Jack’s Walk

It’s a mystery ©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack found a mysterious structure in the forest today and it left both of us shaking our heads with confusion. It’s a small building, you can see that Jack towers over it, with an open doorway and no windows. The walls are made of a mixture of mud, sticks and leaves and they form a simple A-frame cottage. Around the outside base of the structure there was a ring of plain rocks that formed an exposed footing and a single small sheet of gray plastic had been laid over the roof as weatherproofing. Inside there was a single, large rock painted a brilliant azure blue. The rock was incredibly heavy, much heavier than it looked, and I couldn’t lift it. I was able to shift it a few millimeters towards the back, but it felt almost as if something was pushing against me. As we were pondering the situation it suddenly began to rain and since neither Jack nor I could fit into the tiny shelter we reluctantly made our way back to the car. On the way home Jack told me that he’d detected a faint odor of pipe smoke and dirty feet and that he’d heard something that sounded like singing, but only for a moment. Well, that’s curious, isn’t it. Jack and I love a good mystery so we’ll be returning to see what more we can discover and next time I’ll take a few simple tools with me, like a flashlight and a something to use as a lever.

How to Sharpen a Knife

Instead of writing at lenght, I will let Walter Sorrels to explain it better than I ever could.

This (except the measuring of the angle with a tool, which I was taught to recognize by feel and eyeballing) is how I was taught to sharpen knives and it is essentialy how I do it and teach others to do it.

 

 

Jack’s Walk

The shy flower of mayapple ©voyager, all rights reserved

Things change so quickly in the forest at this time of year. Today we found very few trilliums and those that remain have turned the pretty pink of fading glory. Also disappearing are the Jack-in-the-pulpits and I’ll miss them the most. Taking their place are the shy flowers of mayapples and small patches of buttercups and forget-me-nots. The false Solomon’s seal is also in bloom and hundreds of baby trees have sprouted up across the forest floor. The biggest change we saw today was in the quality and quantity of light. The canopy is nearly full and the bare, bright light of winter and early spring has vanished into dappled pools and deep shade. The quality of sound has also changed under the fullness of leaves and the forest is entirely more intimate and inviting.

Mayapple, why must you bloom facedown? ©voyager, all rights reserved

Jack’s Walk

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

My grandmother loved flowers and my grandfather adored my grandmother and so he kept a large mixed flower garden where something was blooming from earliest spring until latest fall. Every few days he would tour the garden and cut the finest blooms for my Oma who kept them in an  indigo blue vase beside her reading chair. First would come tulips and hyacinths, then branches of apple, cherry and plum blossoms. Soon lilac would follow in fragrant shades of deep purple and white and then finally, finally, the peonies would bloom. They were my Oma’s favourite flower and their yearly appearance was an anticipated event.

I’ve always wanted to grow peonies, but it’s one of those things I never quite got around to. We have a small yard and a large patio and we just didn’t have space. Then, one of our trees died. It was a white lilac tree (not a lilac bush) that had never done well and suddenly I had an open space big enough for peonies. A friend who helps me with my garden found 2 peony shrubs and last year we planted them in early June. They struggled and straggled along over the summer and fall and I wasn’t sure I’d get blooms this year, but about 2 weeks ago buds appeared, three on the pink bush and one on the purple bush. I’ve been filled with anticipation waiting for them to open and yesterday when the sun finally appeared all three pink flowers opened at once and they’re glorious.

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

©voyager, all rights reserved

The Art of Book Design: A Houseboat on the Styx

John Kendrick Bangs. A Houseboat on the Styx. U.S., Harper & Brothers, 1895.

Today’s book is extra-special because it belongs to our very own Anne, Cranky Cat Lady. It’s also my very first reader submission for this column and I thank Anne for that very much. She tells me this book belonged to her parents and I can see that it’s landed in a good next home with someone who recognizes that the value of a book is more than just as a repository for stories.

Often when I post a lovely, old book I wonder what it feels like in your hand. What are its textures, its weight and its point of balance? What of the thickness of its papers and the feel of its edging as you turn a page? I wonder how the binding sounds as you open the book and what is the faint fragrance of its paper and glue and incense of ink. Modern e-readers are fine, functional things and I use one myself sometimes, but a book, a real book, is a treat for the senses and not just the mind.

If you have a real book that you’d like to share, I’d like to see it. Just e-mail me at the link on the sidebar. Thanks again, Anne, for sharing your A Houseboat on the Styx.

At least I had a pretty break

Hello there. I know, I’ve been very absent recently. Work was pretty demanding, the Damokles’ Sword of not knowing whether my contract will be renewed hanging over my head* and life being busy as usual.

Last weekend we first had #1’s “culture workshop”, which is an evening when all the groups in her school can present their projects, including her class. It was an amazing evening and the kids are really damn talented, from the chubby boy with the glasses doing a kick ass rap presentation to the Syrian girls reciting poetry about their home town Aleppo.

The next day was the little one’s school festival, which usually means the very same people working a lot. It#s the same everywhere. My colleague was totally stressed out because she was organising things for her kid’s festival the same weekend. Or as Pratchett noted: if you want to get something done, give it to somebody who is already busy.

And the works in the garden have finally begun. There’s nothing like coming home with a migraine and having people use heavy machinery around the house.

As a result, we used this long weekend (holiday on Thursday, “bridge day” on Friday) to lick our wounds and recover and spend some very quiet time together, going for walks etc.

But I also got some resin art done over the weeks, especially after Marcus’ latest parcel.

Some of this will be up for sale/auction for the FtB legal defence fund, so if you set your eye on something, just let me know.

*I’m pretty positive that I won’t be unemployed come next term, but that’s not the same as knowing and I’ve noticed that it has been slowly wearing me down.

First of all, this is what the garden looks like now:

©Giliell, all rights reserved

In tearing down the old stuff they found tons of unreasonable concrete which they have to get our somehow.

First project: tealight holder:

©Giliell, all rights reserved

These look very complicated but are actually dead easy and I’d say the perfect project if you want to do something with resin but not invest a lot of money in moulds and stuff: Just pour your resin onto wax paper, let cure for about 12 hours, fold over a glass, fix with a rubber and cure completely.

©Giliell, all rights reserved

©Giliell, all rights reserved

The fish are printed again, though I bought the sheet this time.

Next projects are under the fold:

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