Counting acorns

Last week was April vacation week for Maine schools, so our great niece Violet requested a sleepover at our house.

More specifically, seven-year-old Violet requested a TWO-night sleepover.

We were happy to accommodate her request. Violet is a delight and we always enjoy her visits.

Soon after she arrived on Tuesday morning, Ken asked her if she'd like to earn a little money.

Violet, of course, said yes.

For the past several days, Uncle Ken had been hard at work raking our lawns from last fall's leaves. That part he doesn't mind terribly, but picking up acorns as he rakes the leaves causes him much stress, not to mention tired muscles.

He told Violet he'd give her 1¢ per acorn if she'd help him as he raked. She was all for it.

Ken found a "tool" for her to use to dig the acorns out of the ground. It was a key for prying open a paint can.

Violet went outside and immediately got to work. I soon joined her with my own tool, a kitchen can opener.

Soon we'd devised a system: We'd fill a Tupperware bucket with acorns, take it to the porch, dump out the contents, and count the acorns into small groups of ten each. Then we'd tally the total, Violet would record it on a notepad, and we'd start filling the Tupperware bucket again.

Our system worked beautifully, we did a lot of chatting, and Violet saw the pennies add up.

Before we could believe it, Violet had a big yellow pail full of acorns, $12.20 worth. She was proud, I was relieved, Ken was elated to be free of picking up the acorns himself.

Violet casually placed her tally sheet on the kitchen counter, where her Uncle Ken couldn't help but see it, and awaited her payment.

Ken is one to pay his bills promptly, so Violet soon had newly-earned money in her Disney handbag.

 The next afternoon Violet and I decided to pick up a few more acorns. I told her to write "Wednesday" at the top of a fresh tally sheet, so she promptly wrote "Wensday." Then we again tackled the acorns.

This sessions of acorn-picking was shorter, but Violet managed to earn another $6.82.

Our lawns are not entirely free of acorns, but the acorns are much scarcer now. Best of all, Violet earned some money through good, hard work, and she put her budding arithmetic skills to good use. It was a win-win situation.

Christmas in April, for me

Yesterday I drove down to Biddeford to check out the newly-opened Saco River Yarns. The shop is located in one of the big, old, former textile mills in Biddeford, next door to the Saco River Dyehouse.

I'd been wanting to check out the yarn shop. Its grand opening was last Saturday, but I had to miss it because of this darned sinus infection that has been keeping me subdued for the past two months.

I wasn't entirely sure exactly what I'd find at the yarn shop, but I wasn't disappointed. Although their main shop room is still getting stocked with yarns and knitting supplies, the back room is where most of the excitement can be found. In the back room, pictured above, are shopping bags, dozens and dozens of them, full of yarns from the dyehouse. These yarns are technically seconds, but they're still fine quality. Best of all, they're sold by the pound.

In fact, they're sold for $3/pound.

My kind of deal.

Two other knitters were already pawing through the bags when I arrived. They quickly explained to me the deal: All the yarn that strikes your fancy for $3/pound, grab a shopping bag and start making your selections....One of the workers at the dyehouse repeatedly brought in more bags of yarn while we were making our choices.

I had no idea how many pounds of  yarn I'd chosen, but it looked like enough to keep me off the streets for the next several weeks.

I went to the cash register and helped the clerk put my selections onto the scales. I'd chosen five pounds of yarn.

Then the clerk asked, "Do you knit for the Maine Mitten Project?" I replied that I did, indeed, and that I'd cast on for a pair of new mittens just yesterday morning.

"In that case, " she said, "you get one pound of yarn free."

All I need to do is take the finished mittens to the yarn shop, and I'll be given another free pound of yarn.

Sounds good to me. So I handed over my $12 plus tax, came home happy, and photographed these gorgeous beauties.

I know one of the yarn brands at the dyehouse is Quince and Co. That brand has become well known in the past couple of years.

I hope the dyehouse and yarn shop are a big success, because it's wonderful to see new life breathed into these big, old mill buildings that have sat idle for so long.

My latest experiment

I've known for some time now that it's possible, even sensible and cost-saving, to make one's own laundry soap.

I guess I kept clinging to the notion that if I used "store-bought" soap, my laundry would be cleaner.

Then I saw the Duggars on the Today Show two or three weeks ago, and Mrs. Duggar extoled the virtues of making one's own laundry soap.

This gave me the courage I needed, almost....

So I googled "homemade laundry soap," read some reviews, and went to WalMart to purchase the necessary ingredients.

I almost lost my courage while perusing the laundry soap aisle. All of those prepackaged laundry soaps, all of those pretty packages, looked so...superior to anything I could concoct.

Just after I grabbed some Borax and some washing soda and was reaching for the bar of Fels-Naptha, a fellow shopper, a lady, said to me, "You must be making your own laundry soap."

 I told her I'd never  made any before and was trying to decide if I wanted to attempt it or not. She went on to explain that she'd been making her own laundry soap for years and that yes, definitely, handmade laundry soap gets the clothes as clean as any commercial brand.

She noticed I was about to grab a bar of Fels-Naptha, though, and suggested I use a bar of Zote instead. She feels it does a much better job of cleaning the clothes.

I'd never noticed "Zote" in the laundry detergent aisle, and it's no wonder, since it was hidden on a bottom shelf with the large containers of liquid detergent, no where near the Fels-Naptha.

The lady added, "You save so much money by making your own laundry detergent, you know." I told her I'd use the savings for yarns for my knitting habit. Then she said, "You can also make your own dishwasher detergent."

I said I'd give that a try once I'd survived this first experiment. I can handle only so much excitement at one time.

Once I got back home I googled "homemade laundry soap" again, selected a recipe calling for 2 cups of Borax, 2 cups of washing soda, 2 cups of baking soda, and 4 oz. of Zote.

I used a simple hand grater to grate the 1/3 bar of Zote (a 14 oz. bar that set me back a whopping 97 cents. I've seen Zote for sale on line for three or four times that price.) The grating went quickly and easily, and the grated Zote looked so yummy, like pink coconut, that I had all I could do not to eat a handful of it. But I restrained myself.

I mixed together the baking soda, the washing soda, and the Borax, then I added one cup of this mixture to my blender with 1 cup of the grated Zote. I kept doing this until all of the Zote had been nicely added into the dry ingredients, as you can see in this bowl on the left.

It's possible to make a liquid laundry soap, but the thought of storing a large container of liquid soap doesn't appeal to me at all. The dry powder is much more sensible, in my view.

Here's the kicker: one load of laundry takes ONE TABLESPOON of this laundry powder. For heavily soiled laundry, two tablespoons might be in order.

I've done 4-5 loads of laundry with my new detergent, and my clothes are coming out nice and clean. I don't see that the Tide I've used for decades does any better than my homemade soap does.

I'm curious to see how long this first batch lasts. I've got plenty of Borax, washing soda, baking soda, and Zote left over to make several more batches.

Nuttin' much

 I'm officially tired of winter.

We did get enough snow in February/March to give us a good base for cross-country skiing, so we've gone out onto the woods roads a couple of times. I enjoy our excursions in the quiet forest. We find plenty of evidence of creatures there, but none shows his/her face when we're out and about.

But it's time for spring now, so I hope Mother Nature will bring it on. Despite the foot or more of snow still on the ground, I have two little crocuses bravely blooming against the foundation wall, in front of my kitchen.

I've been knitting, per usual. I'm sorry to bore those who don't care about knitting with my little creations, but what else do I have to talk about, really?

At the top is the Mischa dress, which I made for our dearest friends' first grandchild, Phoebe. I made it a size 1; Phoebe is now 3 1/2 months old, so she has some growing to do before it fits her.

It was an enjoybable pattern, especially the bodice, which looks complicated but is actually quite simple. The skirt did get a tad boring, I'll admit, with knitting a stockinette stitch 'round and 'round seemingly endlessly.

No sooner had I finished the Mischa dress when I came across the "Double Breasted Baby Sweater." That's what it's called, anyway, although it's not actually double-breasted. (To be more accurate, it was called the DBBS, but the designer has recently renamed it the Otto Day Sweater.) I love to knit cables, and these cables are fantastic! I first knit it in white but ran into a serious problem as I worked my way up to the sleeve openings: the stitch counts were way off. I contacted the designer (and was surprised to discover she lives in Portland, Maine, of all places). She said she thought she had corrected the numbers but would would take another look at her directions and get back to me in a couple of days. Meanwhile, I gathered my wits about me and managed to make the corrections myself.

After finishing the white sweater, I decided to make one in pale lavender to go with the Mischa. The Mischa has pale lavender accents. Phoebe will look quite fetching in her little outfit, I suspect.

So that's done.

Earlier this week I packed up the little critters in the chair, four baby bunnies, a mouse, and a puppy, and sent them to their new home in Savannah, GA. I hope they like it down there. It was a little sad to see them go.

These photos are terribly out of order, as you've noticed by now, but I guess I'll leave them as is.

Now, about these crochet-covered Easter eggs. Who in her right mind would spend time crocheting a cover for an egg, you're surely asking.

I would, that's who. I think they're downright elegant. The designer of this pattern calls for boiled eggs tucked into the crocheted "pocket", but I'm using fake porcelain and wooden eggs because I want to reuse the eggs year after year, Easter after Easter.

That's what I've been up to while I wait for the snow to melt. Oh, and there's talk of another snowstorm arriving this coming Tuesday, the 19th. Yea.

Coincidence?

This past Friday, in the middle of the night as I was trying to will myself back to sleep, I suddenly thought of a student I'd had in class way back in 1969-70. His name was Joe.

I hadn't thought of Joe in many years, and there was no reason why I should. I'd known many students between 1968 and 2004, when I retired, so it wasn't a surprise to me that Joe had not entered my thoughts. I'd seen him once since 1970, when Ken and I were eating at a Portland restaurant and Joe was our waiter.

That incident was probably at least 30 years ago.

But I remembered yesterday that Joe had sprung to mind the night before, so I decided to see if I could locate him on White Pages. I found someone with his name living in Cape Elizabeth, aged 60, and decided that was probably the Joe I once knew. Then I forgot about him again.

This morning I sat reading the Sunday paper. Imagine my shock when there, in the obituaries, was listed Joe, the Joe I once knew, age 60, a resident of Cape Elizabeth. Joe had died unexpectedly on Friday, February 22.

Is this merely a coincidence? I don't know. What do you think?

Blizzard of 2013 vs. Sinusitis of 2013

So the Blizzard of 2013 did materialize, just as predicted, and we were blessed with about 30 inches of light, dry snow.

Ken said it was easy to remove the snow because of its lightness, but then there was the wind, which howled the entire day of the storm.

Ken finally gave up and finished clearing the driveway the next day, which was sunny and beautiful.

I did most of my picture-taking from my kitchen window, I admit. It was warm and cosy inside, after all.

Finally, around noontime the next day, I ventured outside with my camera and snapped a few additional photos.

What I didn't realize the storm would bring, in addition to the snow and cold, was a nasty bout of acute sinusitis for me.

I spent most of last week enduring the headaches, the toothaches, the sleepless nights, telling myself I'd surely feel better then next day. When I finally had to admit the next day just wasn't getting here, I saw the doctor, got myself some antibiotics and other paraphernalia, and am now, at long last, beginning to feel human again.

Excuse the belated Valentine's header. I meant to post this on Valentine's Day but was too busy indulging in self-pity.

The waiting is wearing me down

The "crippling blizzard" which is forecast for coastal Maine hasn't shown itself yet. It's not due until this evening, in fact, or maybe late this afternoon, and will play itself out tomorrow afternoon.

If it arrives at all, that is.

I've seen too many major storms forecast for Maine, only to learn the storm has gone out to sea before reaching us. I know I should be thankful for that, but we do need a good snowstorm, and I love the beauty of fresh, deep snow on the landscape. A chance to do some snowshoeing and cross-country skiing wouldn't hurt, either.

I remember several years ago a storm such as this approaching one was predicted for Maine. I had visions of being able to leave our house only by crawling out second-story windows. The storm, however, proved to be a puny little thing. We could still use our normal routes of exiting the house!

So we'll see what happens. Meanwhile, we're getting a smaller snowstorm, unrelated to the big one, this morning. Several inches have fallen and the snow continues to come down steadily. A 19-car pile up has closed Interstate 295 near Falmouth, so this "little" storm isn't to be taken lightly at all.

My nerves are slightly frayed. The blizzard has been forecast since Monday, each updated forecast being a smidge more hysterical that the one before it.

Ken spent much of yesterday gassing up the tractor, snowblower, and generator. I got up at 5:00 this morning, because I never can sleep late if a storm is approaching. I decided I'd better do a load of dishes in the dishwasher, wash two loads of clothes, and make a beef barley soup. So those tasks are done. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to get out the vacuum cleaner next....

I was supposed to go to Boston with a couple of friends today. That trip had to be cancelled, of course. The annual Valentine's party that my sorority  throws for the residents of a local nursing home, scheduled for tomorrow, has been cancelled as well. I'm disappointed by that, since the seniors enjoy the party and the killer Bingo games we play, games which result (due to, shall I say it? a little cheating on our parts) in every senior receiving two, sometimes three prizes. Also, yesterday I baked the shortbread Valentine cookies for the party.

The entirety of coastal and somewhat-inland Maine has been cancelled for today: schools are shut, meetings are called off, even businesses are closed.

We'll see what the world looks like tomorrow morning. Meanwhile, I have my knitting.