Weekend Things ~ Valentining and Snowshoeing

We've had so much snow! Have you? After Tuesday's blizzard (it snowed all day and into the next morning), we had another snowstorm all day and night Friday and another one Monday. I don't know how deep the snow is now--it's hard to tell what's snow and what's snowdrifts--but it's certainly up over my knees, or perhaps deeper. The snowbanks are head-high or more (there's one in the parking lot at work that looks like a small Everest. It's at least 12 or 15 feet high!).

The kids are beside themselves with the snow days--three last week, one plus a three-hour delay this week. They don't care that they'll be in school until the Fourth of July at this rate. Live in the now, is their motto. Unfortunately, I only got one snow day myself, and have to go out into it every day, negotiating up hills with the back end of my car going faster than the front, inching around elephantine snowbanks when emerging from parking lots. Everywhere there are cars off the road or stuck in snowdrifts, broken down in an intersection or fender-bendered on a corner. It would be better if the whole world shut down during this weather (except, I suppose, the hospitals, and maybe the grocery stores, and perhaps the library) and we all sat by the fire reading and knitting for the whole month of February.

But if that's not to be the case, I guess we'll just have to make do with weekends. It was a brilliant one, sunny though cold. Perfect for getting some things done around the house. On Saturday, I did a little Valentine's decorating. My heart-shaped rock collection is getting a little out of control. I guess I should start giving them away as gifts. I still make a little nature table on our bookshelves, even though the boys lost interest in such things long ago.

And I ordered my Valentine's cards. These are the cards from years past. It all started with the middle one (which is hard to see in the picture)--a heart-shaped hole melted in the snow that I found one spring day several years ago. I ran home, got my camera, took a picture and saved it until the following February and had cards made. I though that was that, until a few years later, I saw the even more perfect heart shape melted in the snow. Since then I've made it an annual tradition, with an ice bubble, rocks, and a branch. This year's card will be the first, however, that is the traditional Valentine's color. I'm very excited for it. I also ordered a photo puzzle for E, Z, and M to put together while C and I go out on a date on Valentine's Day--for the first time in something like seventeen years. I considered putting E and Z to work making Valentine's cards for their class, but thought better of it.

I also finished one knitting project (more on that soon) and cast on for another one. I've decided to try to knit one thing per month all year. I tried this a couple of years ago and managed to knit six things (that darn summer knitting lull). This year, I'll take my needles to baseball and the beach and the soccer field to make sure I get twelve done. I made a list of the first five things I want to knit--all from stash yarn, which is an added bonus.

And I caught up on my nature journal "cheats." I don't always have the time or opportunity to journal while we're out in the woods, or even after we get back, so I make these little photo collages and fill in the details, sometimes days after the fact. 

Late Saturday afternoon, we all snowshoed to my father-in-law's house, which is about a mile away, over the river and through the woods (literally)

Most winters, he has a big bonfire party. This is the second time we snowshoed over (the first was about three years ago).

E and Z made a big drama out of wanting to go over in the car, but it was such a beautiful evening, with a technicolor sunset and a gibbous moon.

They found the energy for a two-hour king-of-the-mountain game on a giant pile of snow while the grownups stood around watching the fire burn and, after minimal whining, they made the trek home by moonlight.

Sunday, I helped Z make cinnamon rolls, which is something he has been begging to do for months now. 

While the dough rose, I worked on cleaning the basement. I have major plans to de-clutter and organize our basement, to get it to the point where I can get to the things I need and use (my yarn, fabric, craft supplies, camping gear, holiday decorations) easily and also so we can get some help figuring out a layout, should we decide to put a bedroom or two down there. It could be an extremely overwhelming task, so I'm committing myself to only working on it an hour each weekend day. Saturday, the boys and I straightened out the Lego corner, which had fallen into major disarray since I last tidied it up. Sunday I tackled a pile of totally random crap--school projects, packing materials, broken objects, things that need to be recycled but I don't know how, pictures that don't fit on our walls, etc. It was a slow process, which led to other projects--repairing a tile wall hanging, replacing a chair cushion--that needed to be done and were contributing to the pile. But I'm pleased with the progress and feel like one hour each weekend day, or even each weekend, will get me where I want to be by the end of winter, without burning me out.

In the late afternoon, we strapped our snowshoes on again and headed to the river to look for tracks.

We were richly rewarded with this trough where two otters bounded by.

We followed the track downstream to this hole in the ice, where they went in (or came out? I'm not sure now).

And then we followed them upstream to another hole some ways up the river.  

E, Z, and M were anxious to get home to their designated screen time hour, so they trekked on ahead of us while C and I crossed the river and retraced our steps from the night before in search of some more interesting tracks (we found deer, mystery animal, and little mouse or vole).

When we got home, it was time to start dinner and I realized that I had failed to do the one thing I really wanted to do this weekend--draft an essay for my critique group. I put together a soup and sat down on the couch with notebook and pen while the pot simmered, and within seconds, Z was at my side, reading over my shoulder and E was asking to play a game. After a weekend of pretty solid togetherness, I was ready for a few minutes alone with my thoughts. "Your dad is right there, why don't you bug him for once?" I said in not the nicest tone of voice and huffed up to the bedroom for a little peace and quiet.

Two New Pillows

I was very excited to finish up a couple of couch pillows over the weekend. The first one replaces one I made a very long time ago, of similar design (from Kaffe Fasset's original Glorious Patchwork book), which had been reduced to shreds after years of wear and pillow fights. The original pillow was done with the paper piece method, which is kind of tedious. I decided to try stitching the strips for this one directly to squares of batting. I didn't really think about how that would work when I joined the squares together (when I mentioned it to the quilt store lady, hoping she'd have some tips, she just looked at me with great pity), but I forged ahead. It came out a tiny bit lumpy at the seams, but barely noticeable.

I started it about the time I got the new couch (you can see the old pillow, in very faded shades of yellow on the old couch in that post), but I got distracted by other projects and summer and stuff and only finally sat down and got it done over the last couple of weeks. The backing is my favorite brown Kaffe Fasset Roman glass design (which I also used in the TV cabinet). I also quilted the back right to batting (hoping the extra layer makes it more durable) and I put a zipper right down the middle to keep it easy.

I finished the first pillow up on Saturday and made the second one on Sunday. While I was working on it, E asked me if I wanted to play a game and I said, "When I finish this," and he said, "How long will it take you?" and I said, "Half an hour," and he said, "How come the other one took you three [sic] months and this one will only take half an hour?" Good question! Because it's a much simpler design. And I just really want to get it over and done with.

I bought the fabric for this one on a trip to the fabric store while my mom was visiting. If I count back through the times my parents have come to Maine, that puts this fabric purchase at about five years ago. Which means this pillow cover took me five years and a half hour, give or take.

Again I sewed the pieces directly to batting, in a sort of mega-wide log cabin design. The down side of rushing through a project as I did with this one, is that it opens one up for a lot of mistakes--I forgot to include seam allowance when I cut the batting (I went ahead using it anyway, hoping that what I read in one of the many zipper tutorials I looked up is true--that a pillow looks better if the cover is slightly smaller than the insert), on one side the design came out off-center, and I didn't catch the fabric in the seam in one place on one of the center squares. I didn't notice this until after I was nearly done and there was no way I was going to rip out all the seams to fix it. I'm not sure what I'll do to keep it from fraying in that spot (am tempted to just stick on a random patch).

So, the pillows don't really match each other, or the other two pillows I already made for the couch, or even the couch for that matter (whose wine-colored cover clashes horribly with the orange walls and the orange butterfly curtains). But I'm pleased with them. And the boys? Less than a minute after I installed the first pillow in its spot on the couch, Z and M started a pillow fight with it, and then a few hours later, C laid on top of it on the floor, where we were playing a game. So, I guess they didn't quite appreciate the aesthetics, but the found them useful.

Signs of a Snow Day

Snow.

Tinkering.

Blowing snow.

Cooperation (briefly).

Browning butter.

Snow tunnel.

Puzzle (1500 pieces might have been a titch ambitious for one day).

Books and blankets.

Snowy trails (and slightly scary creaking-in-the-wind trees).

Catherine Newman's brown butter shortbread (with oats subbed for half the flour, because who doesn't love butter-drenched oats?).

More snow.

A Day on the Ice

It was cold and it snowed.

And then it was very, very cold.

And then it rained.

And warmed up.

And the snow melted.

Then it got cold again, for a few days.

With more snow on the way.

We found snow pants and coats and matching mittens.

And tromped through the woods, over the old, rotten snow, through low-hanging hemlock branches.

And we sat on an old log and laced up our skates.

As big, fat, feathery flakes flew, furring the surface of the ice.

And we skated.

January Thaw

After a frigid week--lows below zero most mornings, and negative sixteen one day--we got a couple of days of reprieve. Both Sunday and Monday temps rose to the mid-forties. Sunday it rained most of the day, making the outdoors not very inviting, but Monday the sun came out, and so did we.

As soon as we got outside, snowballs began to form. Around our house, there is an incontrovertible natural law that boys + wet snow = snowball fight.

I don't get it. I always hated snowball fights. But I don't get a lot of things my kids love (Minecraft, dodgeball, bodily function humor).

The warm weather called us down to the river (and not one single person complained about the trip!). I resisted thinking of it as "springlike" because that would only set me up for false hope. There is a lot of winter ahead of us.

Yet, out in the woods there were a lot of signs of life. Tracks (squirrel, I believe). Pileated woodpecker holes.

The swamp we stomp through was wet again--six inches of melted snow over the ice.

I saw this cocoon dangling from a tree that I'm sure I've walked by two dozen times since something spun it but never noticed it before. I wonder what will come out of it in the spring?

Scat. (Okay, so maybe I don't participate in poop jokes, but I take pictures of poop, which is probably even worse).

And more tracks (another squirrel).

The river was rushing.

A deep layer of meltwater ran over the top of what was left of the ice. I don't think this will be a walk or skate down the river kind of winter, unless we tuck into some seriously cold weather for a good long while (that's not a wish, just an observation).

Back in the field, we were back to the snowballs. It's so strange seeing so much bare ground in mid-January. I haven't skied or snowshoed once this winter--there just hasn't been enough snow for it (well, I could have skied last week, but oh, that bitter cold kept me inside).

The boys trooped up our trail toward home, but I extended my walk around the field and up the driveway, soaking in a little peace and quiet and fresh air. 

Already the cold was beginning to seep back across the land. January thaw made its appearance, then handed the reins back over to winter.