Now that we are coming out from under the pandemic it is time to do a little documentation. Not that we didn't have time at the time, but perhaps we needed a bit of distance to appreciate what we did, when it felt like we weren't doing anything.
During the initial stay-at-home order we tried anything and everything to stay busy and sane.
We loomed potholders.
We puzzled puzzles. Charley Harper! 1,000 pieces!
In a phase we called Sewsocial Isolation we finished projects.
Made masks,
and totes,
and more totes,
and more totes,
and one more tote.
We tried arts and crafts to amuse others staying-at-home.
Thank you USPS!
We got to see sights in our own backyard that we would have missed if we were off sight-seeing around the world.
We got to know our neighbors from a very safe distance.
And we learned that patience, tolerance, and perspective are very valuable things to have.
We would love to have seen them surrounding the tree on ladders of various heights,
with crochet hooks flying. Probably under cover of night.
The nonno soundly snoozing in a completely upright position on the park bench below did not move a muscle as we carefully maneuvered around the tree to edit him out of these shots.
He must have been exhausted just thinking about how hard someone worked to create this lovely bit of street art.
We checked out the town, had lunch, and met an elderly gentleman who asked us about the current election in the states and what we thought about "That Noisy Fella". The man stated that he thought the candidate in question "could wreak havoc in an empty box". Spot on, fine sir!
Moving along we passed a window display that informed us that we were not at the Spatularium showroom, but that if we wanted to be we should keep walking a mile or two down the road and we would be there. This of course was way too intriguing to ignore.
We walked to the edge of town and finally arrived and found the "showroom" was actually a woodshop, and backroom office full of plastic totes stuffed with product.
No worries, the staff was friendly and accommodating showing us the wares and telling us all about the business. Then the spatula artist himself showed up and gave us the workshop tour including instruction on the basics of spatula creation.
Tim Foxall is a very enthusiastic and congenial guy. His spatulas reflect his spirit.
We couldn't choose, so we went for the quantity discount.
It was a bit like going to the dog pound and trying to leave all the puppies but one, behind. Fortunately the spatulas take less care and travel well so we could be a bit more generous in giving them homes.
If you are ever in Haltwhistle, UK we recommend you stop in at the spatularium to see Tim and his crew and all their little spatula friends.
We needed a new screen door at the lake. The door itself was super inexpensive.
Until we paid the painter to stain and hang it. Doh!
And then we determined that the screen would not last the summer without a sturdy surface for pushing it open so we devised this DIY plan.
Which worked beautifully and was a fun collaboration.
However, between coming up with the plan and executing it we found we may need further reinforcing on a much lower level.
Do you see a little hole left of the bottom center?
I guess we will have to make a wee flap so the mice can let themselves in and out without having to eat their way in each time.
And then next the mosquitoes will be wanting accommodations made for them too.
Sheesh! Where will it end?
And while we are on the topic here is a favorite poem:
How Many, How Much
How many slams in an old screen door?
Depends how loud you shut it. How many slices in a bread? Depends how thin you cut it. How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give em.
There was a period of time when one could find in every discount retail store a kiosk with a motion activated device that would play clips of the CDs on offer from a certain easy-listening music/relaxation sounds genre label. We blame the regrettable '90s and George Winston in particular.
You would be walking down the aisle headed for the Rubbermaid bins, potting soil, or printer paper and all of a sudden you might hear waves rolling in and out of the ocean onto a beach, the rustling of aspen leaves in a gentle breeze, or frogs peeping in a pond at twilight. After realizing you were not crazy you would go way out of your way to avoid that aisle on all future trips, but if you forgot, as we usually did, and passed by it again you might be surprised by one of those aforementioned sounds or, perhaps one of the many, varied, haunting calls of a loon. Our memory is that that particular CD was titled Loon Magic.
Here at NDL studio we have created, with a little help and enabling, er, encouraging from a Canada-connected friend a little loon magic of our own.
To do so we revived a craft first seen in Canadian Living magazine two decades ago to make a new flock, or as some sources call it, a raft, of peach pit loons. Yes indeed, these little cuties are at their core humble, naked, peach pits.
Ta dah! Incredible, eh?
And, since the original instructions are lost somewhere in our archives of pages torn from magazines we have had a devil of a time finding any guidance for round two of peach pit loon making. So, to get this almost lost art on the Google radar (personified new technology meets old technology in this wording), in other words make it Googleable here is a visual of what is needed to turn a peach pit into a loon. And just to make sure a Google search can find it. Peach pit loon. Peachpit loon. Peachpitloon. (Google may appreciate this effort, but Spellcheck is having a fit.)
And why would one want to make peach pit loons? Well, can you think of even one reason why not?
Thank you to the relatives both American and Canadian for consuming a half bushel of peaches during Canadian American Friendship Days 2015.
Loons are pretty magical. We never fail to be enchanted when we hear them.
As the bird soars across the screen following your finger and eating the berries in its path the pattern appears as a pencil sketch.
Next the design is washed with color as the bird flies over it.
And finally the berries appear more quickly, but harder to find in the fully-colored,
smaller scale image.
There is no score. No prize.
It is however lovely and meditative.
The Royal Scottish National Orchestra provides the perfect soundtrack for a precocious bird going about the business of doing what birds do in and around the garden.
Get a little taste of the Strawberry Thief here at vimeo.
Specializing in random gardening, sporadic quilting, constant collecting, avid nature appreciation, back fence news, front porch sitting, neighborhood intrigues, and smalltown trend spotting.
