harvests

Today is Lammas, the traditional time to mark and celebrate our first harvest. Since it's been a little while again since I've posted, my first-harvest photos will begin a few months back. 

The orange tree/houseplant that we bring inside every winter and take back outside every spring produced two oranges in May. This is the largest of the two and true to its botany, there are ten sections. We were so happy she finally succeeded in ripening her first fruits after one and a half years of carrying them in her branches.

In May, lilac-infused water was made over and over.

In May, lilac-infused posset was made, a rich cream and honey dessert.

In June, mullein root, leaf and stalk tincture was made. When I learned that mullein is used for spinal conditions (in addition to its other more common uses), it only made sense when you think how tall and erect the mature plant stands.

 

In June, the iris bloomed -- one of my favorite displays of the month.

In June, a chicken coop and fenced-in run were delivered to our home in the middle of the city.

In June, two Barred Rocks and three Buff Orpingtons arrived.

They have changed my life forever.

In July, I made Monarda fistulosa leaf and flower tincture.

In July, lavender was dried.

In July, I remembered that I had made an egg basket about 25 years ago. That was a very long "build it and they will come," wasn't it?

In July, the chickens -- Margaret, Henna Penny, Lilith, Honey Moon and Cinco -- began to free-range in the evening until their bedtime. They always visit the Buddha garden first; it's so densely-planted they really can't cause much damage plus I already had wire cloches set up because of the rabbits.

I didn't know how much I wanted them until they came.

Which brings me to now -- to mark the harvest today, I am filling all my little green vases with flowers and herbs to put all over the house.

And making little incense bundles with Palo Santo wood, lavender, white sage and mullein.

August is the beginning of autumn and there is a definite shift in the light. The air seems to literally turn green and when I breath it in, I turn into a plant of the human kind.

Today, I wish you all the beauty and abundance you can contain. xo

full circle

I used my biggest mixing bowl as a template for the January moon and then basted it onto a well-worn white quilt. The quilt is the canvas for full circle, my 2016 moon stitch ritual. I am repairing the quilt here and there as well -- by the time all 13 moons have been sewn on, it will have been transformed into something totally different. It's still on the bed so when I work on it, I literally have to go back to bed. Sort of awkward but it's so big that leaving it there might be the best option.

One little Quilty 365 moon square from plant-dyed cotton each day is good medicine -- a small accomplishment that also calms and grounds me.

 It definitely looks like the year of the full circle.

I have been consumed with devising a new food plan for our two pups. Over the years, I've gone back and forth with various natural foods for them -- always ending up with what I had time for, which was high-quality dry kibble with a little fresh here and there. But with one turning 12 soon, I decided to venture back into a natural, mostly raw, diet for them. A calcium supplement is advised for the days without raw meaty bones and wouldn't you know, eggshells can be made into a good source of calcium (not just for dogs -- for the soil and people, too, although I have never taken it). Here's how.

Rinse out the inside of the eggshell, let dry and save in a jar until you have enough to make it worth turning the oven on. Bake the eggshells for 10 minutes at 300 degrees. When cool enough to handle, grind in a coffee/spice grinder until fine. One teaspoon is about 1800 milligrams of calcium.

I used this book as my guide.

Our two dogs can and do eat entire raw eggs, shells and all...just not every day. 

The grocery store had a deal on bouquets of eucalyptus and I immediately thought of Nat and India Flint and their success with using eucalyptus for dyeing and eco-printing. My experience has been the opposite, failure after failure. It must be our water. But this cotton has also been scoured, hope that makes a difference.

Eucalyptus is one of Earth's oldest healers. I wish I knew more about its many healing qualities, but not being native to my location I know very little about it aside from its antiseptic value and its ability to clear congestion. Even so, the ancient fragrance of eucalyptus awakens something deep within me. And I can almost remember...

heart cloth moonday

Today I'm softly stitching hearts on the black velveteen long-cloth -- it's at least four years old already, and it may take another four years to complete. Because there is nothing too serious going on here -- it's one of those pieces to turn to when everything else seems too hard.

It's a given that February is when one finally succumbs to one's urges and buys a few houseplants. That's a Prayer Plant, Maranta leuconeura, up there and I'm in love -- it magically folds itself up at night while it sleeps. Almost like a human curls into a fetal position.

The tulips were a lovely gift -- the bulbs sit on a screen at the base of a tall glass vase, then root and grow in water -- they can't really get very wonky like tulips always do because the vase is so tall. And the vase and screen can be reused to experiment with different kinds of bulbs which will be fun.

Week 5 of the Journal52 Project is television. I consider myself a moderate TV viewer. Everything in moderation. (I might still add the words including moderation by Oscar Wilde.) These pages are not meant to be works of art although it's hard not to over-think the process. I try to do them in a short period of time once I have the idea. Like maybe an hour or less of actual gluing and painting and doodling. Perfectionism is my worst enemy. Back to TV -- Downton Abbey is my favorite show right now. I'm worried we're getting close to the end of the season though because things have been building. But at the same time, several subplots were just resolved. So is it building or resolving? Whatever happens, it will be wonderful.

Today is a waning moonday in the sign of Libra. To feel steady and balanced as I move into the growing darkness, to fold up like the prayer plant, to sleep and dream...

xo

a moon-making moonday

I can hardly believe summer is starting to wind down but the signs are undeniable. The crickets are chirping and the locusts are buzzing. Potato vines are drying up and remind me it's time to harvest garlic. A murmuration of starlings has been hanging out in the trees in our back yard. And the blue jays are singing their pretty song instead of squawking. I love the way it all sounds and looks and feels.

Moon-making is a monthly full moon ritual for me -- this year I am stitching mandalas with home-dyed wool -- 13 moondalas. July's moondala is a flower-bouquet-dyed moon on a dandelion-dyed background. Inspiration for thread colors was all around but that scrap of cotton stayed close by whenever I stitched.

Dyeing with flower bouquets has been a nice way to extend their enjoyment -- those red, pink, yellow and white rose dye-bundles will help me remember the occasion and the people, as well.

Today is a waxing crescent moonday in Virgo. As the moon grows fuller each night, so too do our wishes and visions grow. Now at the beginning is when they sprout tiny roots and begin to stretch toward the light. Things usually need a little extra care and attention at this point.

And whispering "grow, grow" can only help, right? xx

moonday harvest

The moon on July's moondala is from a flower bouquet dye-bundle -- and the background is dandelion-dyed wool. I seem to be influenced by the calendar colors again, this has happened a few times before.

The dark-centered yellow flowers are dyer's coreopsis, Coreopsis tinctoria -- they're about 3' tall and ready to go to town as you can see. Hoping they self-seed, would love them to go wild.

Today is a waning crescent moonday in Gemini. In true Gemini style, many things are happening very fast -- there's so much going on in the world that I don't understand, I have no words. But here in this place where I live, I turn to the garden with these early harvests and to the dye-pot with its own special harvest, that of color. I feel myself finally sinking into summer and notice how the garden grows on its own with very little help from me. I basically water and weed and watch.  The garden reminds me that if any of my own plans or intentions haven't taken root to grow and thrive, they aren't likely to come to fruition either. Now is a good time for that kind of assessment. I pretty much know when a plant isn't going to make it or when I'm going against the grain on something but sometimes it takes a while to give up. To "give up" can actually be a good thing -- it's putting stuff into the cosmic mix to be changed, like composting.

And we all know the magic of good compost. xx

black magic moondala

Late-night stitching, constantly questioning color choices. I always do that -- this started with mostly red but didn't feel right. So I picked the red out and went with coral, magenta and violet instead. Really wondered at that point. But then it hit me that these are the colors on both a calendar page and a favorite scarf that I love so much. That explained everything and even helped my stitching to coalesce better and easier. Funny how that works.

April's moondala, #4 in my monthly sewing ritual, was made with a black-magic silk-dyed wool moon and some green tulip-dyed wool as the background. The vibe is a combination of lunar eclipse, pysanky, and bee swarm. That's a lot for one small  mandala to hold, but it's all there.

We have a new moon in Taurus today. This is an ideal time for new beginnings -- in a little while I'll draw oracle and tarot cards and think about what seeds to plant, both literal and figurative. It's windy here -- looking forward to being inside today. A knitting project is so close to being finished, so very close.

violet vinegar

Another little moondala is on its way. The black color held nicely -- it's been rinsed, dried and basted onto a greenish background cut from last month's tulip-dyed wool.

Did you know that the violet blossoms we see in the spring are not seed-bearing? That violet plants bloom again to bear seed? We don't see them unless we search because the seed-bearing violet blossoms don't have petals or a scent and are hidden under the leaves. What this means is that I/you/we can pick and enjoy petaled violet flowers with total abandon in the spring!

I made a small batch of fresh violet, Viola odorata, vinegar this morning -- Earth Day Violet Vinegar to be added one tablespoon per glass of water. I love a little herbal vinegar added to cool water when I'm really thirsty.

The viola species is considered anti-cancer, antiseptic, anti-fungal, anti-inflammatory and can act as a diuretic, a digestive, a heart tonic and a sedative. And this isn't all. There is a saying that an herbalist should know 40 uses for one plant rather than one use for each of 40 plants. This herbalist is sure there are at least 40 ways to use violets.

Earth Day Violet Vinegar
Fill any-size jar with violet flowers and leaves almost to the top, as firm as a fairy bed I was told. Fill again with apple cider vinegar. Cover with a piece of wax paper or plastic wrap and cap with a lid and ring. (The vinegar will corrode the metal on the lid.) Let steep in a cool dark place for 2-6 weeks, strain, and store in the cupboard. At this point it has been transformed into a medicinal violet vinegar rich in vitamins and minerals. I try to make my food my medicine so I either add a tablespoon to a glass of water or use it in recipes.

Even though the gardening season has only just begun, my sewing and knitting time has already dwindled and I don't want that to happen. Figuring this out.

And our bees swarmed last week, too. There was a happy ending, more on that later.