The simple things

The simple things make life pleasant. I made this alpaca silk tank as the first addition to my wardrobe in 2016. I’m no Victoria’s secret model so here it is on a hanger. It feels way better than it looks in this picture. Warm, and well, silky! Alpaca silk tank

We are taking care of our adorable little grandson for a few days and yesterday, the library ladies referred to me as his mother. Yeah! I still have it, at least with the library ladies. I can’t really play with my big toys while he is here but can still knit and spin a little. At a friend’s suggestion, he’s “sewing”. I cut a piece of rug canvas, taped the ends of some yarn and let him sew away. He mainly drags it around as a way to lure the kitten but calls it his sewing. Perhaps we have a budding fiber enthusiast.


I sent off my shadow weave scarf. The fact that the colors were too close in value was very forgiving. I had a problem with the warp at the end and had to cut it off the loom a little earlier than planned. C’est la vie.

I used the down time to finish some projects. I made this little sweater and blanket for my stash.
Dogwood blanket



Dogwood on bench

My life is so simple these days, my equilibrium was thrown off by a lost, hand made glove. Of course I may have to move to Canada in November.

All the stockings were hung

On an old halyard line and tied to our loft railing. And it worked. The line was lowered to loot the stockings then raised again out of our way. I may store the stockings on the line so they are ready for next year.

We celebrated early, so everyone could be together, and had a blast. Early, meant I had to finish projects by mid-December, and as a true procrastinator, things were down to the wire. I spent some late nights at the loom.

I finished weaving 6 towels (one for me) and never took pictures of them finished. Mine was a sampler and has all the different weave patterns. It’s also a little dirty because it is in use.

I made pin cushions for my quilting buddies with woven fabric I had saved.


The cloth is stretched over a little embroidery hoop, stuffed then glued on a base.

I ended up making three pairs of (to be) felted clogs.

We have a variation on a white elephant exchange with my hand made goodies. I wrap 8 hand made items and then people open and either keep or exchange them. The sock loop rugs were a hit.

I crocheted a fox hat/cowl and made a little panda hat but never photographed it.

Somewhere along the way, I got a Passap single bed knitting machine and now all is lost. I can’t even knit a hat!



We spent a whirlwind week downstate, which culminated in my first born’s wedding. Fun and games.

Some traditions faltered. Since we would feast on Black Friday, we deferred Thanksgiving dinner. We had takeout Indian food on Thanksgiving. I found a new favorite drink, vodka and fresh grapefruit juice with a splash of cointreau, while I helped an old friend prepare arancini, which we ate for Thanksgiving lunch.

I can clean up from beard wearing knitter to proud mother of the groom pretty well.


I wore my handknit mohair cardigan in the church but it wasn’t long enough to cover me when the dress’ zipper, which ran from below my butt to my neck, separated!! I managed to get it back together but then it failed again right when I was getting up for the traditional mother-son dance. So over the course of the day I could be seen wearing various people’s jackets and sweaters. Ah the memories!

The wedding caused Tim to look up our vows. I couldn’t have said it better.

” Do you, Tim, take Lynne to be no other than herself? Loving what you know of her, trusting what you don’t yet know, with respect for her integrity, and faith in her abiding love for you, through all your years, and in all that life may bring you, do you accept her as your wife?

[I do.]

Inasmuch as Lynne and Tim have grown in knowledge and love of one another, because they have agreed in their desire to continue in life together, seeking an ever richer, deepening relationship, and because they have pledged themselves to meet sorrow and joy together, we rejoice to recognize them as husband and wife.”

Ahh, true love.


After a brief hiatus at home and work, I hit the road – flew in the air – to visit my darling daughter.

I tied up lighthouse projects before I left. In addition to repairing picnic tables , glazing and painting windows, mowing trails and making scaffolding marginally safe, I knit two hats, tried two panda patterns (one of which I rejected because it wasn’t fun to knit) and wove a potholder.



Now to see what projects Chelsea has for me at her new apartment.

Creative geniuses

I am so lucky to have my daughter and three friends visit me at Camp Adirondack.  They are experiencing it at its best, despite the fact it’s still black fly season and the pine pollen is falling in clouds.  They’ve hiked locally and afar.  We went for a sail on a blustery day, played board games and of course have explored arts and crafts. Now they’ve crossed the border and have headed to Montreal.

In anticipation of their visit, I invested in a //” target=”_blank”>Harrisville Designs Pro Loom and a couple of bags of 10″ loops.  The larger version is an improvement (in my humble opinion) over the original 7″ design.  I never could have imagined the fun they would have with it or how competitive they would be – hoarding loops and judging the finished products.  In a couple of days, on their own,  they have explored color work, texture, twill and sett.  It’s amazing. It may have allowed them to appreciate the thought that goes into even the simplest project.  Plus they have a useful reminder of their time in the North Country.

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I also played with some yarn necklaces before they got here because there were a few – and why not celebrate them all – birthday celebrations.  We saw a version of this in a craft store in West Virginia and it looked easy to replicate.  I bought a little jewelry making kit and practiced bending and twisting wire.  I think the wrappings are smooth enough and hopefully won’t gouge anyone.


One morning, during breakfast, my neighbor pulled up in his tractor to tell me there was a fawn next door.  We must have walked by it the previous afternoon and had no idea it was there.  We returned with cameras and found this beautiful little fawn lying in the grass.   We gave it a wide berth and I  used my zoom lens to capture its image.

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Their weaving enthusiasm inspired me to complete a scarf, which had been languishing on my rigid heddle loom since December.  Now the loom vacuum is begging for another project.

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Over the past couple of days I have scored a Louet Drum Carder and Brother Serger.  So much experimenting to do.

Is your child a picky eater or are you a bad cook?

I’m serious. Think about it. I heard a discussion on NPR yesterday about managing picky eaters. They even had a new phrase to replace “picky eater” but I forget what it was. The conversation got me to thinking.

I was labeled a picky eater as a child. I was left to sit at the table with an unfinished plate before me. I don’t remember how long I was left there, but it felt like an eternity. I softly singing a song with my dog’s name in it to keep her nearby. Then I would feed unwanted scraps to her under the table.

BUT I am NOT a picky eater. I love and will eat almost anything- anything! My mother, however, was a terrible cook. She hated cooking and it showed. We had broiled meat, leseur petit peas from a can (which I loathe to this day), powdered mashed potatoes almost every night. I wasn’t a picky eater, I was a discriminating eater. To make matters worse, it was my job to scrub the broiler pan after the meal and it was never lined with foil or anything to make the job easier or more palatable.

The first time I baked cookies was at a friend’s house in fourth grade. It was an awakening, the smell of toll house cookies baking in the oven was something I still love. Who doesn’t.

At age thirteen or so I became a vegetarian (largely because I was sick and tired of broiled meat) and began to cook all my meals for myself. Suddenly no one thought I was a picky eater, even though I was a vegetarian. The food I prepared and ate was good. I still had to scrub the broiler pan though.

So I ask you, when you think your child is a picky eater, take a good look at yourself and what you are serving. Or offer them the opportunity to cook for themselves.

Spring slam

I traveled five hours south last week to meet up with my kids in the old neighborhood. Spring was definitely in the air. There was no hiding from the beautiful flowers and bright colors or the plentiful pollen.

Daffodils, forsythias and magnolias were all in bloom. So different from the north country where spring means less snow and wildflowers hiding in the woods. Someone was throwing their dead wood out in the garbage?!





Our old house looked beautiful and reminded me of some of my fondest memories.