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hunting

It was a weekend of much outdoor adventure -- a weekend that reminds me of exactly why we chose to settle down in this corner of the world last fall.  Hours were spent cycling on a trail lined with trillium and waterfalls; paddling under the moon and stars, learning how to steer a canoe with 'J' and 'C' strokes; planting jack pine in hopes that reforestation efforts will outstep hungry deer; and combing the shore of the big lake for beach glass.  Had you told me on Thursday that I would have done these things with my family, I'd have not been surprised.  But had you told me I would hunt and then eat a meal of the fruits of these efforts, I would not have believed. 
 

With friends we set out to an area of the state forest that was clearcut five or six years ago in search of morels.   Meaty mushrooms that spring up in pine forests that have experienced crisis -- a clearcut, a forest fire.  A slow meander through raspberry, strawberry, thistle and other pioneering plants poking up between decomposing slash piles gave me a new appreciation for the landscape, the rejuvenative power of the earth, and the elusive morel.

a sense of wonder

Tonight, on our way back up from a walk by the lake, we saw a deer running down our block.  In the city!  Albeit a city with vast acres of undeveloped bedrock slope, but a city no less.  Of course this unfolded before me on the one evening I left my camera behind.  I suppose it's meant to remain one of those magical moments that isn't to be captured and held in a photograph, but rather a moment that is free to bound about in the mind, sometimes close crisp and clear, othertimes hazy enough to again evoke that initial wonder.  I'm hopeful the little guy had a safe return to the forest.

the crabapple knows

Opening up.
Standing tall.

Despite last weekend's snow, the crabapple in the community garden plot around the corner from our home is announcing spring.  I've enjoyed watching the seasons change with this tree.

sweetness

A common thread woven through these past few days has been creating sweetness without recipe or pattern, but instead through idea and inspiration.  This doesn't always work out in my favor, but tonight I'm quite pleased with the results. 
Taking cues from Hannah and Erin and a growing elastic thread craze, I made a shirred dress for the little one.  It ended up a bit on the short side, which of course prompted me to make up some matching pants. 

And with a bit of pastry left over from this weekend's rhubarb strawberry pie, I whipped up the littlest apple cardamom galette for tonight's dessert -- the wee bit of vanilla ice cream in the freezer certainly needed a free-form tart to melt into.

a year of color: yellow

In a matter of days we've lost all but one of the little miss' hats.  I'm fairly certain that while her parents aren't looking, she stuffs them into heating vents, under couches, or behind the books in the bookcases.  The remaining yellow sun hat somehow remained perched atop her head long enough for me to snap this photo, but if I had to translate the babble that went with the look, I'm certain she was telling me that there was not a chance that this hat would make it to the next sunny day. 

mother's day offerings

From the babe:  one of eighty-or-so pine cones found on the trail.

From my mother, last year, to honor her first daughter's first mother's day:  an antique mug found in rural Pennsylvania.

From the lake:  ladybugs and birch bark curls washed up on the shore.

Hoping you're all savoring memories of a lovely day.

inside and out

Outside we stroll and picnic on a new section of the Superior Hiking Trail with the littlest of hikers.

Inside (or at least back at home) packages are wrapped for mailing.  The bag is a modified ballerina bag from Celine Dupuy's book, and the crayon roll came to fruition thanks to this great tutorial by Skip To My Lou.

good tools

Last year, in a fit of third trimester induced must-sew-for-baby now, I ran out to a big box retailer under the cover of night to purchase a sewing machine.  I hadn't set foot in one of these superstores for years, as I knew the economic and social havoc that this business model was wreaking on mom and pop shops everywhere.  I knew better, but crazy-making hormones distorted any and all logical reasoning.  I quickly grabbed a machine that had lots of pretty stitches and schlepped  it home.  Oh how I've paid for this folly.  Let's just say I've spent more time with a seam ripper tearing out every imaginable tension issue than I have spent actually sewing.   

During a recent trip to the repair shop it occurred to me that I could buy a refurbished workhorse of a machine for just a bit more than it would cost me to fix the little plastic beast that was quickly turning me off to everything about sewing.  I gave an old reconditioned Necchi a whirl and haven't turned back.  I'm suddenly having fun piecing together wool felt for a crown to celebrate my niece's birthday.  And the satchel that a friend requested I sew up for her no longer feels like a chore, but rather an exciting puzzle of canvas, cotton and wool suiting.   Good tools make such a difference. 

stretched

Like the purple bands that hold together heads of broccoli from the co-op before finding home in a rubber band ball on our kitchen windowsill, I've been feeling stretched thin lately.  I didn't intend to take this little blogging break, but the day to day of family, work and creating have left me with little energy to dedicate to posting.  I'll be back in the coming days with some finished projects to share as well as some new ones that I'm eager to jump into -- including a spring skirt for me.  I won, yes WON (I never ever win things) an Amy Butler Barcelona Skirts pattern from Sew Mama Sew!  I think I'll have to order up some fabric from over there for the project.  I've had my eye on this yummy one for some time, but just discovered this lovely one.  I think two skirts might be in the works!