Six days to Christmas and the only evidence in this house is a lonely tree not yet decked out with lights nor ornaments, and a string of lights glowing on the porch railing.  Ed likes Charley Brown trees so here in Christmas tree country we always find a small, somewhat scraggly tree. It looks happy enthroned on top of the kid’s toy box.

The past month is a blur. What’s been happening? No cookie baking, candy making, house decorating festivities. Rolls were so fun to make for Thanksgiving that I made another batch the next day while envisioning setting aside a baking day per week. Orders to fill,  a week of below freezing weather with sharp clear days and lots of woods burning trying to keep the house warm, a visit from the grandkids, one shirt off the loom, two other projects finished and ready to gift, two separate Christmas music programs to practice the violin for, and an article deadline to keep. (I haven’t heard back from the editor, I hope she’s not totally dismayed with it.)

On the first day of the minus 20F week Ed and I took a short trip. We stopped at a bridge where I’ve long wanted to stop and snap this sight:

The zoom brings Mt Hood closer than in real life with the Molalla River in the foreground.

Mandy drove with the kids to Oregon to visit her mom. We were able to have Feather and Gus overnight. We went to the yarn store to let them pick out yarns for me to make them legwarmers.

Feather wasn’t sure about this guy.I cast on and knit the first 25 grams of Feather’s legwarmer and realized there wasn’t going to be enough for both legs. So until I can find some matching yarn (there was only one skein of the multicolored yarn she liked) I’m knitting on Gus’s pair.

I’ve been puzzling out a solution to warping with even tension but one that doesn’t take up extra space or cost much money. I figured out a temporary way to keep the warp under tension as I wind on the warp, it may be hokey but it worked great. (go ahead and laugh – I certainly did) My footstool turned upside down and placed on top of the warp laying on a woven rug. The warp was already sleyed through the reed, threaded through the heddles and tied to the warp beam in back. (Someday I will work up the courage to try back to front warping but I’m in the rut of staying with what I’m comfortable.) I thought I might need to add weight to the footstool but there was just the right amount of friction and tension to do a good job.A sample weaving thrown in the washer and dryer brought a revision for the warp originally planned for three shirts instead it’ll be enough for two shirts and one dishtowel. Sampling also allowed me to see if using color tencel in the weft would work well with the white cotton warp.
An aspect of this shirt is for the article to be published in weavezine. Please watch for it next month. (In the meantime go listen to the podcast posted today Dec 19th – I found it fascinating. Be sure and listen all the way through, the solo sung at the end is beautiful!) Shirt number one met all my expectations and I’m eager to start the next one though it may be after Christmas before there is time to sit at the weaving bench. So many ideas are brewing in my thoughts I wish I were successful in carving out a regular time to bring them to fruition. Early mornings and evening are when I can best fit them in which means there’s not much time for the computer and reading blogs. I have been keenly missing knowing what’s happening with my favorite blogger friends and somehow I need to figure out a better scheduling that also allows time for reading. By evening I’m often so tired of looking at a computer that I find myself reaching for a novel to relax before bed. In the past few months I’ve read The Time Traveler’s Wife, Audrey Niffenegger ; The Queen’s Fool, Philippa Gregory ; Spin a Wicked Web, Cricket McRae ; The Bird Cage, Marcia Willett ; and currently The Boleyn Inheritance, Phillipa Gregory. I do not agree with how Philippa portrays the Queen Boleyn or Queen Elizabeth for her viewpoint doesn’t line up with what I’ve read in the past of these two queens. I believe they were both Godly women rather than the tarts she makes them out to be. Still, they are novels and she is a good writer providing entertaining stories.

I hope everyone is able to enjoy the coming week without too much last-minute rushing around. I’m looking forward to taking three, perhaps four days off from the computer and office to truly relax and enjoy time with my family, especially on Christmas day, the day we celebrate the birth of Jesus our Saviour.

Heading out the door for a walk in the crisp early morning I started to grab my camera then remembered I still hadn’t posted about an early Wednesday outing way back in October. With Thanksgiving tomorrow it’s a good time to remember the visit with our son and daughter in law, the two grandkids and the blessing of spending a few days with them.

The Wednesday of October sixth dawned bright and full of the promise of hours ahead to spend with the grandkids. After breakfast we helped load the kids in their vehicle then stopped and picked up picnic supplies on the way out of their small town. Heading south we drove down an arrow straight road, with only two or three sharp turns, for twenty miles.

It’s interesting how a person thinks they have a good impression of a place visited while growing up. My mother’s sister lived with her family less than an hour from where G&S have settled. Growing up we periodically visited them in the summers. Ed and I also took mom and the kids to visit Aunt B and her kids and grandchildren in the 80’s. My fondest memory of visiting them was when I was eighteen and on my way to college we stopped to visit a few days with Aunt B. My cousin had a Quarter Horse, Pepper, whom he used to help nearby ranchers with their herds. My cousin reluctantly granted me permission to take Pepper out for a solo ride.  Away we went, my heart soaring on a good horse who stepped out eager and spirited. Riding along the canal road aways I spied a small bridge and on the other side was a wire gate and a track leading up into barren bench-land. Turning Pepper we crossed the bridge, soon had the gate closed behind us and were winding along the track leading onto the ridge. Once on top I let Pepper have his head and away we dashed. Topping a rise I saw a group of cattle scattered across the grass hollow. Having dreamed of herding cattle from the back of a horse  I nudged Pepper towards the nearest cow..

The seconds collapsed into a small dot of time as the world blurred past. Pepper took charge zooming in three circles around the cattle, each circle smaller until the cattle were collected into a tight knot. My breath was gone, left behind at the beginning of the first loop. I was merely a small passenger on the back of a horse doing what he loved. My legs were jelly from hanging on and maintaining balance through those dizzying circles. Exhilaration and joy rode within for the rest of the morning as we explored the ridge and hollows before finding our way back to Aunt B’s.

Back to the story at hand! I’d always thought of that part of Idaho as rather flat. Sure there were some valleys and ridges but by and large, flat. As we traveled like a crow straight south to the Snake River my head kept swiveling taking in the sight of snow covered mountains stretching across the northern end of the wide Boise valley as well as along the southwestern side.  Sure I’d seen the hills north of Boise, but behind the hills were grand mountains I’d never seen (or noticed?) on previous trips.  Stunning with fresh snow. (Sadly I was not able to capture the grandeur of the mountains to the north and to the west there’d been a large forest fire smudging the sky with smoke.

After twenty miles of straight flatness and dreaming of riding a horse across the land, my eyes popped at the sight of yawning Snake River canyon dropping away between us and the Owyhee Mountains.

I am a chicken when it comes to heights. I could barely watch Ed standing here long enough to snap this picture.

See how the cliffs simply drop straight down? Yep, it’s the same a few feet in front of Ed. (shiver) DL confidently manuevered the car down the narrow road cut from the side of the canyon as I closed my eyes tight and prayed no rocks would fall from above or the brakes give out.

In 1901 the Swan Falls Dam was built across the snake. Before then there’d been a ferry for the brave souls that actually went back and forth from rim to rim. There was a huge gold mine in the Owyhee Mts and this was the closest, quickest route for prospectors. Before them Native Americans had wintered in this portion of the canyon. It was so still and peaceful beside the river. We all felt our burdens and cares falling away as we breathed in the calm, ate our picnic and chased the many butterflies.A grand old cottonwood tree perfect for playing around.

I’m afraid if I don’t post tonight it’s not going to happen for awhile. There’s a huge box of needles to be shipped out tomorrow, plus a box of spindles and another box of hairpin lace looms, and several individual orders that need to go out. The small violin ensemble I play in has practice tomorrow afternoon (gulp, I haven’t practiced as much as I should) then Ed and I are going to see Fiddler Hanneka Cassel and cellist Natalie Hass. I can hardly wait to hear them together. Hanneke Cassel played at the local venue about three years ago and was amazing. She’s been a past winner of the American National Scottish Fiddle contest.

Then Saturday evening it’s practice for the annual Christmas playing/sing along that our Friends Church has hosted for years. Great fun. It’s the season of getting back into violin playing. After a long break I’m enjoying playing again.
Sunday is the Friends’ church Thanksgiving Potluck and celebration.

Oh yes, there has been spinning going on! A week or so ago I finally finished a long spinning project and was feeling pretty good about finally spinning what I thought was worsted weight yarn then 3 plying it so it’d be bulky. The roving had been full of vm and gunk that needed time consuming hypervigilance to remove. But I loved the colors and I had just the pattern in mind for it. The first ounce I spun on the Turkish spindle, it’s the spinning being done on the bike – see how far back that goes! Needing to get a move on I used the wheel for the next two ounces using two bobbins. After plying the three together, setting the twist and measuring out the yardage was perfect, 109 yards but it wasn’t bulky, instead it’s maybe a DK. 

I had one ounce left, could I possibly get enough bulky yarn? Back to the wheel churning out lofty, thick singles which were then plyed and soaked. 44 yards, the pattern calls for “approximately 51 yards”. With some adjustings and making use of the three plyed yarn in certain areas I believe I can make it work!

Three ply above and to the left of the 2ply bulky.
Most of this week has been blustery, rainy, dreary dark – not conducive to good photos.

The presentation at the Spinner’s Retreat was a lot of fun for Ed & I. I’m always amazed at how quickly the time flies when we’re giving a talk/demo together. The setting was at the beautiful Silver Falls Park at the Upper Smith Lodge tucked on the flank of a ridge admist the tall fir. I wish I could have spent the weekend with the lovely women spinners soaking up their warm friendship, and the sighing stillness and quiet of the park. Rich moist earth and tree aromas bring a deep feeling of peace and wellness. The cabins the women stayed in were tucked between the trees, ferns and moss covered vine maples were built in the 1930s by CCC crews.

There were about a dozen ladies who all made us feel very welcome and were wonderful to us. After the talk we had lunch at the beautiful dining hall then back up to collect our stuff. We still had a full afternoon of work waiting for us at home. Carol and Christine (two spindle addicts :0)gifted us with two lovely batts that they’d carded and dyed, along with stitch markers and cute soap that is nonscented and feels very nice.

Last week  warp and weft requirements were figured, cones of weaving yarns selected and warping board put together in high anticipation of getting a warp on during that bright sunny afternoon. The warping board is still waiting. Warping and sleying the reed is one of those tasks that I prefer to do during the day time with lots of natural light and large blocks of uninterrupted time. Ed came in the house just as I was setting up the yarn cone for the first warping bout. He’d brought in the first of a couple dozen knitting needles to be written on. A couple weeks ago we received an order for over 200 pairs of knitting needles and several dozen hook. Once Ed had finished most of the older orders and made a promised batch of Kuchulus he turned his attention to the needles. We’ve become a small needle factory.

(I owe so many of you emails, I hang my head in shame. Is anyone else who uses WordPress having difficulties with comments coming through intact to their email. It used to be that I only had to click Reply and the reply would go to the commentor’s email but now it goes back to wordpress.)
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I’d been stalling the trip to town to visit a friend hospitalized with H1N1 and pneumonia. The last order for the day was packed and the clock was moving to the time when driving is impeded by school buses. Deciding it was time to get a move on I stopped by the PO then drove out of town. Driving around a sweeping curve I noticed a woman standing next to a horse between the road and pasture fence with three other horses bunched near her. As I approached the three galloped with flashing eyes, high heads and tails into the road. They clattered this way and that not sure which way freedom led. With a blind corner just ahead I pulled over and jumped out to try to head them back, thinking they lived at the bend in the road. A van came around the corner and slowed down enough to part the horses around it. Seeing me they froze then skittered, blasting loud snorts through their nostrils. Waving my arms and yelling I tried to jump in front of the black lead horse in an attempt to turn him back. Blackie shied around me and for a moment I had the sensation he thought about kicking out sideways at me as he leaped past. A spotted brown and white appaloussa and a chestnut followed his lead charging past me with snaking heads and flying manes.

Glancing back up the road I saw the woman desperately hanging onto a lead rope attached to a wimpy looking halter on Big Brown’s head. She was barely maintaining control, her horse was rearing and crashing around trying to get free to run after his buddies. Talking quietly and using sounds that normally calm horses I grabbed the other side of Big Brown’s halter with my right hand and between us we attempted to get him down to a somewhat manageable prance along the side of the road. With each car that swept around the corner he panicked, throwing himself around, threatening to whip our arms out of socket.

I asked where we were going. She replied that their pasture was just around the corner and up the hill. They were her neighbor’s horses. She’d seen her neighbor drive off and then the horses running down the gravel driveway so she’d grabbed up a halter and a bucket of COB (molasses covered corn, oats and barley). The bucket of cob was what had allowed her to slip the halter on Big Brown.

As we headed around the corner Spotted One came galloping back and swept past us back out to the road then spun and ran back up the hill. Big Brown jerked and tried to run after him as my feet tried to stay on the ground. We’d managed to get part way up the hill when again Spotted One loped past us and down to the road where a car honked and swerved. Horsewoman rattled the grain in the bucket and Spotted One circled back to us then dashed on up the hill to where Blackie and Chestnut were milling around still blowing through their noses in high excitement at their wild escape. Big Brown was about to go ballastic and our arms were jelly when Horsewoman said, “Let’s just let him go. I think they’ll go back in now.” She had her own horses and had debated about putting them in with hers but, “my horses are well trained, I don’t want these crazy horses in with them!” I slipped the halter off Big Brown’s head and whopped him in the rear to head him on up the hill. At that moment I remembered my purse was sitting in plain view on the passenger seat. I’d grabbed the keys exiting the car but hadn’t dreamed I’d be gone for so long or out of sight around the bend. It was my turn to run pell mell down the hill and back around the corner to see my red car sitting quietly beside the road. Everything just as I’d left it. Except now my light tan jacket had smears of dirt up and down the sleeves where Big Brown had pushed his head. Blood trickled down one finger from a small cut. My arms felt like they’d been stretched to snapping point. Sighing I merged back onto the road and headed first to the bank then on to the hospital in the big town.

Vineyards stretching along the road about four miles away. Taken on Nov 4th.

It’d been ten years since I’d been at that Hospital. (Most people in this area go to our local hospital.) In that time four more buildings have gone up. What used to be one building with a parking lot across the street has turned into a small hospital complex with four large buildings and a large parking garage with “skywalks” for access between the buildings. Finally finding Sunny’s room I stopped at the nurse’s station to ask for a special face mask and was informed Sunny had just been taken to the Imaging Center. It’d be about 45 minutes. Sigh. Crossing back over the skywalk my heart stopped at the sight of a burning tree. The last sunlight was glowing against a brilliant scarlett maple tree, massive grey clouds piled against the distant snow glazed mountains.

My stomach was growling so I stopped at one of the numerous gift shops with selections of sandwiches and soups, then sat at a table placed along the hall and had a bowl of hot soup and crumbly crackers. Burned my mouth on the soup, littered crumbs all over the table and floor while attempting to look and feel normal. Sitting back down after cleaning up my mess and disposing the remains I pulled out my faithful Kuchulu to spin the time away.

Sunny was back in her room. I donned white pointy mask and spent some time with her. Living in a two- generational house she and her husband practically raise the twin six year olds, their four year old brother, an odd assortment of grand neices and nephews who seem to come more than go. Sunny was hospitalized on Sunday. She still felt weak and exhausted when I saw her. I hope they don’t discharge her too soon. I was able to round up a number of people to provide meals through the week but still once she gets home the little kids will be at her constantly. Her husband has the flu too but he’s a tough dude and is toughing it out.

Rain was pouring in the darkness as I came back into the next town over. A movement and a shape caught my eye – a deer on the right shoulder headed my way. Through town, up and over a small ridge, past my friend’s house, cruising to the edge of town I had a sensation: Look! Another deer stepping from the right into the road at a stately pace. Knowing there’d be another deer encounter I carefully scanned the sides of the road as I picked up speed beyond town. Yep, half a mile further a deer also making its way across the road, also headed north.
I wonder if the deer were planning a meet-up in the rain. With all the large animals moving along the roads it was a wonder that there were only the typical small roadkills of squirrels, possums, and raccoon.

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The Packed Kuchulu from last post? I reeled it off onto my niddynoddy to take measure of the yardage. 11 grams = 228 yards of singles. WIP came out to 58.

I’m very pleased and will continue spinning until there are 100 grams of singles to ply. For now this first spun is waiting on a shuttle bobbin until the rest is spun.

Tomorrow Ed and I have been invited to share about our work and spindles with a spinning group having a retreat at the Silver Falls State Park Conference Center. I’m really looking forward to it. We’ve had so many orders for spindles that Ed’s been working his fingers to the bones. Yesterday’s batch is being horded until we can show them to the spinning group. We were specifically asked to bring some and it’d be a fine thing to pack off all our spindles to waiting stores and have none to show tomorrow.

I’ve been on a mission: how much weight, how many yards can be possibly spun on my Kuchulu.

I’m nearing the final yards and must stop soon else the little legs will disappear. Yesterday Kuchulu 1 (I don’t normally name my spindles but this one seems to want its on identity) and I  headed for the weekly spinning group at my LYS. It’d been a long time since I’d gone to one but when the store owner told me that a number of women are coming regularly on Wednesday afternoons it seemed time to check it out.  Arriving late there were only three women left sitting at their wheels. A woman I didn’t know asked if I wanted to learn to spin. I grinned and dug into my purse.  It was good to sit and listen to their chatter while adding a couple more grams to the spindle. It’s now weighing 19 grams. Subtracting 8 grams of the Kuchulu weight gives me 11 grams, I had hoped to get 14grams =1/2 an ounce  on this spindle. I’m getting excited about winding this onto a niddynoddy and finding out how many yards there are.  I recently joined a 800 yard challenge at the Limegreenjelly Forum on Ravelry, this just might be the start of it.

Often it seems that a friendship comes about with various customers. I wish I had the time, energy, brain for remembering to foster these fun and often fascinating encounters with people around the world. Often I read emails or talk on the phone with someone and wish I could travel the world meeting all these dear people. One such person teaches in Qatar. She’s called on the phone a couple of times and we had the best chats! Last summer she came back to visit her mother in Canada. While home she sent us a package that left me speechless.

These two throw pillow cases are covered with hand embroidery!  My hands stroke across the intricate detailed beauty of these pieces and I’m amazed at the skill and hours they must have taken. Berta has traveled extensively in her life and she recently visited a friend in India where she got these. Also in the box was tea.Real Indian tea with Cardamon. Would you like to share a pot with me? Tasty!

Coffee in the morning, tea mid-day and a daily doze of afternoon Coke helped keep my brain functioning during this past week. Still fighting email problems and going in circles with the domain host providers on how to resolve it. Meanwhile, after a two-week interlude when sales slowed, they’ve ratcheted back up to a frenzied pace.

Distracting us are the Kuchulus! Ed’s first batch has been released! They’re posted on Flickr. It was easier to post this first batch there last night than wrangle any longer with FrontPage which didn’t transfer to the new computer. Another group of Kuchulus is almost ready to dance.

Isn’t that a fun word to say? Kuchulu – cute and tiny. Say it several times. Does it remind you of anything, perhaps from your childhood? Do you recall people saying Coo-chee-choo to tiny babies? It doesn’t seem so common now.

These little babies are dancing in delight around a 50 gram ball of cherry tree hill yarn, destined to be knit into a sweater for my first great nephew born Oct 6th – Joshua Zion.
If only I could settle on the pattern: BSJ with red and yellow stripes, or Baby Yours .

Fiberjoy’s Blueberry Scones

Preheat oven to 400 F
These scones are really easy to make, and if handled lightly they are tender, moist and scrumptious. Best eaten within a few hours.

4 Cups Flour
4 teaspoons Baking Powder
1/2 teaspoon Cream of Tartar
1/4 teaspoon Salt
3 Tablespoons Sugar

Stir together in a large bowl, then cut in until well mixed:
1/2 Cup Butter

Stir into the dry mixture:
1 Cup frozen Blueberries – Do not thaw! (Can use Fresh in season)

Combine in a separate bowl:
1 1/2 Cups Milk (if you’re feeling decadent or having guests use Half & Half)
1 Egg     Separate some of the white into a small dish

Quickly stir the milk mixture into the dry mix until barely moistened, turn out onto floured pastry cloth. Gently scoop and knead tenderly. Work quickly and do not handle the dough any more than necessary to gather into a loose ball. Using your hands, divide into two portions and pat each into a flat circle about 8″ across and an inch high.

With a fork, whip the egg white with 1 Tablespoon Milk until frothy. Brush over the two rounds of dough. Sprinkle 1 Tablespoon sugar over each. Cut into six to eight wedges with a sharp knife and put on ungreased oven stone or cookie pan. Leave space between each scone to bake evenly.

Cook in preheated oven about 18 minutes.  (Should be done when golden brown)

Enjoy!
These scones can be a bit temperamental with humidity or dryness. Sometimes not all the flour will be absorbed – in this case do not try to work it all in. Other times the dough may be quite wet. If so, be sure your pastry cloth is well dusted with flour but don’t work in more flour than needed to pat the rounds into a circle without having a gooey mess.

Awhile back we came across the opportunity to purchase a new computer, the last one of its type in the store at a close-out price. Our old computer, which has been in use since 2001, had been working under increasing duress; often throwing fits, stalling, and shutting down unexpectedly.

Being the tail end of a long day we snapped that computer up with scarcely any contemplation. As the store guy was freeing the computer from its securings I asked that the hard drive be wiped clean and restored to the original condition since it had been the display model. He said they’d take care of it before boxing it up so Ed and I gathered the supplies on my shopping list. It wasn’t long before the box with the computer was taken up to the checkout. By then my brain had checked out and though I thought it seemed like it was too quick for the hd to be cleaned I didn’t think to ask.  Once home we rearranged stuff in the office making a space on the floor for the box to sit on it’s side.

There it sat over four months, glowering at me as Old PC muttered, gasped and blacked out.  Before Sock Summit Ed didn’t expect me to spend time setting it up. August passed and hints about getting it running came more frequently. Ed isn’t one to nag and there reached a point when he didn’t say anymore. Danger zone. When he stops talking is when action needs to happen. Sad, huh. Ed does not procrastinate. He only knows the meaning of the word because I do.

I would walk into the office, see the disorganization and clutter and get completely side-swiped not know how to start. occasionally a bit of organizing would happen but not the main thing. Going away for five days and returning to work in an inefficient office space lit the fire to get it done.  And the desire to start a weaving project knowing I dare not with The Computer Project waiting.

When Ed went to visit a friend Saturday afternoon, the moment came. Calling a young computer whiz to give me a hand, I set to moving some stuff out of the office, setting up two new short filing cabinets, vacuuming up dusties and unplugging all the electrical stuff trying to keep the thousand wires orderly, and moving Old PC to a workable surface. David showed up and we quickly commenced setting up New PC. Until. Password? Password? Arghhh They had not cleaned up the computer. David called the store. Of course they wouldn’t give him their password. Bring it in, they said.

Dashing across the 25 miles to the store I made it before closing time. The tech guy set it up an account for us. Problem is, there’s still old stuff on there. It’s been taking the lion’s share of the last four days to get files transferred, programs installed, bugs worked out, email issues resolved – still working on that one. By yesterday afternoon I dispared at all the time being syphoned away by the set up knowing there are pictures of Kuchulu spindles to post, interested buyers to contact, sending one to our winner -Josiane. Nevermind all the orders that are piling up waiting to be processed and sent. The postage software problem was finally solved late yesterday and there’s hope that the final email issue will be resolved tomorrow.

Maybe one of you can answer why it is that in Thunderbird, the email program we use, the password for two accounts is not accepted yet when I type the same passwords into Old PC they’re recognized by the mail server and I can download the email. I’ve verified the passwords several different times in my cpanel but still can’t get through on New PC. The response from our domain host is to do just what I’ve done. Going in circles. Meanwhile, I have both computers set up so I can access everything I need to do my work. I’m hoping that tomorrow will be the final day of the dualing computers.

Be on the look out for a small flock of Kuchulus!

Hope and Grace came to breakfast this morning. The blueberry scones were steaming hot fresh from the oven, coffee poured into mugs, a jar of peaches opened and put in a bowl alongside a bowl with Lychee’s, a favorite fruit of Ed’s.

After eating and chatting two identical lists of suggested spindle names were placed in front of Grace and Hope. At first they talked and discussed the various merits of each proposed name until it appeared that method wasn’t working. Pens in hands, with little talking, each commenced to go up and down her list  marking through the names that didn’t quite catch her fancy. Ed was working in his shop and I tried to stay silent as to which were the names that appealed to me since we didn’t want to unduely influence their choices.  When they’d finally compared lists we were surprised to find only two names left on each list, and most surprising was that they matched. (Crazy! We’d assumed there’d be at least five or six matching names that would go in the hat for the final draw.) I wrote the two names on separate pieces of paper, folded each several times then put them into the hat.

Hope stirred and mixed the slips.

Grace reached into the hat

And lifted high one slip.

There were so many super suggestions that Ed and I were completely bowled over by the list. As mentioned in the previous post, we realized that there were some names we could not use, and it seemed prudent to use a name that met several criteria: fit the spindle; be set apart, different; and good for product name recognition. But I’d originally declared that all names would go in a hat (misunderstanding Ed’s intent) making it an uneasy dilemma for us.

Thirty-seven names were on the lists for Grace and Hope to narrow down to the final drawing.

The suspense… we really liked both names that were tossed into the hat………

Another perspective on the size of this wonderful new spindle beside the ball of yarn spun with it.

Oh, you want the name!

This very small spindle has been named.

Kuchulu  – Persian term of endearment for something tiny and cute.  Perfect!
Submitted by Josiane. Thank you! I will be contacting you by email tomorrow morning. Meanwhile it’s way past my bedtime!

We really appreciate everyone’s ideas and comments, a huge thank you to everyone.

Could it already have been two years since our last proper vacation where we actually left home and shop and drove someplace away from work, the phone and computer for more than 3 nights? Keeping a blog is helpful in checking the facts of the whens and wheres of events. Breezing through older posts looking for our last vacation I was stunned to find that no, it wasn’t two years ago when we slipped away to the coast for three days. I knew it’d been a long time but this? It was October 5th, 2006! What a coincidence to take our next vacation exactly three years later.

We packed the car and headed north than eastward early Tuesday morning intent on getting beyond Portland before traffic snarled the roads. The roads were practically clear of traffic and we arrived in Troutdale, where we stopped for coffee, as dawnlight lit the sky behind Mt Hood.

Heading on east we approached the Columbia Gorge where during our courting days we roamed its many trails and waterfalls . The wide Columbia River cuts a swath through the Cascade Mountain Range.

Some 40 miles later the gorge eases from the wet western portion of Oregon to the drier climate of Eastern Oregon.

A bit further along we were climbing into the higher desert country with massive wind turbines harnessing the prevalent winds that blow untethered across the hills.

Counting back the years to the last time we’d driven I-84 east beyond the gorge, I was stunned to realize it’d been thirteen years. Ed and I prefer the more leisurely pace of taking secondary roads on road trips. This time we not only wanted to make good time and arrive at our destination as early as reasonable, we also planned to make a huge loop coming home the “back” way, and I looked forward to seeing this part of Oregon once again. When the children were preschoolers Ed’s folks lived in Northern Idaho for several years. A couple times each year we  loaded up food, presents and toys for the three+ hour drive (each way) through the gorge and past this area to meet them half way for a picnic.

Across the broad rolling flats we finally began the long long crawl up Cabbage Hill, properly known as Emigrant Hill where many pioneers crossed the Blue Mountains and had only the Cascades, or the Gorge, to push through before arriving in the Willamette Valley. Snow still lay in patches in the northern shaded spots along the road. Tall pines blanketed the broad, almost flat-topped range. Back down to the dry land with few trees and lots of sage brush and on across the Snake River into Treasure Valley where proof is abundant what will bloom and grow in a dry land when water is faithfully channeled and supplied. Farms dot the desert growing alfalfa, corn, vegetables and fruits of all types. Weary we finally pulled into a driveway and rang a doorbell.

Hi there, sweet Feather!

Hi, little Guy!
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We’re almost overwhelmed by all who suggested a name for our newest Turkish spindle. Thank you, everyone who left a comment. So many clever, wonderful, excellent suggestions.( Sorry I wasn’t able to answer each personally as I’d intended. I took the laptop with us but the kids didn’t have a way for me to connect so other than a couple of quick checks on their computer I was pretty much computer free for most of the week. ) We realized almost immediately that we needed a better method than simply pulling a name out of the hat. While almost all the names have merit, some we can’t use because they’re in use and/or we could potentially have copyright problems down the road. I’ve written all the suggestions on a separate paper and tomorrow morning friends will come over for breakfast scones, peaches, coffee, and a naming party. They will get to decide which name fits this newest addition to our flock of spindles. Stay tuned to see who’s the winner!

Yesterday afternoon Crooked Finger Band had a small gig for a small office party at the director’s home. We were scheduled to play on the patio but just as we were setting up rain smattered causing us to scurry all our gear under the cover of the small porch. After the third time we were moved into the house which was a fabulous acoustic setting with wooden floors and a vaulted ceiling. In the smaller space we didn’t need the sound system and were soon making music.  It’s funny how much a setting can affect a band. No longer did we feel like we were performing, instead we were totally relaxed having fun singing and playing to the gathering who clapped and cheered with gusto.

Arriving home Ed said, “you should see what’s in the office.” At first glance I saw nothing new so decided to check emails, and then I saw it. A new spindle creation!

Irresistable! I snatched it up and soon was spinning away with this little guy.

Isn’t it adorable? Initially I was calling it a Turkish Gem, but its slight weight of 9 grams!  and watching the arms blur in a whirl of motion reminded me of the two hummingbirds that Ed and I had the immense priviledge of holding. We like Hummingbird but that seems too long for such a small guy. (Twice a hummingbird had gotten behind the glass window on our back porch and couldn’t figure out how to get back out. The one Ed caught had a a bit more scarlet on his throat than the one I caught a couple weeks later. (Ed’s thumbnail gets a regular sanding.)

Playing with the spindle again today words flit through my head such as Turkish Turbo, Enchanted…

We’ve been tossing different monikers around and like several. Ed had the idea that we should have a Name the New Spindle Contest. So here it is!

Write the name you think it should go public under in the comment section. (If done anonymously than the name will be omitted)
Names will go into a hat to be drawn by a neighbor or some random person.
If the name drawn was submitted by more than one person, every person who suggested that particular name will have their name put into the hat. The person’s name drawn will be the winner of Ed’s next mighty little spindle.

(ETA: We reserve the right to toss out names that we don’t feel are appropriate or can’t stand. As a Jenkins Woodworking product it needs to be something we will be proud to write and say. We need to steer clear of names already used by other established spindle makers such as Hummingbird which has been pointed out to me is already in use.)

Contest will be open until 6pm PDT Wednesday, Oct 14.

In other news: I made a video showing how I wind on to a Turkish Spindle. Frequently I’m asked how to wind onto the Turkish spindle and so decided it was time for a quick example.

There’s still much I planned to post such as the Oregon Flock and Fiber Festival that Grace and I went to last weekend. Until next time!

Please leave your name suggestions in the comments! Thanks!