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A saggy collar adorning a finely knit short-sleeved sweater. A bulky cardigan with a hood that refused to stay up in the wind. A woven sweater whose oversized neck opening drooped off my shoulders. Not the finest list of accomplishments from my first year of design attempts. But not incorrigible either. Once I got around…
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I seldom wear socks in the summer, but it seems that whenever I did this year, a new hole resulted. By the time the winter winds were whistling through the eaves, my mending basket was full of holey socks. Thirteen socks to be precise. More than were to be found in my drawer. Had these…
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It seemed a brilliant idea. I could use an enormous cone of fine cream-coloured wool I had picked up somewhere along the way (most likely Village Green Thrift Shop) as a warp for a series of Christmas scarves. We had used a similar-coloured fine cotton as the background for multiple variations on one threading in…
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It’s my understanding that the irony of still life paintings is that, in capturing a frozen moment in time, they speak to the fleeting nature of life. Not unlike, it seems to me, the way shelling my popcorn points to the imminent onset of winter and, by extension, the ceaseless turning of the wheel of…
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Our Sunday School recently explored the story of manna in the wilderness. On their long trek back from Egypt to the Promised Land, the Hebrew people found themselves hungry. As seems to have been their (our) way, they complained. God responded by sending manna from heaven — a bread which emerged from the dew in…
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It’s here. The season when, the classic joke would have it, you daren’t leave your vehicle unlocked lest you find yourself saddled with yet more zucchini. Zucchini are abundant. As are beans. And cucumbers. And tomatoes. Why then, am I still prone to hoard them, even when it burdens me with the stress of frantically…
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A couple months ago, I noticed a vexatiously familiar odour emanating from our front entryway. Cat pee. I followed my nose to my husband’s moccasins, then down to a small wet patch on the rug. A day or two later, the situation recurred – this time with my son’s running shoes and a second mat.…
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My go-to footwear has long been Doc Martens. I have moved from low-cut boots to shoes, but otherwise little has changed over the past three decades. They are comfortable, sturdy, durable shoes. I believe four pairs have lasted me those thirty years, though it may be up to five. Alas, Doc Martens are not the…
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The subtle succulence of a spinach leaf. The tangy bite of green onion. The mild bitterness of minced young dandelion greens. The aromatics of fresh coriander. The hint of sweetness in a caragana blossom. There is no equivalent to the flavour palette of the first salads of spring, especially on the heels of a winter…
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The friendly faces emerging through the fallen leaves in the front yard warm my heart. There are columbines, wood violets, northern bedstraw, Canada anemone, tall bluebells, and so many more. At this point they are discrete and dispersed, but soon they will spread to amply fill the space – in spite of the fact that…
A Homespun Life 