Archive for August 2014
harvesting yellow … yes, yellow!
After so many lovely browns in my palette of natural dyes, I have despaired of seeing anything but brown when I lift my wool roving from the dye pot. A friend suggested I try Goldenrod (Solidago sp.). Goldenrod, in a variety of species, is plentiful along the roads this time of year. So, this week, on a drive to see our newly opened section of Route 8, we stopped long enough to collect a bag of Goldenrod.
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Collecting Goldenrod is new to me. I am always worried it may cause hay-fever, but I learned during my fact-finding – Goldenrod is rarely responsible for triggering allergies. Its pollen is large and heavy and transported by insects and not the wind. Ragweed is the real culprit, according to my reading.
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I also took a crash course in Goldenrod identification – Goldenrods have always stayed on my ‘refuse to identify’ list. They are actually quite easy to distinguish in our area. There are only 14 common species in New Brunswick and identification points include the size and number of basal leaves, leaf venation, the degree of stem hairiness and the general shape of the inflorescence. It was easy to discover the name of the species I collected – Downy Goldenrod (Solidago puberula Nutt.)
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The collecting experience? Bright and very aromatic. Smelling Goldenrod is like stuffing your nose in a dandelion.
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I had lots of material to work with, so preparing the pot of dyestuff was enjoyable too. And the smell as it boiled – very sweet. Most of the plants I’ve used for dyestuff have an unpleasant smell like boiling cabbage.
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The result was a yellow dye.
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But since the colour of the dye seems unrelated to the resulting colour of the wool, my expectations were low. Imagine my joy when the wool emerged from the dye-bath a beautiful lemony yellow!
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Yellow! Sigh.
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
fortification against the sea
On the second day of my virtual biking last week, I toured Porthleven, a large town along the Cornwall coast. Street View had done its image-taking on a clear day, but the steep cliffs along the ocean made me ponder what it might be like to stand on this exposed coast in a storm.
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I wondered why so many foundations along the cliff side of the street were abandoned. One of the foundations enclosed what might be a giant chess board!
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Then I had a first glimpse of the seawall and signs warning sightseers to beware …
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The harbour itself is a maze of thick, high walls and the piers of a now absent bridge …
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A little searching on the internet found a dramatic photo (credit: Annabel May Oakley-Watson/REX) of the clock tower in the first image above, during a coastal storm … (‘Should Coastal Britain Surrender to the Tides?’, Patrick Barkham, The Guardian, February 7, 2014). http://www.theguardian.com/environment/2014/feb/07/should-coastal-britain-surrender-to-tide
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(photo credit: Annabel May Oakley-Watson/REX)
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
along the pond
On my stationary bike last week, I travelled (virtually) along the Cornwall coast from the mouth of Loe Pond to Rinsey. During the week, I biked for 90 minutes, and saw 11 km of the Cornwall countryside.
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The first day took me from the mouth of ‘The Loe’, along the pond to just west of Porthleven, in Shadywalk Wood.
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The beach is a wide crescent of endless sand …
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The path along ‘The Loe’ is narrow, tree-lined and shady. I saw lots of hikers and fellow bikers, but not a single car.
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Biking along a shady lane, with no worries about traffic, thick ferny woods to one side and the sparkle of a pond on the other … a lovely way to ponder the days of summer …
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour – berries of Daphne
With the help of a friend, I have been able to add Daphne berries to my growing list of plant dye experiments. She invited me to harvest some of the berries from her Daphne bushes, before the birds ate them all. We spent an hour picking berries and catching up with one another. I went home with enough berries for my dye pot and some of her excellent photos of the Daphne berries.
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Daphne’s beautiful crimson berries are poisonous, although the birds love to eat them. I was anxious to see what colour they would bring to my growing collection of home-dyed wool. I know from reading that the leaves and twigs of Daphne produce a yellow dye.
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In the dye-vat, the berries quickly lost their colour to the boiling water, making a pale rose-coloured dye.
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And the colour of the wool roving after an hour’s simmer in the pot? A lovely yellowish brown …
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pretty side of poison
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exotic, elliptic
berries among laurel
leaves droop vermillion
toxic pills, birds immune
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spirit of bubbling wells
and water-springs, Daphne
drupes in rainwater seethe
and berries leach rosy
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waters blush at this strange
use of poison, tint the
roving, wool lifts yellow
brown dye from the kettle
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
summer spaces
Occasionally in these posts, I talk about our cabin. When I was a child, weekends were always spent at the cottage. It was a special place, partly because my Dad involved me in its creation. I still remember how proud I was to fill one of the foundation boxes with stones. It was a place where we could play in the woods and dabble in a brook. So it is no surprise that as an adult, having a cabin get-away has always been a priority.
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Our cabin today is built on a hill overlooking a lake. Originally, the property was a field overflowing with blueberry bushes.
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Today, it is a young woods, mostly of mountain birch and red maple. We keep the paths mowed with a bush hog pulled behind our ATV. The treed lane I once hoped for is now a reality. I still have a few patches of blueberries and lots of blackberry bushes.
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Originally, we intended to build a much bigger cottage – we even chose the plans. But through the years the shed we built as a sort of garage has become our cabin. It is small, only 19 feet long by 15 feet wide. But it is big enough for my husband and I.
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Earlier this summer, we hired a local company to finish the outside of the cabin. We still have work to do inside, but having the exterior finished takes us a long way towards the time when our cabin will be a home away from home.
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We spent yesterday at the cabin. We did some work on our entry gate, sat in the cabin and talked, and watched the dragonflies and blue jays. Usually we also read, aloud, a couple of chapters of a book and have a picnic lunch. Life is fun!
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Do you have a cabin or a place to ‘get-away’?
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
a return to Cornwall and its gates
I am back on my virtual bike trip along the coast of Cornwall. This week I have travelled 9 km from Predannack Wollas to Loe Pool for a total stationary cycling time of 75 minutes.
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I have missed the Cornwall scenes of hedgerows and meadows, stone houses and seaside quays. Mostly I have missed seeing the gates, so it is no surprise my first watercolour for this phase of my journey is the stone pillar to a private gate.
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
harvesting colour – the vegetable stand
Gardens are bursting with fresh produce and we have gone to the farmer’s vegetable stand every couple of days to get our fill of locally grown food. We usually look for new potatoes, yellow wax beans, beets, carrots, green onions and zucchini.
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This year, as a result of my ‘harvesting colour’ project, I am more anxious than ever to collect those carrot tops and the abundant leaves of beet and radish. Cooking these leaves in my dyeing ‘cauldron’ fills the air with the savory smell of vegetable soup, and makes me wonder what colour will emerge from the dye pot.
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Orange carrots, red beets and scarlet radishes … I am sad to say my expectations were low. I was certain every batch of leaves would yield yet another shade of brown. For radishes and beets, I was correct. Beautiful browns.
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my hand-spun balls of wool from radish and beet leaves … the pink is from my earlier tests with pickled beets
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Imagine my delight when the carrot leaves yielded a bright celery green!
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I tried to repeat the colour on a second length of wool roving, but the second simmering gave me a gold shade of brown. The dyestuff had offered up all its green colour in the first boil!
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vegetable bin
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most look for
vitamins and
anti-oxidants
seek the colourful plate
look at the farmer’s display and see
carrot orange
radish red
spinach green
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a dyer looks
for juicy leaves
and the possibility of yet
another shade
of brown
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
remembering place – Grade Four, part one
School-wise, Grade 4 was a fragmented year. I began the year in Medicine Hat at Webster Niblock Elementary. And then my family moved to a new community forty miles away, and I completed Grade 4 in the school there.
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I have lots of memories of Webster Niblock. First, there was the walk to school (red path in the aerial photo below). On one side of the road were houses, but on the other side of the road was prairie. Today there is a row of houses on that side of the street, but in 1963 the prairie was undeveloped and raw to its very edge. I was not allowed to wander on the prairie by myself, or to take a shortcut to school. Later my Dad told me he was always afraid of rattle snakes when we lived in the west. But I could see the plants that grew at the roadside.
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I still remember the orange-red Prairie Mallow, also known as Scarlett Globemallow (Sphaeralcia coccinea), and the Prickly-pear cactus (Opuntia) with its grape-like berries. At the corner where I turned from Second Avenue to 11th Street (blue star) was an expanse of pineapple weed (Matricaria Discoidea) – I don’t remember picking or smelling them … to me, they looked like a miniature forest of pine where tiny people could walk. I think my interest in plants must have begun during those years, encouraged by my Mom who knew the names of all the flowers.
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I also remember specific conversations with my best friend Laureen as we walked to school, including the disagreements we had. I remember that we talked about my moving away. We decided we would write letters to one another and we laughed that we would probably carry on our childish fights in those letters.
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Another place I remember well is the ‘courtyard’ where we played at morning and afternoon recess (yellow star). Spinning tops were all the rage and my Dad made me a wooden top from an empty spool of thread and a matchstick. We also played marbles and I always lost.
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It was common practice to bring a ‘recess’, a treat to eat at the morning recess break. My Mom usually sent a small square of fudge wrapped in wax paper or part of an apple. When a new little girl joined our class, my Mom, who wanted me to make friends, was determined I would be nice to her. Every day Mom sent a ‘recess’ treat for the little girl. And every day, I would run up to her, shove the treat into her hand and run away. I was generally shy and I don’t ever remember of saying a word to her. I often think about her – today she is a woman of about sixty years who may, from time to time, remember a peculiar child who used to bring her a square of fudge every day and run away.
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Webster Niblock Elementary School rear yard (we played with tops in the area by the red post at the corner of the school)
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
back to Cornwall
Although I have done some stationary biking since I ended my virtual trip across northern New Brunswick, I want to get back to the regular schedule I followed when I biked virtually in France and Cornwall. So I have decided to hop back on the Street View road and see some more of Cornwall.
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In Phase 7 of my virtual cycling, I finished the southern coast of Cornwall at Landewednack and Lizard. I’ll begin Phase 9 at Predannack Wollas and cycle around the west coast of Cornwall. I’ll look forward to seeing Arthur’s Titagel and Doc Martin’s Port Isaac. Mostly, my knees will benefit from more regular exercise.
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I have my first four days plotted and I start tomorrow. Just for old time’s sake, here is one of my earlier paintings from southern Cornwall …
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
remembering place – Grade Three
Grade Three, for me, is 52 years ago. Therefore, I am not surprised how little I remember of that year. I can only name two other students in the Grade Three class photo!
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I do remember my teacher, Miss Heather Johnson, a kind gentle teacher, always smiling. I also remember her because as a high school student she was taught by my father who was also a teacher.
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Miss Johnson’s Grade Three class, Crescent Heights Elementary School (I am in the back row, seventh from the left)
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My only real memory of Grade Three is of my Dad. I remember him joking with me as he studied my Report Card. I always had good reports, and this time I had a whole row of ‘H’s (H was the best grade possible). I can hear him booming in his deep voice ‘I thought ‘H’ stood for Horrible!’
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Crescent Heights High School – once Crescent Heights Elementary School (the school is barely recognisable, there have been so many additions; when I went there, the school was a long low brick building)
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims