I Have a Collection

The first thing I knew, I was using a similar explanation for things like string and cardboard and bamboo skewers (they come in all sizes now, you know).  Fabric was like a gateway drug it turns out, that made it OK to have unlimited numbers of . . . well, anything!  Crocheted tops, paper clips (have you seen what they are doing with paperclips?!), and quirky socks for children--as long as I had more than one, I could label it a collection, and that sounded legitimate.   

But I'm not here today to argue the value of collections or lack of them.  What I want to tell you is that October is almost here.  That means December is not that far behind.  .  which means I'll soon be getting out Christmas collections to add on top of all the other collections.  

It's not a good time to let skewers or socks get out of control. 

I hope you will consider doing the same thing. It will help you stay focused during the holidays. Think of a calm Christmas Eve. Think of a silent night, clear and free of multiples of little things.

I can't wait already.

"If it isn't there, it isn't in the way, and doesn't have to be cleaned." 

Don Aslett, author/cleaning expert

Zinnia Seeds

The seed kingdom is amazing.  It's so varied, so strange, so beautiful that nothing I see or hear of it surprises me -- everything is possible.

Today I set about to find out how to save a zinnia seed. I separated several spent flower seed heads into their parts, just to take a look around.

There at the base of the dried flower was a collection of seeds, each with a petal wisp still attached, all of them gathered into a perfect mound. If I pulled lightly on one of the shrinking petals so that it separated from the pod, a seed came along with it at the tip, shaped like an arrow.  It was such an unexpected discovery, I wasn't sure what it was.  

Our yard and the woods beyond help me to reset and remember that beauty has been preferred by all of creation since time began--day one--because God made it that way. I can do my part at least to promote that beauty.

I dropped the zinnia seeds into a small envelope with a label on top for identification, and put them in store until next spring. If all goes well, they will look like the bright flowers in this picture, come summer.

The Light of October

Rabbit Hill in Autumn

"Light is sweet, and it pleases the eyes to see the sun." 

Ecclesiastes 11:7, NIV

Dried Flowers 

One whole page of the magazine was dedicated to a glorious full picture of bunches of straight stems holding clusters of dried flowers with their heads down or sometimes curled in.  

The colors were intoxicating -- unlike fresh flowers, these were muted and earth-toned, but deep in color:  burnt orange, musky tan, wine red, mustard yellow. The leaves hugged the sides of the stems and came in the mossy colors of a forest, sometimes curled and sometimes straight.

Dried Roses I

"Well," I told myself. "Everyone starts somewhere." So I read what I could, practiced drying every flower that came my way, and hung up anything that looked like it came from dirt, sometimes well before it was ready to wilt and die. Flowers and their kin were on our mantle, the candle rack, a make-shift ladder, corners of walls -- anything I could catch hold of with jute string and a nail.

Eventually I learned a lot about flowers and what they do as they age and turn back to dust. That is, if I don't get to them first. Did you know that if you want the heads to be straight when they dry, you need to hang the stems upside down before they start to drop their flower heads? And that if you dry them before they start to wilt, the color will be more vivid? And that some white flowers turn a beautiful golden yellow, as did these white roses?

So if you want to try drying your own flowers, just know that the work couldn't be easier. My first attempt, even before the magazine article, was when I was absent-mindedly dead-heading a potted plant at my sister's home. The colors of the flowers were so pretty that I put them in a bowl to sit in the kitchen so I could look at them a little longer. That's all. . . I pulled off a few petals and dropped them into a bowl.

OK, once or twice I tossed them around a bit. The petals dried quickly and naturally inside the house, and made instant potpourri with their own unique scent. I know you can do that too.

If that's all you ever want to do with dried flowers, let it be all; but I hope you enjoy that much at least once.

Sewing In Style 

It's exactly what I need for sewing little squares and triangles together . . . no fuss, no mess, no confusing attachments; and I don't expect to ever need to replace it.

I once read an essay written a hundred or so years ago lamenting the fact that women were starting to sew with fancy new machines instead of by hand, and that such actions would surely be the suffering of society.

I don't know how many women agreed with the author's point of view, but her theory surely was overstated. Or so it seemed to me.