a little red hen

Knit elephant & sheep photo have something in common?

They give me a jump to posting again.  The yarn in the elephant's body came from Foster Sheep Farm in upstate New York--Schuylerville.  The sheep pictured here too.

Its maker, Carole Foster, brought it to the Columbia Greenmarket near where we lived on the upper west side of Manhattan.  She had a unique way of demonstrating how to spin which is captured on the link back in wintry 2009 in the City.  I'd admired a hat she'd knit from worsted Greenspun from her own natural colored flock.  Purchase the purple/gray yarn and she gave me her hand written recipe.  Something in it proved elusive, so....

This Danger Crafts pattern for an elephant seemed a good way to use it otherwise.  Easy to follow the thoroughly color-illustrated instructions.  Except for the end:  putting pieces together always a major challenge.

I'm trying to use yarn in my stash, of which there is far too much. With vintage black buttons for eyes, it's ready to mail for Roxie's fifth birthday next week.  Today Carole's newsletter arrived and the odd sheep view came from I know not where--in today's email.  That's my story and here is unnamed as yet doll from the rear also.

 

Roxie herself saw the elephant the other day on Skype.  She is reluctant to appear this way; her father says there is something confusing about the appearance of people she knows on a screen.

I hope the knit doll makes as big a hit as the chocolate-covered strawberries sent for our son's birthday earlier in the month.  Now those were a big hit, it's reported.  Everyone else seems to be about Edible Arrangements except me!  And I only found them by chance; was about to do something ordinary like flowers.  Great gift for the difficult-to-gift--like my over thirty son who loves fruit as well as chocolate.   Do you agree the baskets are kind of funky, like cartoons of the actual thing--fruit as interpreted by Disney?

Foster Sheep Farm is part of the 3 Bags Full Campaign in  Saratoga County, New York.  It is a land trust and advocate for smart growth, working to preserve a range of things important to hold dear--trails, small woodland parks.  Knitters and fiber artists are working to raise $15,00 to conserve the farm for future generations.  Great idea, makes me wonder if there are similar projects in other states.

INFORMATIONAL UPDATE FROM NYC..............

 January 5 (the brithday approaches) and Roxie has named elephant:  Snorty.

 

New York's deep history shaped by the rich

Why is it that I have to be reminded that New York City has always been shaped by the rich?  Those highly entrepreneurial Dutch settlers who pulled a fast one, actually many, many fast ones on the Lenape Indians, brought slavery to what they called "New Netherlands," but were eventually outsmarted by the English, and you know the rest of the story.

[Not a history blog here, just a Little Red Hen resource provider.  Read Kenneth Jackson's Encyclopedia of New York, for a left-of-center view there's Eric Foner on life among the working classes, when you're in the City, do a walking tour with Big Onion.]

Our son and his spouse suggest places we can visit while enjoying their Roxie.  On we went to another of the Historic Hudson Valley sites. Last visit it was Sunnyside, mid-19th century home of the writer, Washington Irving in Tarrytown/Irvington.  Roxie was a trouper as we stood near the Hudson, then squeezed into the small house with other tourists.

This time with better weather, it was Phillipsburg Manor in Sleepy Hollow and earlier years-- around 1750.  As we stood in the house, our tour guide explained that we were not really in someone's home.  Maybe a faux home would be a better description; the Phillips, an Anglo-Dutch family spent their time in Manhattan on Pearl Street.  This was their office, so to speak, where they conducted their extensive farming, milling, and trading business.

How much property did this successful family own? Though we were told on the tour, these details are not on the official site but were noted at TravelLady magazine (filled with more detail about how the place operated, who worked where).   52,000 acres from northern Manhattan to Croton.  Their holdings included 23 African slaves.  [The Rockefeller estate is nearby.] One of the impressive aspects of our tour was that we were told these facts by our guide, told what were the kinds of jobs done by tenant farmers who had to be trusted by their distant employers and, of course, slaves and who were unble to barter for freedom.  Detailed information on slavery at the manor on this video.

Unlike TravelLady whose visit was in 2007, we were at the Manor after the ruinous storms and flooding of Hurricance Irene in August.  At her site are photos of the Grist Mill when it was in operation, producing flour.  No longer; it will take a new round of fund-raising to fix it.  Natural disaster must have occurred in earlier centuries. I wonders how this changed things:  local people laid off, slaves sold?

Along with Roxie, I was intrigued with this gourd container and the corn cob  wrapped with twine to create a stopper for it. 

Thanks to our first guide at the manor house whom we asked about her shawl (handwoven there), we were directed to another guide, also informative, the fiber expert.  In the photo, she is explaining the origin on the farm of each color in her coat.  Roxie proved adept at carding and rolling wool into rolags.  We thought she'd been here before but, no, her parents said... maybe another nursery school adventure.

With all the sights and sounds in the afternoon,  the variety of beans --and their names--(Roxie took home a black and white soldier bean), being able to touch the cheese in hardening stages, sheep roaming about, it was something we did not catch on camera that happened very fast just after this cow was led to the barn.  A farm cat rushed past us, climbed quickly up a tree, rushed to the ground with a baby squirrel in his mouth.  In seconds he/she began to eat.  Ron was fascinated; Roxie missed it and was taken with the excitement of onlookers. 

If we visit again in April, we might be able to  see a "Sheep to Shawl" festival at Phillipsburg.  The link, to a 2009 event, shows the traditional border collie sheep run held at many wool fairs and Manor guides enacting slaves.  The costumed staff added a great deal to my experience, help to move me back in time.  Made me wonder what it would have been like if I'd been costumed when I was a docent at the Tenement Museum on New York City's lower east side.  A simpler setting in 1997 than now, the choices might have included myself as an immigrant German Jewish widow in 1860s, orthodox Jewish woman post World War I, or early 1930s first generation Italian housewife. 

With all my political and moral critiques  of the rich in America and what they have done/are doing to our lives, I am grateful that we had another wonderful afternoon with Roxie--thanks to the enormously wealthy people who decided to provide this connection to our pasts in New York.  It is an ambivalent life.

Early Autumn in New York with Roxie

It was mid-September when we reached New York--weather as unpredictable as Portland.  But not our Roxie: darling as on Skype with her newly cut long hair-- and our last realtime encounter in December.  And more verbal, "Look, Daddy, Grandma made me a shrug!" 

She shared her preferences with us.   Lunch in Tarrytown required the companion doll, one of those awful pink princess objects all the rage with contemporary little girls on both coasts and in between.  The Disney triumph.

Pink shoes too.  Roxie does include purple in her color range.   As the 1970s Mom who hyper-consciously did not dress my daughter and son in "those colors," even as babies, all the pinkness makes me sad.  Is this what is meant by "be careful what you wish for"?  Or proof once again that advertising and commerce rule in America and tiny social movements like the one by women change some things but resist who controls how clothes designers regard women and girls.

Along with our own dinner-for-the-flight, we'd brought along Ron's rooftop "portrait tomato" the one that elicited a wonderful range of blog commenters recently.  As we were describing it to her parents, Roxie declared, "I love tomatoes!" and transformed it into an ordinary tomato.

Here's the consequence of  her vegetable enthusiasm.  Because we saw a similar tomato from another home garden in Portland (New Seasons would never put one like this on their shelves), I speculate it is a Northwest phenomenon.  Have you spotted them elsewhere outside the PDX "keeping it weird" area?

Roxie also is a careful observer of the natural world.  She called our attention to  the glorious sunsets over the Hudson River from their balcony. Hard to resist taking photos.  At 4.5 years our New York granddaughter has already learned to do the same from her mother whose own mother was an accomplished photographer.

Our Zoe, six years old and off to kindergarten

  Earlier in September, our granddaughter Zoe was very focused on only one event.  With Ron as he ran several errands, she announced to all:

"My birthday is next week and my Grandpa will not be there!"

She thoughtfully changed the wording to include "Grandma" when she was with me.  Very significant.  My daughter sent this photo today as she went off to her second day of kindergarten.  And wore the shrug I'd knitted and gave her at her birthday party.

The chocolate sourdough cake, large enough to  serve many, found online at Cooks.com, is  same recipe that had its first baking for my final PSU Street Art class in the spring.  The vintage cake carrier is something I long ago purchased for its fit into an imaginary, alternative life I'd never had where people used these--maybe early 20th century.   Now I can feel it is slightly integrated into my own life!

The shrug was the third one knitted from the same pattern.  Used Mission Falls 1824 Cotton on both, lovely stuff, went out of business earlier this year though some still available through diligent searches.  Earlier, made one for her three year old sister's birthday in August.  Eliana (at left in photo) immediately threw it on the floor so it is in a kind of limbo life at the moment.  Then there's the one for Roxie that we will take to New York.

Grandparenting from far away

Next month we travel to New York to see Roxie, Leanne, and Nick again as we did in December.  It does not get easier to have these long spaces between times. 

This is one of my favorite photos as she walked down our hall.  I found the basket for our picnic on the roof in the Thrift Shop where we live.  Twice a week volunteer residents run the place.  The money goes to the Terwilliger Foundation which supports residents whose money runs out--which can happen as we live longer--particularly for single women.

Skype, as others have discovere, helps.  In December, Roxie still had her beautiful long hair. 

But last month, they were gone--as seen in this photo I took while we talked about this and that,  held up objects that might entertain her, and saw her latest drawings.

It is family life in the new world of electronic innovaton...and a good thing, even if not perfect.

Can knitting happen inside a washing car?

The other day, had my second experience staying in a car during a car wash.      Last summer was the first-- when our NYC family was visiting.

It was a surprise when Roxie's parents said, "Let's stay in the car!"

Roxie was wide-eyed at the start then curious. Looking at the pictures,  I'm thinking it was spooky.  But it seeme d a great adventure at the time.                       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Knitting Catch-up: our very different styles

Carried my latest big project, another more complex vest, on our December trip to New York.  Very cold--this before the big blizzard--so had taken two scarves.  Put small extra (always prepared to shiver) around Roxie's little neck.  She liked that:  Grandma's scarf.

Should I make one for her?  She liked that too.  On our only day in Manhattan, our first stop was a sentimental one at Knitty City.  Crowded before Xmas with many customers, big beginner's class.  "Naomi Bloom!" Pearl Chin shouted as I was enveloped in a hug, "Where's Ron?"  He arrived soon, triumphant at finding a parking spot.  About to celebrate its 5th year on the upper west side, it seems Ron and I spent many years at this very special neighborhood store.  Bought soft purple yarn for Roxie scarf (second-best little girl color after pink).

Kay Gardiner famous via the Mason-Dixon knitting blog arrived for three of us to do lunch at Hampton Chutney Co., Amsterdam and 82nd.  She introduced us to Dosas and was amused we were so taken with them.  You can miss many things when you live in the Big Apple and this was one of ours.  I'm going to see if these "light, crispy, sour-dough crepes made from rice and lentils" might find a place to light  in foody Portland.

What did we not discuss? Yarn, of course, and her adventures as a "lone blogger" while partner Ann worked on a novel.  Kay also quilts, so we heard about "long arm quilters" which may be a bit arcane for most of us...SuperEggplant, a knit/food/thread PDX blog whose wrap-around skirt could work for your tights-wearing friends in the Northwest.  Cultural stuff is always on our minds when we meet.

I copied in my notebook her phrase about how we respond to these times, the challenges for young people like her children and our grands who are "living in a world where it's all optional."  Think about schools where students become accustomed to no-deadlines.

Ron realized he'd not made Kay a hat.  Gasp!  She tried on my Ron-hat, and now one is on its way to her.  I accept responsibility for Ron's dive into wool [link is to THE story/book]--all that schlepping around to fiber festivals.  And telling him that spinning had to have an end product like knitting.   Never did it occur to me that he'd turn into a major producer of hats--with labels.  The count is beyond 100 now!  Some of the most recent resting on his spinning wheel with Kay's at the top, ready to be mailed.

Yes, he is all about production, a very tempting destination.  I did that once with the 150 red wiggler worms some ten years ago.  Now it's just one slow project at a time though I did turn out Roxie's new scarf on a three-day turnaround NY-D.C.-Tarrytown.   Photo is recent products of the hat-worker, a/k/a, "knitting fool."  Kay's ready for mailing on the top.

Used up every bit of the Malabrigo skein (51% silk/49% wool)bought for Roxie's scarf.  Found a variation online I  when I couldn't remember (what a surprise) one used over the years.

Mistake rib:  Multiple of 4 + 3, size 8 needle.  Slip first stitch knitwise, then knit 1, (p2, k2) to last three stitches, knit two, purl one.  Repeat every row.  Roxie's knit on 39 stitches.

Hoping it keeps her warm in all the very cold, snowy weather in New York.  We were sad to miss her 4th birthday last week, could only sing on the phone.

being east coast again: other side of "distance grandparenting"

From lobby of Tarrytown, New York motel.

Laptop on my thighs, rolling carts pass by, all the wired people.  Arrived December 2... (Pepsi in the morning...didn't his mother tell him it's not a breakfast drink).

Roxie will be picked up at noon today from nursery school as we continue a different, eastern grandchild schedule.  She continues to be adorable and very verbal--family trait one supposes.

Spentcouple of days in Washington, D.C., to visit Ron's 89 year old sister, an amazing woman as she weathers dialysis, so very many life changes.  

There's an old-fashioned shoe-shine stand across the way in this glossy place.  Can see the swim pool behind me--favorite of Roxie.

More when we return next week--with images of course.

"Hamlet in Love," dinner with Leartes: Silverton!

Last week East coast people looking over our retirement community asked if we missed NYC.  Of course, we'd like to see our Roxie more, even on Skype (hint to her parents).  And there's a certain Jewish aura to the streets and citizens missing here.

But for having a good time, in addition to our local family, many possibilities keep springing up.  Seems more accessible than New York.  One has to look.  Last spring we met Carol Storke and Michael Smith at the intermission of  August Wilson's, "Radio Golf," presented in a converted black church in Portland's Albina neighborhood.  Talking quickly, as New Yorkers are prone to do, we learned we had much in common from our urban pasts.  One big difference:  they are now farming in Silverton, Oregon.  We heard about the town a couple of years ago from blogger, Lydia at Writerquake but had not been there yet.

Michael is a playwright, has written more than twenty of them--and poetry (read on his blog).  His past includes time as a theatre critic  for the Village Voice, a once-wonderful free weekly in New York.  Like many other publications, it barely resembles what we read eagerly in the 1960s and 70s when he was there.  We traveled to Silverton for his his latest, "Hamlet in Love" in a black box space at the local high school.

There was this brief summary in a Salem (state capitol) newspaper:

In this fresh take on Shakespeare's tragedy, Hamlet's father's ghost is only a voice in the young man's mind, and his suspicion that his uncle murdered his father proves not to be the case. His love for Ophelia blossoms, and no one dies.

Kristine Thomas, took time for a thoughtful interview with Michael for OurTownlive.com.  She drew out  more on why he felt compelled to reconfigure this particular Shakespearean drama.  "I don’t believe in ghosts so I don’t necessarily believe what happened in the play is true.”

We sat very close.  Young Hamlet (Kory Crozen), intense, saturnine, narcissistic--pulled us toward him in the first moments of the play.  We were convinced he was a little mad.  (He'd changed before I could get picture in authenic costume.)  So too was Alfred St. John Smith as his friend Laertes.  Ron was struck by how Alfred had been a light-hearted dinner companion then morphed a half hour later into Laertes (middle in photo)-- keeping all together for his good friend Hamlet.

Gertrude (Kelley Morehouse) gave a stately, measured performance and wore a terrific dress.  We learned afterward that she'd never been an actor before and came aboard late in rehearsals replacing someone who had to leave.  Claudius (Vere McCarty on left) cut a stately figure in an altered role for this up-dated view of Hamlet's story.  I entirely missed a picture of Ophelia (Dianna Bates)--and another gorgeous dress.

Draining the warlike and bloody aspects from the old story pleased me.  How Michael Smith pulled it off is for you to experience by taking a trip to Silverton (by November 14).  Hard metal seats; take pillows.

We can't promise a delicious chicken meal with potatoes and peas from the garden like the one Carol prepared for us but we saw several places around the town center that we'd like to try on another visit.

Along with a good number of tempting vintage stores with small objects we try not to buy.

 

Beautiful Yetta, a Jewish Chicken to love...

The city where we live, Portland, a northwest bubble, in the larger bubble, Oregon, is sunny and crisp today.  Summer seems to have taken time off; we wear light jackets.  We're sorry to have left high heat to our New York family.  We have also moved into an ethnically-challenged environment where all the women are white and the men are not bad looking and white also--to badly paraphrase Garrison Keillor.

Why a bubble?  Another glorious Saturday Farmers Market can distract from events that seem far away.  Issues with much traction  here revolve around the land and the environment--important, but what about threats to democracy?  

Terrible trouble is being brewed on the other coast by uneducated people blindly following a crazy fool whose cause is stoked by a woman who perverts feminism with every breath she takes.  I choose not to speak their names on this site.  Two blogs I read regularly for their insights Darlene's Hodgepodge from Arizona and  Citizen K from the state of Washingon enlighten readers on the dangers seeping from this execrable duo.  I thank them for doing the work. 

To celebrate the possibilities of diversity which might expand my own new city's bubble, I offer a children's book I'm about to mail to granddaughter Roxie in New York.  Each of my grandkids has been indoctrinated into my love of hens.  When they are older, I'll try to explain the reason behind this obsession.  I believe my maternal great grandmother in Poland must have raised chickens; this is an invention since no one was kind enough to share any of my ancestor story.

Ron, however, brings chickens closer to me via his paternal grandfather, the one who was brought to America from Bialystok, Poland by his sons who'd come before World War One.  The Blooms love to tell how this ultraorthodox Jewish gentleman, a ritual slaughterer (mostly chickens I assume) and scholar, arrived on the boat at Ellis Island with an explanation.  Wind had blown his professional certificate out of his hands and into the sea.  Now he could devote himself to religious study and be supported by his three American sons.

[Aside:  My sister-in-law, M.M., who reads my blog, is older than spouse Ron, will--I hope-- correct inaccuracies  in this story.]

Yetta, Jewish Chicken, entered my life through NPR.  Scott Simon of Weekend Edition Saturday has a long-running friendship with the writer, Daniel Pinkwater.  They entertain themselves and listeners by reading children's books together laughing as they go.   With four grandchildren (and on my own for suggestions),  I decided it was time to track down Pinkwater's books of which there are many.  Yetta is the most recent, a treasure even if you are not a chicken aficionado--lovable illustrations by Jill Pinkwater.  The text mostly in kids' book English plus much Yiddish, and a little Spanish too! 

Beautiful Yetta The Yiddish Chicken seems a timely addition to Roxie's (laundry helper on her June visit) poultry collection in New York; her family is about to move from the only home she has known for her first four years.  Tucked into its quirky, child oriented text about a lost chicken who lands in an unknown place is a message.  The book's flap, explains:

"Moving from city to country...appearing different from others, or adjusting to change...Jewish tradition teaches how we are to treat newcomers....From the Torah, 'The strangers who sojourn with you shall be to you as the natives among you and you shall love them as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.' "

Yetta, Roxie, and I want you to join us in hope that rises above and beyond what happens today.  I close my eyes and remember a conference in 1964.  Martin Luther King speaks of his dream to New York City teachers.  We rise to our feet; we are true believers.