How we feel about handmade
December 30, 2011 § 3 Comments
When Renee was here, we took a day to swing by Firefly Handmade, a market for artisans and craftspeople in the Boulder area. We saw lots of pretty things. Here are a few:
Renee took a home a blue silk flower for her hair and a handmade lip balm that smelled so fruity-luscious that it made your mouth water. I saved my pennies, this time, but took notes and business cards. And a sample of a salted caramel.
Afterward we almost passed the Dushanbe Tea House. Instead of passing, though, we paused. And went inside for another teatime. (I must mention that the next day we toured Celestial Seasonings. It was a tea-filled weekend.)
The tea house was built in the 1980s as gift to the City of Boulder from the capital city of Dushanbe, Tajikistan – a country I perhaps once heard about in eighth-grade geography, but must have promptly forgotten, as it sounds kind of made-up to me. Here’s some interesting history.
Inside we waited to be seated with our heads tipped upward. The tea house has the most beautiful ceilings.
And a delicious house chai.
It was an uplifting day!
So much art to be seen, touched, tried on and even tasted. Best of all with the best of friends.
Teatime at the Thompson House Inn
December 12, 2011 § 4 Comments
My very dear friend Renee has come to visit me! So we have been out and about around Boulder County, and I am happy to be discovering more fun to be had as well as sharing favorite places and things.
Our first outing took us to the Historic Thompson House Inn – a venue I’d spotted a year ago, before I’d even moved up to Longmont, and somehow forgotten all about. We pulled up the website, laughed when we found out you got to play dress-up if you wanted, and decided we had to give it a try.
The house is just as Victorian as you would expect, with an excess of floral decor, lace curtains, trinkets and towers of teacups. When you enter, you’re invited to sign in to the giant guest book, then visit the powder room to select what you like from the gloves, hats, stoles, and pearls. Once you’ve donned your fancy duds, you’ll walk through the parlor to the sunny tea room, remove your gloves, and be offered a steaming scented hand towel for washing your hands. The towel is essential, since Victorian teas consist primarily of finger food.
Napkins in laps, we were ready to have our cream tea. The orange tea came in a classic pot along with cucumber sandwiches, turkey on cranberry-sauce bread, heart-shaped scones, and gingersnaps. And one mustn’t forget the pots of lemon curd, cream, and orange marmalade. Scrumptious.
The other guests in the room were celebrating parties. Two tables featured young and old women all delightfully decked out for a bridal shower. The other small corner table had a grandmother, mother, and little girl – and the girl got a cake with a great sparkling candle for a Happy Birthday. We all sang, and grinned. Weren’t we all feeling a bit like little girls today?
Once Renee and I finished eating and drinking, we were given a small pot of raspberry sorbet “to cleanse the palate,” and sent away with packets of sugarplums in our purses. We aren’t the kind of girls most folks would call fancy young ladies, but for a few hours that afternoon, we got to pretend we were.
Small comforts
November 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
The November issue of Country Living – British Edition is in my house, with features like “Cosy Knits for Autumn Nights” and “Decorating Ideas for Rustic Rooms.” This room isn’t quite rustic, but everything has been cleaned and put in its place, and there is that peace of a well-organized home. I have finished one scarf (all knit stitch) and am nearly finishing another (all purl stitch). Such satisfaction comes with learning a new skill! And it has been good to remember how to learn, not expecting perfection but allowing yourself mistakes and time.
As I sit on my roommate’s couch with my computer and plans for tracking down that Right Job, and smile occasionally about how tricky life can be – still there are these things. These home comforts.
Dear readers! What are some of your home comforts? Comment on this post and you will be entered into a drawing to receive your own copy of Country Living British Edition – the December issue!
Also, the “Where do you create?” photo drive is still going on! Send a photo of where you create and you’ll receive a packet of blue pumpkin seeds as well as a chance to win a copy of Storey’s Country Wisdom Almanac!
Thankful
November 23, 2011 § Leave a comment
Periodically I’ve sought to cultivate gratitude by making daily lists of things to be thankful for. To make a practice of counting my blessings. I start with the best of intentions, and eventually fall out of the habit. And how easy it is to look around and unconsciously count reasons for discontent.
Each day of the month of November, my friend Amy has been posting something for which she is thankful. Can I just say how refreshing this has been? Facebook frequently becomes so rampant with complaints, questionable and controversial political or ideological statements, and (at least in my circles) details of parenting frustrations and bliss that I can hardly stand it, and wonder why I continue to log in and scroll through. Amy’s posts have made me stop and feel glad for at least a few seconds of each day. (Thanks, Amy – I’m thankful for you and your November postings!)
I could give you a long list of things I wish I had, things I wish I’d done differently, things I feel I rather deserve after working my bum off throughout college . . . and high school . . . and middle school . . . heck, even elementary. Life does not seem fair at times and it isn’t. But then, there are people suffering from much greater injustices than mine, and there is much that I have and perceive as “normal” that is really a privilege. So. This is the day before Thanksgiving, and I am not home with family, and I am not hosting anyone, and I am not following around darling babies wearing booties I made for them. But I can be glad, and grateful.
And here are some of the reasons:
1. I have wonderful family members who love each other. I speak to all of them at least once a week. With my mother, almost daily. And all of them put up with my big ideas, my joyous hopes, my disappointments, my ramblings that dissolve into tears. What a fortunate thing it is to have a father who lets you cry in front of him, a mother who counsels you through despair and encourages your dreams, a sister who gets excited about various projects and ideas and often jumps in, a brother who can fix anything and doesn’t mind just talking when you’re lonely, and another brother who is so happy to hear your voice he just has to keep telling you how much he likes having you as his sister.
2. My sweet dog. I can’t tell you how many times I am stroking her soft ears and looking at her face and thinking what a good girl she is, and how much she has gone through with me. She is my constant friend. She goes where I go. She runs with me. She sits close to me on dark nights. I am so glad I didn’t listen to everyone who said it wasn’t wise to get a dog when you were in graduate school and you weren’t settled. Especially a big dog. This dog was meant to be mine, this happy, triangle-eyed, tennis-ball-obsessed golden retriever.
3. New things to learn. Thank you to all the people who have encouraged me to look at the world with curiosity, and to try out what it had to offer, and even to look beyond what was to see the possibilities of what could be.
4. Good food! And the people who are dedicated to it. Farmers, chefs, single guys and girls in apartments, dads and moms feeding little ones. Those working at food banks, soup kitchens, and community gardens. This national excitement about food is, I think, about to significantly change our society. I can feel it. I believe in it.
5. Nonprofits. Isn’t it great that there are places that can employ us to do good things?
6. Horses. They’re just beautiful. And I get to visit them, handle them, appreciate them almost every day.
7. My friends! Did I really wait till Number 7 to think of this? How lucky I have been to have gathered dear friends almost every place that I have lived, and how lucky that many of them have kept in touch, despite the different directions our lives have taken. I appreciate you guys! Thanks for sharing your lives with me. (And especially thanks to Amanda and Tyler and Tyler’s family this Thanksgiving, who are inviting me into their circle so I won’t be alone on this day of feasting.)
8. Co-workers that I like and get along with. This can’t be overlooked! I find it makes such a difference in daily life.
9. Clothes to wear. Kinda cute ones, even. It seems silly, but it isn’t.
10. Poetry & art. Keep spinning those words, writers. Keep snapping those stunning photos, photographers. Keep painting and stitching and scrapbooking and doing whatever you all do to make something expressive and gorgeous for those who know you, and those who are lucky enough to discover you.
11. And finally, most importantly, my faith. I know it isn’t something everyone will share, and I wouldn’t presume to make anyone feel they ought to. Belief in anything is so personal, and everyone must work out what they believe in their own time and in their own way. But I can’t help mentioning how glad I am for grace, and for a God whose primary purpose is to love us and teach us to love each other.
So then. Thank you, world. It feels now like the natural and right thing to do is help give other people reason to be thankful. Doesn’t it?
Feast well, friends. Love even better.
Happy Thanksgiving.
Yarn on the table
November 22, 2011 § Leave a comment
Girls’ nights can be such good fun. This weekend a friend came up from Denver and we spent most of our time around the table. The dining room table is not just for dining in this apartment; that’s probably its purpose perhaps a quarter of the time. The rest of the time it holds the mail or the groceries, displays flowers or candles or whatever the season suggests, serves as a writing-and-planning desk, and now, especially most recently, it is a hub for crafts.
When my friend Amanda came up last Saturday night we had hot chocolate, a baguette with good butter, and beef heart cooked with potatoes and carrots and garlic. How glad I was to have her here! She wanted to sew a tote and I finally got my sewing machine out – the sewing machine I got for my birthday last May and have simply been too tired from working to do anything with. Just now I am waiting for fabric to arrive so I can put some ideas into action. But that night, I was happy to let Amanda have at it. She sat down without a pattern and out came the cutest little denim satchel with a mustard-yellow strap. That girl has creativity in her fingertips.
And me? I had just – JUST! – taught myself to knit earlier that day. I now know how to cast on and do a basic knit stitch. Yay, me! So while I had planned that evening with ideas for felt flower bobby pins and charmingly decorated seed packets, I couldn’t set down that yarn. My fingers wanted to practice. What a nice little feeling of accomplishment it is to see string turn into a length of fabric!
Though, I’ve pulled out most of those early stitches and have now set the brown yarn aside until I can decide what I actually want to do with it, after all. Instead, a pretty pink little scarf will be my first completed project, and I’m proud to say that I’ve got a couple of feet in length already. Knitting once seemed impossible to me, or at least not worth the trouble. After a failed attempt at learning to crochet in college, I avoided what I saw as the “needle arts,” waving them off with the excuse, “I’m too impatient.”
Yet as I get more and more into sustainable agriculture, along grows the desire for self-sufficiency, and that means becoming capable of new things, acquiring the most basic of skills. Including those slow-moving, detail-oriented needle arts. I want to grow, do, and make whatever I can for myself, and for others. Why? That, my friends, may be a much longer post. For now, I’m following the instinct.
Just now I have a half skein of yarn on my right, and a half-completed scarf on my left. Occasionally I get up to wrap what I have around my neck and smile at myself in the mirror. I avoided knitting until it seemed silly for me to not know how to do it. Until I started taking on real challenges on purpose, instead of only going towards things where I suspected I could most easily succeed. Now it’s like an addiction. That seems hard? Or not like me? Let’s see if I can do it. This approach has made life much more interesting and occasionally humiliating – or maybe just humbling. Certainly more satisfying. I dare you to try it!
The day after our evening of crafts, I came home from the horse barn to see the remnants of our fun on the table. The late-morning light and the first clementines pulled everything together and I had to stop, to pause in that small bright moment. It was a good thing to come home to.
Where do you create?
November 17, 2011 § Leave a comment
Keep sending in those photos! I’m curious to see the places that you claim for your creative projects. (Click here for the initial post about this request and giveaway.)
You might also mention what specific kinds of art, crafts, trades, and projects you like to do in your creative place. . . from making snowflake cookies in the kitchen to shaping wooden spindles in the back shed, from sketching in the office to collecting scraps of fabric from thrift stores.
What’s in it for you? Why take the time to snap and send a picture? In addition to building the artistic community simply by sharing with one another, (1) the first people to submit will receive packets of blue pumpkin seeds, and (2) each person who sends a photo or two will be entered in a drawing for a copy of Storey Publishing’s Country Wisdom Almanac: 373 Tips, Crafts, Home Improvements, Recipes, and Homemade Remedies. Send your photos to birchbark (dot) erica (at) gmail (dot) com.
I’ll be checking my inbox . . .
Amen, sister!
November 14, 2011 § 2 Comments
That’s what my roommate said when I read her this excerpt from farmer/writer Jenna Woginrich’s blog, Cold Antler Farm:
The morning started with a two-hour interview with a journalist from New York City. She was writing a book on the resurgence of domestic arts and DIY culture across America and the role of homemakers. We had a good talk, and I showed her around the farm. By the time she was packed up and waving out the driveway, I realized I had never thought about many of her questions before she asked them. She wanted to know about my thoughts on feminism and homesteading, about the role of women, about trend in suburban moms getting chickens and herb gardens. Some of the answers surprised me, and I realized how much of a traditionalist I am at heart. I might be a woman with her own empire, but at the end of the day I just want to be taken care of, and take care of things. I want this because I feel like it’s my biological right as a member of my sex, and because it makes me happy. I don’t think wanting to be a wife or mother makes me any less a feminist than wanting to be a welder or an Air force Pilot. Nor do I dare say my desires should be anyone else’s. But when it all comes down to it: I’m a simple gal. If I ever find the right man I’ll happily get hitched, take his last name, and stay home to take care of the kids and dinner. I got the 14th amendment and a mortgage with my name on it. I’m all set.
I think I smiled and repeated that Amen. You can read the rest of the post here.
Here’s a somewhat related magazine publication: Darling Magazine
And here’s a hardly related, but totally darling song: Amen by Eden's Edge
And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to play with two dogs, make a loaf of pumpkin bread, feed and water 34 horses, buy some paint, and craft a display to go over the fireplace.
Creative spaces, a pale blue pumpkin, & a giveaway!
November 13, 2011 § 4 Comments
Have you heard of the publication Where Women Create? It’s an entire magazine devoted to exploring the work spaces that women shape around their creative endeavors. Being a woman keenly aware of and influenced by her surroundings, I have found this publication to be at once surprising, unique, and inspiring.
I have yet to attain the dream home with its well-lit studio room or renovated loafing shed. And I rather wish I could be leasing a 100-year-old house or a flat in an old brick building where I might claim unique spots near windows with detailed trim. But I’m currently making the best of yet another cookie-cutter apartment. It’s not perfect, gorgeous, or quaint, but a girl does what she can. Lately I’ve been finding my creative spot on a quilt my sister gave me for Christmas, nestled with cushions in front of the fireplace. Add a cup of coffee and a handful of writing ideas, and I am set.
This is where I create.
Tucked in corners around where I create, I still have pumpkins! My favorite has been one I just had to take home from work, because it’s a very pale baby blue. See?
But, as you might also notice, the pumpkin was starting to get soft and brown near the stem today. This means Cook Me Now. So I cut into my blue pumpkin and set it on a baking sheet. Do you know what I found inside? Lots and lots of seeds. The seed cavity was huge, although there is still a good bit of flesh to eat. And no, the flesh is not blue (that would be weird, right?) but typical pumpkin orange. I can smell it baking right now. And I am feeling generous.
So here’s my giveaway offer this month, which is perhaps more of a trade: I’m curious to know about your creative spaces – even if they are just dreaming-of-creating spaces right now. Men and women are welcome to answer, by the way! So snap a shot or two, and send it to me at birchbark (dot) erica (at) gmail (dot) com. In exchange for your pictures, some of which I will post with credits on this blog, I’ll send you a packet of seeds from my pumpkin . . . until all the seeds are gone. (Be sure to provide me with your mailing address.) The sooner you submit, the more likely you are to have blue pumpkins growing in your garden next year! I’m looking forward to seeing your studios, workshops, wood tables, living rooms, attics, backyards, garages, barns, and wherever else you make things beautiful, make things messy, and make things up.
First taste of winter
October 25, 2011 § Leave a comment
At the farm we harvested everything we could today, the last-chance grab at saving what we might before the weather overtakes the rest. The fields look bare, but the shed is full of tomatoes, peppers, kohlrabi, eggplant, fennel, celery, collards, chard, even some cosmos and cornflower.
At the horse barn we blanketed nearly all the horses as the blue-gray gathered in the west. The barn manager and a few boarders came out to help us – oh, the blessing of extra hands! The day’s sunny afternoon had turned to rainy evening and it was important to quickly have everyone covered so that they’d be dry when the real cold blew in.
And just now, after listening to a few hours of drizzle, I stepped onto the patio and saw the first snowflakes. I had heard they wouldn’t fall until midnight, but I know that swirl beneath the streetlight. That is snow.
Cold will settle into this region all day tomorrow. Fortunately I get to stay inside most of the day. Job hunting, writing, editing, planning with the company of my dog and my roommate’s new nine-week-old puppy. 6-12 inches is supposed to come, and I imagine I’ll keep doing double-takes as I look out the window. We shall see; sometimes they are wrong.
But if they are right, this is the best day of the week for the first snow in my little world. The day I get to work and rest and play on my time. The day I might take a few minutes to run outside and remember the fun of the first snowfall. Warmth is supposed to return to the Front Range soon after this day-and-a-half of blustery weather, so I imagine everything will melt away quickly. No matter. Enjoy what you have in the moment you have it, I say.
So right at this moment: I am enjoying the little puppy sleeping beside me. A comfortable sweater. A blue mug. And the restful feeling of a quiet evening, after a hard-work day, with no alarm clock to be set for the following morning.















































