Textile

Icy loom,
warp and weft.
The shuttle sun
weaving impermanent
winter dreams.

You can read more 15 minutes or less poems by visiting our hostess, Laura Salas. 

A Short Film

It's March 1st again and it looks like March is coming in like a lion again this year:

After the winter we've had this year, I was tempted to proclaim "in like a lamb" even though the temperatures are so cold.

Today's forecast doesn't include snow or gusty winds; no winter storm warnings or dangerous windchills. 

I guess you could call it a tame lion.

After the winter we've had this year, I'll take it! 

What's it like in your neck of the woods?  How is March coming in?--Like a Lion or a Lamb? 

Here we go again; another winter storm warning.  I think we went a whole week without one.

This one promises to be a true February snow storm--heavy and wet.

Looks like I'll be running errands in the morning. . . 

Winter, your days are numbered! 

I took my coffee cup to the kitchen for a warm up and noticed a new patch of sunshine streaming through the front door and landing on a small chair in the kitchen.  I've written here before about how much I love the play of sunbeams in this little house and delight in the way they often unexpectedly materialize in little nooks and crannies in the most charming ways.

I was in such a hurry to capture the moment that I didn't check the settings on the camera.  The picture was slightly out of focus, so I ran back to take another snap, but the sun had moved on to another spot.  I fooled around with it in my photo editing program and saved it to share with you:

I heard birds singing a few days ago. 

Spring is coming! 

Yesterday we had an unexpected 2 or 3 inches of snow.  That was pretty par for the course and after all the snow reports and pictures I've posted this year, I didn't consider it bloggable material.

However, today is something altogether different!  We're having a thunderstorm--well, sort of. . .it's a gentle rain with a soft, rumbly sort of thunder.  Sort of like Pooh's belly rumbles; soft but un-ignorable.  And there's fog.  How it is that we're having fog AND rain at the same time is unclear to me, unless it is because of the deep snow cover.

A misty, moisty morning. 

First D.J.: Rise and shine, campers, and don't forget your booties 'cause it's cooooold out there today.
Second D.J.: It's cold out there every day. What is this, Miami Beach?
First D.J.: Not hardly. So the big question on everybody's lips.
Second D.J.: On their chapped lips
First D.J.: their chapped lips is, does Phil feel lucky? Punksatawney Phil, thats right wood chuck chuckers its
[in unison]
First D.J.: GROUND HOG DAY
Second D.J.: GROUND HOG DAY

From my 2006 Groundhog Day's Post: 

"The movie, Groundhog Day, was filmed in Woodstock, Illinois, not far from where I live. This was the year I told myself I might get up early and go see what's going on in the square this morning, but I hate crowds and I told myself the same thing I've told myself every year we've lived here: "maybe next year." I have visited the square, had coffee and pie in the restaurant, and seen the spot where Needlenose Ned Ryerson accosts Phil. I have seen the spot where Phil steps into the puddle. But I have never yet experienced Groundhog day on the square. I'm not sure why, other than perhaps a fear that, once begun, I will be hooked and Groundhog Day will be a recurring event for me."

 From my 2007 Groundhog Day Post:

"Last year I said, "This was the year I told myself I might get up early and go see what's going on in the square this morning, but I hate crowds and I told myself the same thing I've told myself every year we've lived here: "maybe next year."

Well, now it's next year and,again, I won't be going to the square to see if Willie catches a glimpse of his shadow.  You see, I've seen the weather forecast for tomorrow morning and I don't need Willie or the DJ's to tell me that it's too "cooooold out there."

 This year, Groundhog Day fell on Saturday.  Tom and I toyed with the idea of going down to the square and then having breakfast at Angelo's Restaurant.  We went to bed with the agreement that if we woke up in enough time to get up, get dressed, and get down there, we'd go.  We didn't.

Another Groundhog's Day; another no show for us.  

All is right in the world. 

(I'll let you know Woodstock Willie's prognostications when I find out.  My predictions?  Spring will arrive on or about April 15th)

January is going out with a "bang!"  We've got several inches of fresh snow and will likely get more overnight.  I'll try to get some photos in the morning.

'Night! 

January has been an interesting month for weather in Chicagoland.  We've seen a little bit of everything--from double digit below zero temps to mud soup, from snow to fog, and everything in between.

If you click on the thumbnail, you'll see that the end of the month is fairly representative of the weather patterns for the whole month of January; up and down--sometimes within the same day!

February usually means more heavy snows and at least one "teaser" day of near 70 degree temps.   Spring fever will set in sometime next month.

If you've got one last weather report for Rebecca, better get it in to her quickly; this is the last day to report! 

Today promises to be another bright and sunny, frigidly cold morning.  The kind of morning that puts the spotlight on my dusty tables and lampshades and wood floors.

It's a good day to stay inside, bundle up and do laundry in my icy, unheated basement.  (It's also a good thing Kim doesn't live in this house, because with her cold feet, her poor family would not have clean clothes for 3 months!)

Most of the time I like my Friday cleaning days.  I try to get the house sparkling clean before Tom gets home from work so we can relax together over the weekend.  Relaxing is much easier for me when the tables are dusted and the bathroom is clean.

Which brings me to a nosy question; can you relax in a messy house?  I confess I cannot. (That's not to say my house is never messy.  It is.) 

 I'm off now to find something to throw in the crock pot before I collect my vacuum and Swiffers and get busy!

Keep warm and don't forget to send your weather report to Rebecca or she'll nag at you!  : D 

Bitter cold weather and drafty old windows and doors--the bane of old house dwellers, as Kim from the Upward Call reminded me this morning.

The past few days have been perfect illustrations of my love/hate relationship with this old house and my drafty old windows and doors. 

Our tiny little bungalow has 45 charming windows, all with waver-y glass that fill the house with shimmery, waver-y light on sunny days.  The ones on the main floor are nearly all the same size and shape, of the traditional prairie-style bungalow "9 over 1" variety.

When it's cold like it is now or when it's time to put up the clunky old storm windows, we talk about replacement windows, but the cost to replace so MANY windows is daunting and I would would miss my magical, charming, wonderful waver-y patches of light. It's very easy to talk ourselves out of even getting an estimate for the work.  (As I've said elsewhere, we are all infinitely capable of justifying and/or rationalizing anything, from theology to replacement windows.)

The doors aren't much better than the windows in keeping out drafts.  Our back door is the worst, though, because somewhere in the house's 87 year history, some less than skilled house owner crookedly trimmed the bottom of the door, leaving a huge gap in one corner.  The cold air rushes in and chills the tile entry floor right inside the door, making walking in bare feet downright painful.

Today I decided to do something about it.  I made myself a rice filled draft blocker.

Rice Filled Draft Blocker Instructions:

Measure the width and depth of your door.  Cut a piece of fabric the width of your door plus about an inch for seam allowances.  To figure the width of your fabric, take the depth (or thickness) of your door (mine is 2 inches) and add 3 inches (which will make two 1 1/2 inch pockets you will fill with rice) and another 1/4 in for the seam allowance.  Multiply this measurement by two.

Iron the fabric and fold in half length-wise, right sides together and sew one short end using a 1/4 in seam allowance, turn and sew along the length of the fabric, creating a long pouch.  Turn right side out and iron.

Next, working from the folded edge, mark two sewing lines, the first 1 1/2 inches from the edge and the next one 2 inches over from that (or 3 1/2 inches from the folded edge.)  Topstitch on both lines from bottom to top.  This will give you a long sleeve with three long, skinny pockets.  The middle pocket will not be filled.  That's the part that slips under the door.

Now comes the tricky part.  (You knew there was going to be a tricky part, didn't you?)  You're going to fill the two, smaller pockets that run along the edges with rice.  You'll need a funnel for this.  Don't try to pour a whole bunch of rice into the funnel--for some reason it doesn't want to work it's way out of the funnel and into the pouch, but it MAY end up all over your floor.  

Sprinkle the rice into the funnel a little at a time until you think the pocket is full of rice.  It isn't.  Pinching the end together firmly with your fingers, bounce the bottom of the pouch against the floor until the rice settles and keep filling until the rice won't settle any more and you've got about an inch of space at the top for turning and closing.  Pin securely and repeat the process with the other pouch.

Vacuum up the rice you've spilled because dogs will eat raw rice. Even when you tell them not to.  Especially when you are juggling a bag of rice and a funnel.

Now it's just a simple matter of folding the open end over once, zig-zagging it closed, then turning that over once and sewing the whole thing shut.  Easy, peasy, one, two, threesy.

Now take your lovely and useful draft blocker to the drafty old in-need-of-a-coat-of-paint back door and install, slipping the middle section under the door and centering it.

The draft blocker stays with the door when you open and shut it.  Really.  It works.

(The writing of this post took longer than the whole project from beginning to end!)

Local TV coverage of Chicagoland's deep freeze.  Could get down to -30 overnight.

All of you moms with teenage drivers?  You know--the ones who think they don't need a hat and gloves because they're only going to be driving about 5 minutes from home?  Have them watch this coverage--you just never know when you might get stopped on the road.  This weather is downright dangerous! 

We have gone from non-descript, regular-good-old, nothing much to talk about winter weather to down-right bone chilling cold and it promises to get colder as the weekend progresses.

Jake had to leave his car at work yesterday afternoon because of a quirky thing that happens with his ignition every once in a while.  The key goes in, but will.not.turn. 

It was frigid cold and windy and dark, dark, dark.  Bone chilling cold.  The kind of cold that is really unsafe for Jake to be out in.

So, Tom and I bundled up and ran out to the parking lot last night with a flashlight and crossed fingers, hoping we could jiggle, bang, and tap until the steering column loosened up and the key turned.  It took about 15 minutes and by that time, our fingers and toes were stiff and numb, nearly paralysed with the cold.   Thankfully, the car started up immediately.

It's been a long time since I've been out in those conditions for that long.  I'm not sure which was worse--the feeling of frozen fingers and toes and the blowing wind, or the intense pain of warming up again once we were home. 

How did the pioneers survive conditions like this?  What about newborn babies and tiny children? How do you cope with that kind of bone chilling, bitter cold when it creeps into your house, night and day?

 I went to sleep last night, thinking about the cold, thankful for my trusty furnace and warm blankets, wondering if I would have had the physical and mental fortitude to survive such conditions; thanking God for Jake's life, knowing full well that he would never have survived as an infant in another place and time. 

 

Squeeze through!
Darkness is creeping
Dinner is ready
Mom is waiting
Hurry up!

Silenced

Cold and forbidding,
Frozen in place,
An insincere gesture;
Hard to read
Impossible to approach. 

Upon further review:  an edited version

Silenced 

An insincere gesture:
Cold and forbidding,
Frozen in place;
Impossible to read
Foolish to approach.

We've got a light dusting of wet, sloppy snow this morning, barely concealing the mud soup below.

I've noticed something about Ivy in this messy, wet, squishy weather.  She stands very dutifully and quiet to get her paws washed.  She lifts her paws in the same sequence.  Right rear, left rear, front left--and that's when the trouble begins.  She resists having that last paw wiped.  The tail tucks under, the head goes down dejectedly, the ears droop, and all of a sudden I feel like Ernie Burt the Cop trying to handcuff George Bailey Clarence the Angel in It's a Wonderful Life. (Tom is more awake than me this morning--Ernie is the cab driver, Burt is the cop)  Anyway, if you've seen the movie, you know the scene.

I think she has a three paw tolerance for paw wiping. 

It's 32 degrees and cloudy.  Promises to be a gray, wet day in Chicagoland. 

It's Friday!  Don't forget to send your weather reports to Rebecca! 

Temperatures in the 60's, heavy rain, tornadoes, flood warnings.  However, the rain has not washed away the mud and grit.  It's just plain dirty outside. 

Pictures not forthcoming.

Last year it was warm in January, too, but bright and sunny.   (That's my house in the picture mummymac!)

Well, it may be snowy on my banner, but Chicagoland awoke this morning to rain, fog and mud.

The dogs don't like this kind of morning because it means they must have their paws washed in a bucket of water and dried before they come in the house. 

I don't like this kind of morning because it means I must wash the dogs' paws in a bucket of water and dry them before they come in the house.

Two dogs.  Who've missed the warmer weather.  Who think it's nice to go out exploring to see what wonderful treasures the snow may have been concealing. 

If you've got a weather report, email your link to Rebecca.  She'll be updating again on Tuesday.  Details here.