit:

"The line of the horizon was clear and hard against the sky, and in one particular quarter it showed black against a silvery climbing phosphorescence that grew and grew. At last, over the rim of the waiting earth the moon lifted with slow majesty till it swung clear of the horizon and rode off, free of moorings."

I spent a part of my trip immersed in the gardens and barnyards of the Experimental Farm. I sort of wish I had a fuzzy round belly, wiggled my toes when excited, and slept in a burrow too.

Gran's pants.

I love the idea of merkin knickers: a poof of billowy, bib-like, wig-like pizzaz along the front of these boxers. I think the French aristocracy would have approved. Who knows if anyone will buy them, however.

Oodles of undies, always more undies. Am trying to stockpile for Etsy for the school year when I will not have time to make any.

My one month off is swiftly coming to a close. I've been able to squish in a few trips out of the city, to Guelph, Georgian Bay, and to Ottawa. Have also managed to make myself some fall clothing and to stuff my Etsy page full of new frivolities, in the form of frilly knickers. 

I've been pretty effing scared about returning to school this year: finishing my B.Sc. in one year with two jobs plus volunteering. However I recently found the best podcast lecture series that I'm able to listen to at work, and thanks to it I've been excited enough about geology and environmental science that I'm almost willing to overlook my trepidation.

Holy cow, the Cambrian Explosion: what a neat subject. I also am a bit in love with extremophiles.

http://geology.mines.edu/courses/sygn101/podcast/

Have started making clothing for the fall, as I now have a bit of time off. Everything will be grey or brown, 'tis the plan.

Swamps.

Summer summer summer. Just returned from a few days away. Spent a lot of time immersed in various swamps in hipwaders, attempting in vain to befriend small animals. Spent my evenings enshrined in a fortress of wool blankets pretending to be a hobbit by moonlight.

And it fits!

And it even fits. Huzzah.

Summer dresses.

Summer dresses. Yay. Finally I can change out of my one-dress uniform.

Sweaters are being made (right front panel shown below), organic chemistry is making sense, the flowers are still out around Toronto. Lovely days, these. 

Have been a busy bee for many weeks, which are finally wrapping to an end; but now at my busiest I find I'm all spent with working 25 hours a day and just want to sew a little. Sold some knickers on Etsy for the first time in a while so made some more. Got excited wrapping them up and sending them off to England.



I will forever be attached to silk ribbons, no matter how hard I try to divorce myself from them.

One quilted circle complete!

I'm pleased to say that the quilting bits all fit together rather symmetrically and as a whole, it lies flat (but not on the uncut grass). 

Quilting bits.

All of my fabric has come in (thank you Etsy!) and I've organized my colours so that the circles in the Denyse Schmidt quilt I'm making go from pale yellow to pale pink. It doesn't seem too busy, and I'm pretty happy with what I have so far. Soon I will start painstakingly sewing all the trillion patches together to form 16 quarter circles, and then I will start to sew the larger quilt into blocks.

Wool Sweater: Plan G.5

After many revisions, I have finally decided on this sweater, rather than the other two. Mostly I changed my mind again because I realized (after purchasing $200 worth of wool) that the others called for crocheting, a skill I have never mastered.



Spent some time knitting this week, including a very easy and cute slip-stitch pattern for the body.

Rowan Sweater.

I really love Rowan knitting patterns. Sometimes it's hard to tell whether it's the photography that makes the garments look really good or the garments themselves that are so attractive, but in either case, after a few hours spent today in the wool store I finally selected one sweater to make. A hard decision, there are a number in this issue that I've become enamoured with. I decided on the Malt Sweater, but will leave out the flower top-stitching:



These two were close runners-up, and my final decision was based entirely on the availability of wool.

Homemade socks!

So beautiful! My mom has become a master sock maker.

OOhoohohoohoo! The pattern I bought showed up today, along with much more fabric! My fabric shelves are looking healthy once more. I'm not sure which I should try now, the rectangles or the Single Girl pattern. As I have my last ever history paper and two finals before I'll have time to really knuckle down, I suppose I can think on it for a while.

I've come up with a basic template that should work for this quilt. It's all rectangles, so I figure this will be the easiest template produce as a neophyte. The colours are a rough approximation.

I purchased more quilting fabric yesterday, so by the time the rest of the fabric I've ordered shows up, I'll have quite the collection. I don't think it will be possible to make an all-white quilt, there is a dearth of white and off-white quilting fabric in stores. It seems that my best chance will be to make a pastel quilt.

First attempts at quilting.

I've decide to learn to quilt. This is my first attempt, made with old rags and scraps of fabrics from my collection of materials. I've been thinking that making a quilt of very pale colours would be really becoming, perhaps going from white in the centre to very pale yellow or green at the corners. Until I figure out the larger design, I'll keep practicing the sewing itself. It's surprisngly difficult to get the fabric to lie flat once sewn together.