slowly she turned

Living the Slow life in North Carolina

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  • Saturday morning coffee pot post

    I really should be packing, or making paper, or both. I have plenty of time, because I made plans to meet my Hampton roomie around 4:30 this afternoon, and it’s about a five hour drive with bathroom stops. Oh yeah, I’m going to Art & Soul today. Tomorrow, I’m taking “Revival: Restoration to a Visual Life; An Awakening,” which, in all honesty, I’d never take just looking at the title, but I’ve taken a short class from Traci Bunkers and she is more fun than the title implies. Basically it is about techniques in altering old books.

    I’m considering taking a walk on the nearby beach on Sunday evening.

    Monday, I’m taking “Longstitch Variations” from Chrissie Hines. This looks like it will be covered in Traci’s class too, so it will be interesting to compare the two instructor’s bookbinding techniques. Then I’m driving back Monday night. Not looking forward to driving in that area’s rush hour, having experienced it before, but at least today’s traffic should be better.

    Anyway, I have some paper soaking that I need to at least blend into some pulp and refrigerate before I go, otherwise it will ferment by the time I get back. And I need to spend some time just listening to the birds on the deck. And get my portfolio ready to turn in on Tuesday morning for my woodcut class, since I just now realized that this will be my only chance to do it! Uh-oh.

    Oh well, this is all fine. I’m just grateful that this week, during which I have been headachy, sleep-deprived, and extremely irritable, is over, and that I managed not to get a sinus infection before the retreat!

    Better go now!

  • Races with Mosquitoes, or Nature abhors a vacuum

    I’ve decided that my Indian name would be Races with Mosquitoes. The heat has arrived. I didn’t get as much done in the Back Forty during the winter months as usual due to my hip problems.

    I’ve spent the morning ripping out ground ivy, my mortal enemy. I’ve noticed a few things about this pretty ground cover that I hate so much. One, it attracts bees at a time of year when I have little else in flower. Two, earthworms seem to adore it. I have seen some of the biggest earthworms ever coming out from where I just ripped out some ground ivy roots. If it wasn’t for high school biology, I might have mistaken some for small snakes. And as far as I know, it might just be better for my plants to leave it. I don’t know how many nutrients it takes from the soil and it is shallow-rooted.

    As far as I’m concerned, however, one overriding reason fuels my hatred of this stuff. Mosquitoes love it. They breed in the moisture beneath those lovely leaves and flowers.

    In permaculture, you observe the relationships between plants and other plants and animals, and you try to enhance the relationships that work. And you have to remember that if you remove a part of the natural landscape, something will come in to fill that niche.

    For the Back Forty, it was ground ivy. We got rid of the grass, and mulched the permaculture way, with newspaper and cardboard. Turns out that ground ivy LOVES this way of mulching. It thrives on the old logs and wood chips I use in my paths. It will survive having cardboard layering over it by running, white and pale as a cave creature, under the cardboard under it finds a hole or edge. Then it rises gasping to the surface, and takes nourishment from all that mulch, and runs rampant over all my hard work.

    God, how I hate this beautiful plant. I saw my first mosquito today. My race is coming to an end soon, and the ground ivy will have its victory, partnered with those nasty West Nile virus-carrying Asian Tiger mosquitoes. I will have fought the good fight though, and there will be less of them than there would have been if I had let the ground ivy have its way.

  • Butterbeans in the ground

    It’s been a great day. I planted the rest of the parsley, although I found so many volunteers from last year’s plants that I let go to seed that I needn’t have bothered. Needn’t. You can tell I read a lot. People where I come from don’t say words like “needn’t” or “shall” or “shan’t.” Guess that’s one reason I got picked on when I was a kid. I blame British literature.

    I also planted all my saved heirloom lima beans – those would be “Willow” (white), Loudermilk” (black and white speckled), and “Red Calico.” I can’t be sure that there aren’t any “Carolina Sieva” mixed in with the “Willow,” which would be a real shame if I cared more about preserving the variety. I don’t have the space to do it right so I just have fun with it. A few “Jacob’s Cattle” shell beans too, just because they got into the bag by mistake. And there were a few big brown mystery limas. I hope that these will lead me to that goose that lays the golden eggs. Tomorrow Sandy and I will plant most of the tomatoes.

    Today we went to the Liberty Antiques Festival, where we mostly spent our money on a funnel cake and fresh squeezed lemonade. Sandy bought a new broom from the Lion’s Club and I spent $3 on books. I purposely left my credit card and checkbook at home and only took a small amount of cash since I’ve saving my money to spend in Alaska. I saw a flute for $30 that I probably would have bought if I had brought the cash, so I’m glad that I did that. I don’t need a flute. Sandy has the music bug right now and we looked at every musical instrument that we saw. But we didn’t get through half of the tents because it was really hot and my back was hurting. I don’t think that we have ever gotten through all the tents.

    I was happy with the books. Two were French textbooks of sorts – one is fantastic and has great illustrations and some music published in 1891. The other is all French folk songs from 1911. The third book was lucky – the very first one I picked up was on relief printing, etching, and bookbinding from the 1940s.

    I really think that I missed my calling as a book collector and trader sometimes. But I can’t imagine how you can learn so much in order to know what you’re doing.

    I didn’t get by either the Farmers Market or Deep Roots Taste Fair. I wish that I had organized my day better. But it was wonderful to take a nap at 4:00 and to sit outside in the warm breezy shade and watch and listen to the birds all around. I wove for a little while, and read a novel, and put some torn up paper in a pot to soak for papermaking tomorrow. Now I have a lasagna in the oven. Life is pretty doggone good.

  • Sunday sweep

    Happy Eoster, all y’all li’l bunnies out there.

    I went to see my mama on Friday, helped her plant about a third of her garden: cabbage, onions, tendergreens, spinach, beets, carrots, and corn. I talked her into letting me plant way more beets than she needs so that I might have some. As you can see, her garden is much different than mine, and much, much bigger. My brother plows it with a tractor. It’s right smack in the middle of beautiful downtown Marietta, N.C. I had three dogs run up to me for loving, and I only knew one of them. She fed me field peas and okra and chicken tetrazzini and squash casserole and blueberry muffins, and sent me home with pecan pie, more pecans, and venison from the freezer.

    Thing is, my bursitis is back with a vengance, leaving me with the pain dilemma – do I work through the pain and make the whole thing worse, or let the garden go for a while longer. Last weekend I pulled out a lot of my rosemary and made a lot more room for my beans, but it was with a price. Anyway, I did plant some dill, parsley, carrots, spinach, and tendergreens today.

    There’s a robin building a nest on top of the gutter next to the back door.

    I’m very, very excited about our vacation plan for July. We have decided to take a cruise from Vancouver up along the Alaskan coast on Norwegian. I think that we found a very good deal and I’m going to call and arrange everything tomorrow. Most of this will be paid for with the money we got back when we refinanced and our tax refund.

    I’ve been thinking about the Pacific Northwest for quite some time, especially since I met an artist from near Juneau and saw her work based on the landscapes around her. I hope that we can add one night in Vancouver before the cruise.

    Tonight’s dinner is beef stew in the crock pot. It smells extremely delicious!

  • Random weave basket

    Here’s something that you can do with only two hands and a bunch of honeysuckle vines.

  • Saturday morning coffee pot post

    I did something last night that I don’t do very often – I went out for drinks with a friend. It was fun and we decided to do it the first Friday night of each month. We started at the Rhino, where a scuzzy old coot decided that he might have a chance at hitting on me, and quickly moved to McCoul’s, where I’ve always enjoyed the upstairs bar, and they have really good beers. I had my first Irish Car Bomb, which is Guinness and Irish whiskey with a shot (glass and all) of Bailey’s dropped into it. Then you have to drink it all down at once. Whew. I didn’t really understand that when I ordered it, but it wasn’t too hard. Anyway, since all this happened between 5-7 pm I was hungover by midnight.

    As far as my “manifesto” goes (I like that term better, thanks Lauren), I’ve been looking at travel deals on Orbitz, and discovered that round trip fares to San Francisco are dirt cheap right now. Sandy and I are talking about flying out there and spending a week together. We would have fun – Sandy and I are at our best when we travel because we enjoy mostly the same activities. I’m still looking at other options. We got back over a thousand dollars from the refinancing closing so it is in my money market account, earmarked for travel.

    I also discovered that by honestly giving myself permission to let the housework go without guilt, I actually have wanted to do some clean up. The house is still trashed, but it’s not a source of stress.

    Probably the biggest thing that happened, although it had been coming for some time, is that I totally quit the board of our Slow Food chapter. I took my email address off all the leadership emails and listserv admins (except Slow Food NC, which pretty much runs itself and I’m a back up admin anyway). I let the leader know when the web site account was paid up to, so that they can plan to move it or have me transfer the account. I no longer have any responsibility at all on that front. It had to happen that way for me to let it go and let them run it the way they want to do it. And it was the right thing to do because I feel SO MUCH BETTER.

    The trip to Spannocchia with Susanne and John will probably be moved to June of next year, a much easier time for me to take off. If that doesn’t happen, Anne-Marie wants me to go with her and her nutrition students to another farm in Tuscany. I have a separate fund that I’m saving money for either of these trips. I just hope that the flights stay cheap to Italy.

    This morning Sandy and his friend are going to crawl under the house and see what can be done about the sinking foundation and all the crap underneath the bathroom that stopped the last carpenter from finishing the job of supporting it.

    I’m going to enjoy the Back Forty, do a little more planting, fertilizing, weeding, and mulching, and work on color studies for my woodcut class. At some point, if I feel like it, I’m going to clean the floors. Or weave. Those two things have equal importance to me these days.

    And go to Deep Roots Market. Today is Owner’s Day, which means I get 10% off anything that isn’t on sale. I get a 5% discount once a month on everything, so I’ll use that too and stock up on some things.

    Right now it’s time to go to Greensboro Farmers’ Curb Market. It’s going to be a wonderful weekend.

  • Back Forty update

    We’ve had lots of rain over the past few weeks. In between the periods of rain I’ve transplanted volunteer foxgloves into beds that aren’t as sunny, one beside Miss Peanut and several under the oak tree. I look forward to them blooming this year because they have become one of my favorite flowers.

    Also I mulched a new path and lined it with the few logs left over from this winter’s pile.

    All the lettuce except for the Red Sails under one of the cages disappeared. Likewise all the chard and some of the broccoli and some of the kale. Obviously I need to protect these seedlings and usually I do. I didn’t do my tunnels or greenhouse this winter because of my physical problems, and I threw out the ripped up dirty Agribon fabric in a cleaning fit and didn’t buy more. Lesson learned.

    This weekend should be lovely weather and I’ll try to remember to fertilize and mulch with my compost. And plant carrots, lettuce, golden chard, and parsley. More peas.

    My pepper seeds are just now coming up. I was just about to give up.

  • Back Forty update

    We’ve had lots of rain over the past few weeks. In between the periods of rain I’ve transplanted volunteer foxgloves into beds that aren’t as sunny, one beside Miss Peanut and several under the oak tree. I look forward to them blooming this year because they have become one of my favorite flowers.

    Also I mulched a new path and lined it with the few logs left over from this winter’s pile.

    All the lettuce except for the Red Sails under one of the cages disappeared. Likewise all the chard and some of the broccoli and some of the kale. Obviously I need to protect these seedlings and usually I do. I didn’t do my tunnels or greenhouse this winter because of my physical problems, and I threw out the ripped up dirty Agribon fabric in a cleaning fit and didn’t buy more. Lesson learned.

    This weekend should be lovely weather and I’ll try to remember to fertilize and mulch with my compost. And plant carrots, lettuce, golden chard, and parsley. More peas.

    My pepper seeds are just now coming up. I was just about to give up.

  • Latest woodcut prints

    Woodcut print from a photo of a window at Spannocchia, near Siena, Italy. I am still reworking this one. I’ll change the areas on the sides of the window and probably do a multicolor print.

    In this woodcut print I was experimenting with raising the natural grain in the background by rubbing between the lines of the grain. I did a lot of these and feel rather ambivalent about the results.

    I learned a lot from these two.

  • Because I can

    Ever since I was a child I have been fascinated with stories of living off the land, self-sufficiency, making things from scratch. Then I hit puberty and I was distracted by trying to find a mate, drowning my depression and anxiety in alcohol, and trying to make my parents proud of me by attempting to be like other people. I never could achieve the third one because it just wasn’t in me to conform.

    Recently I talked with an old high school buddy who laughed that I always had to be doing something different. I thought a lot about that. It’s true. I had to be an actress, not a writer or an artist, where my real creative talents lay. Not only that, I had to be a mime for a while.

    Then I couldn’t knit or crochet or needlepoint, something that you could take with you and that everyone was familiar with. No, I had to be a weaver. Not only that, I had to be a tapestry weaver or do complicated dye techniques.

    I couldn’t just throw a pot. I had to hand-build and make pinch pots while meditating and drawing the energy up from the earth. I considered digging my own clay, but I stopped doing ceramics because my hands couldn’t take it.

    I have gathered loads of vines, stalks, twigs and cattails. I have handwoven baskets all over the place. It wouldn’t do to buy a basket. I make my own hats.

    Now I can’t be a painter. I have to be a printmaker. I have to do woodcuts. Because, think about it. How many woodcut artists are there out there? Will I start chopping down my own trees soon?

    I’m making books, but I’m not satisfied to buy paper for the pages. Even fancy handmade paper. I have to make my paper myself, and gather the fibers myself. And grow the fibers myself.

    It amazes me that I never decided to raise sheep or grow flax and cotton because it wasn’t enough for me just to weave, I had to raise and spin the fiber. If I hadn’t been humiliated in costume shop, I’d probably be sewing all my own clothes.

    Believe it or not, it is so obvious that I had to be different, but it never really struck me how much until my friend said that.

    One way I am different is that I chose to be childless. Anyone who has made this choice for whatever reason can tell you that you are pretty much suspect among “normal” society. Most people assume that you don’t have children because you can’t. Which is fine, because it’s just not something that I’d ever have even thought twice about, so I don’t care what opinions folks form of my childlessness. I assume that it makes no difference to them either. Except as I got older, I slowly learned that to some people, it colors their opinion of you in a negative way. One way you can tell is that they will start telling you how it’s okay for you not to be a parent. But I never considered that it would not be okay for me not to be a parent.

    Well, here I am, 48 years old, not many eggs left in the old uterus. I’ll be happy when that last one is gone, let me tell you. And I am happy, so happy, that I don’t have to pretend to enjoy being a mother the way that my mother did, or deal with totally fucked up grown children who can’t take care of themselves. Or experience the loss of a child, since I can barely deal with the loss of a cat. Guess what, I get to be selfish, because I didn’t have children. Yes, I do.

    So I’ve decided to throw my heart to the winds and travel as much as I can. No storing up acorns for me. I’m going to be the grasshopper, not the ant. I had a beautiful, wise young friend who went to bed happy and healthy one night and didn’t live to see the sun come up. My friend John did everything right and was struck down in a flash by a rare disease. Yes, by God, I’m going to suck the marrow out of life and not die and discover that I had not lived.

    I like being different. And guess what else? I don’t think that I’m going to cook for the foreseeable future. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of housecleaning too. Let the rooms fill halfway to the ceiling with cat hair.

    My car won’t start. But I don’t need it. I don’t think that I’ll fix it. I’ll get some baskets for my bike and ride the bus and catch rides. I’ll drive the Honda on the weekend and on long trips. We don’t need two cars.

    I’ll keep working because I need to pay bills and pay for my travel expenses. And art supplies. And good coffee. And beer. And books.

    I’m going to be a free spirit. Because I can.