All hands

So much inspiration everywhere. 

I cleaned out the River Basket and found a few UFOs that I barely recognized. A few that only need finishing touches.

The base is a piece of that modern, super-light linen. The pieces that fall into place as I cut and bend them to my will, damask. All of it dyed over this wonderful, one-of-a-kind summer.

The stitching is helping me find balance. A groove and an anchor in the face of changes. 

 

Carving out time

I knew it would happen. I fell victim to @brediculousyarns from Instagram. This is "Interstellar". Her colorways are a lot like mine.

"Fiber: 75% Superwash Merino / 25% Nylon
Knitting Gauge: 7-8 sts = 1" on #1-3 Knitting Needles
Hook Size: B1 - E4"

All of that is greek to me. I think a sheep was involved early on. Everyone knits fabulous socks and sweaters. I will settle for crocheting a pair of mittens but I have a sneaking suspicion this ball will only yield one.

It was warm and muggy so I took a book out on the deck. Instead of reading, I spent time weeding all the deck pots and hilling up some fresh dirt around the old Mother Thyme and Lavender.  Wrapped a few stems together for spellwork, maybe. Chasing mosquitos is more likely.

Little unknown seedlings have sprouted in all of the pots. No clue what they might be so I left them. If they make it through the winter, more power. If not, more compost. 

I ordered a bunch of perennial seeds from Baker Heirloom today. Now to find a half-ton of chicken shit and a few pounds of clover seeds. 

The book is very good, but it's making me nervous about the two trees that we left standing. 

I'm not even certain of their species and I'm doing weird shit to the soil over their roots, planting flowers where nothing grew but briars and ivy. 

The arrogance.

Threadbare

There are just ten Dirty Thread sets left in the shop. They are pretty green-heavy,  but I have other foursomes set aside to be included in cloth bundles in a wider range of colors that will be as random as I can make them. I have to keep from peeking in that basket because it gives me itchy fingers.

We are poised for change.

 

Halloween

First things first. In and out, my ballot was cast in under ten minutes.

Then on with the business of the day. 1. Find a pumpkin to carve and get some dry firewood for the firepit. Between Ace Hardware and Publix, mission accomplished.

 

We waited for Charlie to get home to carve the pumpkin. I wielded the blade, and he spooned out pumpkin guts.

We put all the guts and seeds up on the woodpile with the cosmos. Maybe a wicked pumpkin patch next year!

I have not lost my touch. Freehanded and no blood!

It was my job to sit by the campfire and hand out candy to those brave enough to cross the dark lawn and engage at a house with a ten-year reputation as a place to NOT stop on Halloween. 

While Jake, Missy and Charlie toured the neighborhood with another band of beggars, I saw fifty to sixty kids between sunset and nine.

As time passed, the tricksters got older. 

Jake doused the fire and we decamped. 

This was the first time since the boys stopped trick or treating that I participated and had a good time.

The cosmos

 

This is the view from my kitchen window. The woodchip pile never got completely spread. Back in the spring, I waited for a rainy day and broadcast a bag of sketchy wildflower seeds that I picked up at Home Depot.

I knew it was a crapshoot whether anything at all would grow - there was no soil, per se, just some slightly decomposed wood chips. 

Now, these flowers tower over my head and have been riot central for butterflies and bees all summer. Even now. The view from the street is ugly. My mission is to rid the area of stubborn shrubs and ivy (English and poison) and get a healthy variety of native wildflowers a better chance next year. These are Cosmos Sulphureus according to someone in a FB group I look in on. 

I asked this group for advice about flowers that reseed themselves and thrive on neglect. I got the most amazing help and information. (I had to look up "yeeted" and a lot of other stuff! This is from a Weed Wizard:

"What we have here is the cutting-edge in soil science: A well-aerated static compost pile made of high carbon materials where a diversity of seeds has been yeeted upon it such that it has become covered with a diversity of photosynthesizing plants

Could the diversity of the high-carbon materials have been increased dramatically? Yes. Could the moisture level have been maintained better than complete neglect? Yes. Could the plants have been specifically chosen for the functions they perform, Yes? But did the plants grow? They did. Are there places where moisture and oxygen remain consistent? There are. That is some primo biology right there. Are there places like that that also enjoyed the continuous living root of a photosynthesizing host plant and its root exudates? Yes, there most certainly are places like that. Are there places like that that enjoyed the continuous exudation of a diversity of roots from different plant families intermingling? Maybe even so. Will any evergreens or living winter cover provide exudates that keep communities of exudate-dependent microbes and their symbionts thriving in populations high enough to bounce back quickly and mightily in early spring? They will!   I second Donna's suggestion to introduce nitrogen to your compost pile with clover and its associated rhyzobia bacteria seed inoculant."

The whole group offered links to companies that sell native seeds just for zone 8B and other great resources.

I'm contemplating adding a little hidden pond in the middle.

This is Salem and Milly's favorite stalking ground. Play in the yard, kids.