Blog for my weaving and horticulture avocations

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I am the proud granddaughter of Hungarian and Slovakian Immigrants.
This blog is where I share some insights about my avocations of Horticulture and Handweaving.


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Sunday, September 11, 2016

SEAHAWK COLORS FOR BLUE FRIDAYS AND GAME DAYS

DOUBLE TWIST COWL soft Merino wool and Tencel
sized for small neck, I will also be making more with these yarns in other sizes.



SINGLE LOOP COWL with a little sparkle
 lush Rayon chenille
perfect for Blue Fridays at the office
SOLD, but making more soon.
double loop cowl with some sparkle and plaid effects



Soft Merino and Tencel scarf
TWO available now.
One sold, one left.




Lush warm cuddly Rayon chenille scarf
TWO available
one sold, one left

another chenille with plaid effects. 


Rayon Chenille warm, sporty scarf.

Saturday, August 20, 2016

GARDENING? OR WEAVING?

It is getting past gardening season, though I do have to keep watering so everything doesn't die in this drought....and it takes up so much time--Aargh!

But it is definitely weaving and felting season. 
And here is a preview of this fall's sale: 


More previews on Barb Child's website above, 
scroll to see her slide show of some of this year's artists. 




Tuesday, March 1, 2016

SPRING HELLEBORE IN OUR GARDEN

Our mild winter ( and maybe last summer's heat and drought?) has provided us with some bright and early color in our gardens this year. 
one of my favorites, I call it a reverse picotee.


The Hellebores especially have been amazing. I've had some interesting blooms from seedlings, too. And for once there is very little disease on them. I hope I'm not speaking too soon with this and last week's deluges. Stay away boytritis!  And with the hail today, there is a reason these face downwards.
white double clump
white double
     
Anemone flowered clump


   
Anemone flowered 



seedling white
seedling grown from one found in a pot 
of Anemone from Edelweiss love these veins.
                           


                               


My clear yellow single from
Heronswood many years ago.
old yellow
                                                                                   





First double available
from Heronswood way back when
don't want to remember what I paid
First time to have a seedling from
that first pink double






Love these picotees
picotee


Mark Hinton's double




Monday, February 1, 2016

FALL AND WINTER IN THE GARDENS 2015 - 2016

It was a mild winter with a small exception. 

Last November we had some sudden cold days right after the fall rains started the plants into a growing cycle after their very droughty summer.  I was not allowed out in the garden after my stem cell transplant because my immunity was wiped out with the pre transplant chemo.  Fortunately my wonderful caregiver, my husband Frank,  was also up for some hasty garden care in addition to all the housekeeping and cooking he was doing.
so out side he went whenever the weather forecast was for low temps to protect one main plant--the Euphorbia stygiana--which had lots of new tip growth that would be susceptible to the 28 degree nights.  Out came the Christmas lights spread under the plant with a couple sheets over the top. That little extra warmth really worked as the new undamaged growth in spring attests.

Euphorbia stygiana with
fall new growth
cold night protection
with old Christmas lights



But backing up a month to October. 
I was released from SCCA Oct 17th and did not have to stay in downtown housing any longer. This was so much easier on Frank for cooking and caring for me at home. 
But I was still VERY fragile and definitely not allowed out in the gardens for fear of fungal spores etc. in the air. 
There my gardens sat. Not only had very little gardening taken place since July, but no way could I get out to do any fall clean up.

Rescue came in the form of our wonderful horticultural community, called together by Walt Bubelis, one of my hort professors from Edmonds CC. 
On Oct 20th, 20 volunteers of former students, many of which are professional horticulturists, spent all day on a Sunday, cleaning up, transplanting, replanting, cutting back and all the various other fall clean up tasks in my garden. 
I watched from inside the house going from window to window,  as they worked and hauled load after load of old biomass down the hill to the brush piles.  

With much gratitude, as I waited for Spring and my doctors' ok to get back out in the dirt, I could look out all winter and see the much nicer, tidied up gardens. 


                              











 

     

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

GO HAWKS! AND OTHER WEAVING STORIES.........

January 2016, I'm getting back to weaving with a vengeance.  I finished the Piano scarf on the 12 shaft Bergman and then quickly sold the loom. It didn't fit me well and was too heavy and bulky for me. But my grandson's piano teacher got the scarf! 

So I found another 12 shaft for sale- a J Made loom which takes a lot of figuring out to get it up and running. For now I put an 8 shaft drall design on it and I have promised 3 red scarves in this pattern. But I'm not sure I'm comfortable that I have the tension down pat. The shafts just aren't lifting evenly. It needs tweaking, so I'll probably weave a small towel to get used to it before putting on my good tencel yarn.  I have three other cool designs in the queue for this loom, so it better work out. 

BUT THE SEAHAWKS ARE DOING IT AGAIN! 
And now I have orders for some scarves in blue and green. So my other looms are warped up for those.  As soon as those are finished I also need to warp up one loom with the cute sparkly cowls that are great for office wear on Blue Fridays! ( picture coming soon)  See more Seahawk colored scarves below and here.

And then just in case I need to do the red scarves on my Mighty Wolf loom, I need to finish the warp that has been on there all year. I was out of a color I needed and ordered that, so I can get to work on those scarves after finishing the Seahawk ones. Promised one of these to my college roomate. 

Wonder if I have enough to do to keep me busy until gardening season? 

double weave block on the
12 shaft Bergman
doubleweave chenille block piano scarf
figuring out the tie up on the 12 shaft J Made loom



Merino/ tencel on the Louet loom

three finished and ready. Two available $50.

twisting fringes



starting the Chenille scarves on the Baby Wolf loom.


Saturday, August 22, 2015

Sharing Steve Mohr's Blog: Worst part of having Myeloma

sharing because this is so well put and a lot of how I feel.

http://www.myelomabeacon.com/headline/2015/08/21/mohrs-myeloma-musings-reflections/

Mohr’s Myeloma Musings: Reflections

7 CommentsBy 
Published: Aug 21, 2015 12:44 pm

During a recent conversation I had with a friend, he un­ex­pected­ly asked me what has been the worst part of having multiple myeloma. For­tu­nate­ly, his cell phone rang before I could answer the ques­tion. It saved me from giv­ing an answer to a ques­tion I have never given much thought to.
At various times since then, I have reflected on what has been the worst aspect of living with multiple myeloma.
While I consider myself a reflective person, think­ing back on past ex­per­i­ences of living with this disease is some­thing I have avoided. My attitude has been to look forward, attempting to live as normal a life as possible.
For the most part, I have been able to do that because every treatment regimen I have undergone so far has been successful. I find it foolhardy to try and think ahead and anticipate what will happen next with this dis­ease and plot a course of action to deal with each possible scenario.
As I pondered my friend's question, though, I wondered if he wanted to know what the worst aspect was phys­i­cally, mentally, or emotionally.
Physically, this is an easy answer. I have stated several times in previous columns that the physical chal­lenges I have experienced with multiple myeloma pale in comparison to what many suffer from with this dis­ease. This was reinforced after I recently read Tom Brokaw's book, "A Good Life Interrupted," and learned of the debilitating back pain he endured. I have suffered nothing physically that comes close to compare to that.
Having said that, there is nothing that I have been through physically that compares to the first eight days of my autologous stem cell transplant experience in June 2014. I went in with a macho attitude of being able to handle anything that the procedure involved. I brazenly told my doctor beforehand that I would set a record (11 days) for the shortest hospital stay at my cancer center. Looking back, I now know what was behind his smile at my boastful prediction.
On about the fifth day I remember thinking that, if it was time for me to meet my maker, I was fully prepared to go. I was discharged after 16 days, the average stay for a patient undergoing a stem cell transplant.
Complete recovery from the physical effects of the stem cell transplant has been slower than I anticipated. It wasn't until this past May that I no longer had bouts of fatigue, and that the neuropathy subsided to barely being noticeable. I am thankful that I now feel better than I have since being diagnosed three and a half years ago.
While the worst of the physical effects of multiple myeloma are minimal and can be managed, such is not the case mentally and emotionally.
Mentally, my cognitive skills and abilities have not seen the recovery from the fog of chemo brain that I suf­fered during induction therapy and the stem cell transplant. I’m struggling to recall names and facts, deliver key points in public speaking engagements, focus on details of tasks, and generally concentrate for long periods of time. There is no history of dementia in my family, so I vainly blame it on the 10 mg of Revlimid(lenalidomide) I take daily as part of my maintenance therapy.
Emotionally, since being diagnosed with multiple myeloma, I have become far more concerned about what others think of me. This is a complete change in thinking for me. Through 29 years as a high school bas­ket­ball coach and six years as a school district superintendent before being diagnosed with myeloma, I de­vel­oped a pretty thick skin and could not afford to be overly concerned about what others thought of me. During the last three and half years, however, I have often wondered if others see me as less than whole, an invalid, contaminated. These questions of self-worth were reinforced when I learned that some of my staff, with the best of intentions, chose not to come to me as they should have to address issues because of what I was going through early in my treatment.
So, in summary, the answer to my friend’s simple, direct question is easy. For me, the worst part of living with multiple myeloma is the mental aspect, the decline in my cognitive skills.
While reflecting on my past and pondering my future, I need to point out that I’m doing far better now than I did before my diagnosis three and a half years ago. I am hopeful I will become a statistical exception to the prognosis of 8 to 10 years I was given then.

Saturday, August 15, 2015

TIPS ON TALKING TO A CANCER PATIENT / SURVIVOR



I LIKE THIS ARTICLE FROM TODAY'S EVERETT HERALD

One thing I would add:
If you want to do something that would help
please offer a specific thing or two you are willing to do
rather than just telling the survivor to call you,
 --or that you will do anything. -- Really?
We know others have a life and are busy, too.
No way is it easy to request something
that may not be what someone is comfortable doing.


http://www.heraldnet.com/article/20150815/LIVING/150819614 --AUGUST 15, 2015

Tips on talking with someone who has cancer
By Mary Kay Jurovcik

Special to The Herald

There are times in our lives when we know exactly what to say.
When someone gets married or has a baby or graduates from college, we say, “Congratulations.” When we meet someone new, we say, “Nice to meet you.” When someone loses a loved one, we say, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
When someone is diagnosed with cancer, we often don’t know what to say. Just starting a conversation can be difficult because there is no presupposed way to talk to someone who has cancer.
It’s important to remember that the cancer survivor is still the same person you knew before, and much about that person has not changed. But even for someone who you are close to, discussing a cancer diagnosis and treatment isn’t likely something you have practiced.

I’d like to offer these tips on how to talk to someone who is living with cancer:

Let the survivor guide the conversation.
Some survivors will give you every detail about their diagnosis and treatment. Some would prefer to remain private about what’s happening to them.
I suggest following the survivor’s lead when it comes to discussing the details of the disease.
I’m quite open about my experience, but I know some survivors who consider the details of their diagnosis and treatment to be on a need-to-know basis.
If they say they are OK, they are OK.
My survivor friend Lauren says when she told people she was doing fine while in treatment, they didn’t believe her. They would press her by asking, “I mean, how are you really doing?”
If a survivor tells you she is doing OK, she probably means it. Maybe she is masking her true feelings for your sake, but I’d suggest taking her at face value. Sometimes, we just don’t feel like talking about it.
So…

Talk about something else.
One of the hardest things about cancer is that it takes over your whole life. Sometimes it’s the last thing in the world you want to talk about. Visiting with a survivor and talking about everything except cancer can be so helpful.
When I was in treatment, my friends sometimes worried about complaining or talking about mundane things. Often, there was nothing I wanted to hear about more than their regular, non-cancer lives.

Be careful of comparisons.
Pretty much everyone knows someone who’s had breast cancer, so when I discussed my diagnosis with others, they often wanted to tell me about the person in their lives who had the disease.
My friend Karen, also a survivor, remarked to me once that it was least helpful to hear stories about people who had passed from the disease.
While it’s natural to want to relate to the survivor by sharing other peoples’ experiences, remember that every patient, every person and every experience is different. The details of your neighbor’s or friend’s diagnosis and treatment might be quite different from the survivor you’re hearing from now.

Advice is great when it’s requested.
I got some wonderful advice while I was in treatment from other survivors and from friends and family. But, there is a lot of less helpful and misguided advice for cancer patients out there, too. If survivors are receiving treatment, they are being cared for by a team of medical professionals.
At Providence, we don’t just have oncologists. We have access to nutritionists, financial counselors, therapists, classes and support groups.
While sending articles about new treatments or ideas might seem helpful, it might be more than the survivor is able to process. Wait for the survivor to ask for advice, and if you choose to share something, be careful that it comes from a reputable source.

Sometimes the sun isn’t shining.
Especially when treatment ends, survivors are sometimes expected to just be “OK” — whatever that means. Survivorship can be hard, and it can be difficult to remain positive all the time. Even for generally cheery people, the weight of cancer can bring on the gray clouds.
Bear in mind that the survivor’s life has changed dramatically since his diagnosis. Accept that he might be blue sometimes, and that your support is still vitally important.
Be careful about minimizing the survivor’s feelings by offering artificially positive statements like, “It could be worse,” or “It will be better soon.” This may or may not be true, but it probably won’t improve the survivor’s mood.

Reach out.
I had many people tell me to reach out to them when I needed help, but while in treatment, I was so drained, just looking at my phone seemed like a colossal task. Don’t wait for the survivor to call you. Reach out to him or her. Call, text, show up (if that’s OK with the survivor). Treatment can be very isolating, and survivors often just need friends to come spend time.


Mary Kay Jurovcik is a Lake Stevens wife, mother, writer and breast cancer survivor. At the age of 33, with no family history or prior experience with cancer, she was diagnosed with stage 2B, HER2+ breast cancer. Jurovcik is documenting her journey on a personal website, BoldSurvivor.com, and contributes to the Providence Regional Cancer Partnership website.

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

HOW NOT TO SAY THE WRONG THING



A CONCRETE WAY TO THINK ABOUT WHAT WE ALL KNOW BUT  OFTEN STRUGGLE WITH--
from an LA Times article by Susan Silk: 




When Susan had breast cancer, we heard a lot of lame remarks, but our favorite came from one of Susan's colleagues. She wanted, she needed, to visit Susan after the surgery, but Susan didn't feel like having visitors, and she said so. Her colleague's response? "This isn't just about you."

"It's not?" Susan wondered. "My breast cancer is not about me? It's about you?"

The same theme came up again when our friend Katie had a brain aneurysm. She was in intensive care for a long time and finally got out and into a step-down unit. She was no longer covered with tubes and lines and monitors, but she was still in rough shape. A friend came and saw her and then stepped into the hall with Katie's husband, Pat. "I wasn't prepared for this," she told him. "I don't know if I can handle it."

This woman loves Katie, and she said what she did because the sight of Katie in this condition moved her so deeply. But it was the wrong thing to say. And it was wrong in the same way Susan's colleague's remark was wrong.

Susan has since developed a simple technique to help people avoid this mistake. It works for all kinds of crises: medical, legal, financial, romantic, even existential. She calls it the Ring Theory

Draw a circle. This is the center ring. In it, put the name of the person at the center of the current trauma. For Katie's aneurysm, that's Katie. Now draw a larger circle around the first one. In that ring put the name of the person next closest to the trauma. In the case of Katie's aneurysm, that was Katie's husband, Pat. Repeat the process as many times as you need to. In each larger ring put the next closest people. Parents and children before more distant relatives. Intimate friends in smaller rings, less intimate friends in larger ones. When you are done you have a Kvetching Order. One of Susan's patients found it useful to tape it to her refrigerator.

Here are the rules. The person in the center ring can say anything she wants to anyone, anywhere. She can kvetch and complain and whine and moan and curse the heavens and say, "Life is unfair" and "Why me?" That's the one payoff for being in the center ring.

Everyone else can say those things too, but only to people in larger rings. When you are talking to a person in a ring smaller than yours, someone closer to the center of the crisis, the goal is to help. Listening is often more helpful than talking. But if you're going to open your mouth, ask yourself if what you are about to say is likely to provide comfort and support. If it isn't, don't say it. Don't, for example, give advice. People who are suffering from trauma don't need advice. They need comfort and support. So say, "I'm sorry" or "This must really be hard for you" or "Can I bring you a pot roast?" Don't say, "You should hear what happened to me" or "Here's what I would do if I were you." And don't say, "This is really bringing me down."

If you want to scream or cry or complain, if you want to tell someone how shocked you are or how icky you feel, or whine about how it reminds you of all the terrible things that have happened to you lately, that's fine. It's a perfectly normal response. Just do it to someone in a bigger ring.

Comfort IN, dump OUT.

There was nothing wrong with Katie's friend saying she was not prepared for how horrible Katie looked, or even that she didn't think she could handle it. The mistake was that she said those things to Pat. She dumped IN.

Complaining to someone in a smaller ring than yours doesn't do either of you any good. On the other hand, being supportive to her principal caregiver may be the best thing you can do for the patient.

Most of us know this. Almost nobody would complain to the patient about how rotten she looks. Almost no one would say that looking at her makes them think of the fragility of life and their own closeness to death. In other words, we know enough not to dump into the center ring. Ring Theory merely expands that intuition and makes it more concrete:
Don't just avoid dumping into the center ring, avoid dumping into any ring smaller than your own.

Remember, you can say whatever you want if you just wait until you're talking to someone in a larger ring than yours.

And don't worry. You'll get your turn in the center ring. You can count on that.

Susan Silk is a clinical psychologist. Barry Goldman is an arbitrator and mediator and the author of "The Science of Settlement: Ideas for Negotiators."