Where's My Stitches?

Checked out the most fun looking book from the library yesterday: 200 Stitch Patterns for Baby Blankets, written by Jan Eaton.

Though I am only crude and boring at knitting, I am more than happy to throw my efforts at crochet patterns of all kinds, which this book has plenty of.

One of the first real projects I made for myself: a Ruffled Scarf

 
Years ago a kindly grade school teacher taught me how to finger crochet the basic chain. It took me just as many years to actually pick up a hook and some yarn and learn to go beyond that simple chain. 

I started with the simple things: Blankets mostly, flat pieces that needed no pattern other than going back and forth. Then I hit the net to look up videos, and learned the basic stitches. And, finally, it occurred to me to look in the library catalog for pattern books.

A soft baby blanket I made with chenille yarn

Once I got those books into my grubby little paws, it was party time.


I made ruffled scarves, fancy baby blankets, attempted a stuffed animal (failed), played with the stitch patterns off a very cute little number that would never look good on me (I am, at least, realistic), and a tote bag, which is now being cannibalized for another project I'm making.

The center square of my most recent project, a sofa throw

I figure hey, if I get any good, maybe I can make some cash off of it. Especially as my quilting skills are rubbish right now (I had a great-aunt who made brilliant quilts, Christmas stockings, Christmas tree blankets to cover the floor under the tree, etc. Great stuff.)


Doubtless I'll be back all excited about a new pattern I've learned. Meanwhile, I'll keep plugging away.

On Bees

Aha! Here is what I should have been doing today: writing the follow up post to my last blog entry. I thought that maybe I should have been doing something, just couldn't remember what it was. A senior moment, for a not-so-senior person. Scary.

Leatherwood blooms

 So, for those of you who don't know, Tasmania is pretty famous for it's Leatherwood honey. It's apparently quite common for local beekeepers to be up in the wee hours loading up hives to take advantage of the opportunity to collect that rich, floral smelling treat. Eucryphia Lucida, otherwise known as the leatherwood tree, grows in the the temperate rainforests on the west side of the state, and flowers December to January. Beekeepers have said to have hives stacked nine boxes high in this season. Ironically, the local market for this famous honey is pretty weak; beekeepers would have to export it to make any real cash.

Capeweed is a notorious plant pest

 So, from there, I shall segue into pollen, an important source of proteins for the bees. Interestingly, the pollen from the leatherwood tree has only a moderate ranking when it comes to general "goodness" for the bees. Brassica pollens apparently offer a whole lot more in protein, so if you are thinking of raising bees, perhaps you might think of custom seed mixes to sow in fields (if you've got them of course. Fields, that is.) Strangely enough, capeweed, an almost impossible to eradicate weed pest in this state, is the Rolls Royce of all pollens.



Now, pollen isn't the only thing bees collect. Field bees (the bees that leave the hive to go foraging) will collect four things: nectar, pollen, water, and propolis (plant resins). Pollen and nectar are used to feed the bees, and propolis is used to sticky up any cracks or crevices that the bees don't want in their hive (and boy, can they gum things up). Water is stored in cells and is used to keep the hive cool in the summer time. Seeing as the average hive temperature is about 37 degrees Celsius, on a hot summers day they can go through 4 liters of water to keep everything cool.

These bees are fanning at the entrance of the hive; air circulation is key to keeping the hive at the optimum temperature

Another interesting bee fact that I didn't know till a few weeks ago is that bees have five eyes. Count em, five! Two large compound eyes, and three small simple eyes, called ocelli, which are used for the poor light conditions within the hive. Bees are also unable to see the color red- no old fashioned roses for them, I guess. The three castes of bees can also be identified by their eyes. The drones (male bees) have enormous wrap around compound eyes. The workers (infertile female bees) have smaller eyes on the sides of their heads, and the queen, well, she's a little near sighted I guess; her eyes are slightly smaller than those of the workers.


I'll wrap this up for this evening, as it's time I started our supper. But I'll be back later in the week to share more brilliance on bees.


Ciao!

These Days of Learning

So, yesterday I went to my first beekeeping class! I came home so excited I couldn't actually bring myself to settle down and write, especially since I was barely contained from bouncing all over the room and the internet as I bragged about making my very own hive frame (all by myself!)

Look at what I made, Ma!

I was there for six hours, and although the official "teaching" only amounted to about 5 hours, I counted chatted with the other beeks and newbees as a learning experience as well. I remember walking in when I first arrived, seeing a load of old men, and thinking "Oh boy, I'm out of my league here", but it got better once I signed in and sat down. There were two other women, one learning about bees and the other with a proper bee addiction. The rest were men with gray hair. I was easily the youngest person in the room.

Now, normally I am shy to the extreme around strangers. It takes me a long time to warm up to people I don't know. The only person I recognized I didn't really know at all; he was the guy I was chatting to at the Launceston Show about beekeeping, and where I'd signed up for more information. But I realized that if I was to make any sort of connection with these people, I was going to have to play bold. So *gasp!* I introduced myself to the people sitting around me. All nice, interesting people. Throughout the class I even learned were many of them lived, and that two were near me, and one lived about ten minutes away from my friend. I even managed to arrange rides to and from the next classes. Go me!

Anyway. Not bad for a first class, lots of stuff to absorb for sure, but I feel that I probably would have had a harder time absorbing it if I hadn't been reading about it for a few weeks already. I think I did right to check out all those books from the library! At least I didn't' feel completely clueless when the words of trade started rolling off their tongues.

It was all basic stuff, but I learned that Australia is indeed still free of the Varroa mite, although Apis cerana (the Asian Honeybee) is now an epidemic in the country because of a sampling that came in on the mast of a yacht. Because A. cerana is the natural vector for the Varroa mite, they're really going to have to be on the look out for it, especially as they're considering allowing queen importation. I honestly hope they are extremely stringent in their quarantines. The most popular bee "breed" seems to be A. mellifera, the European Honeybee. (There are a few other species, but the three names I've heard and read about are from Russia, the Caucasian mountains, and the aggressive African bees.)

There's a hopping mouse that can squeeze through 10mm spaces. Some Tassie beekeepers will make their hive entrances 9mm just to eliminate the chances of these little guys getting in.

I also learned that Tasmania has a hopping mouse that can squeeze through 10mm spaces to get into hives, that a hive on a hot summer day will go through 4 liters of water, that the bees will allow the invasion of a bumble bee into the hive just so they can kill it and strip the hairs off it's body to mix with their capping wax, and that you should never put your hand under a hive until you've rattled a stick under it, just in case a snake was hanging out in the warmth (and sometimes the snakes get in the hive too... so watch out!)


Since this is becoming a long post, I think I shall end it here, and come back with more later in a new post. It also means I've got the intro stuff out of the way and can focus on more specific things.

I Wanna Be A Beek!

My most favorite treat in the world is the raw honeycomb, liberally oozing with tasty, sweet honey, and chewy wax. It's like natural, honey flavored chewing gum.

Mmm, yummy honeycomb, the perfect snack

 Not too long ago, I asked a friend what she thought about about beekeeping. She seemed to think it was a great idea, because she and her man go through a lot of honey. Since we're pretty much in the same boat, I decided that beekeeping would be an interesting hobby to start (and it sounds like my friend has already picked out a spot for a hive!)

So I signed up for beekeeping courses. Well, a course. A three day course, to be exact, that starts on Saturday. Woohoo! I start officially learning about bees on the morrow! I'm so excited.

For the last couple weeks I was reading and researching anything involving bees. I've been learning primarily about the Langstroth hive, which is the typical square stacked box you think about when beekeeping is mentioned. I've also learned that the traditional idea of a beehive is a skep (basically a straw basket), and that another way is called the top bar hive, which seems to be a little easier than the Langstroth.

Kenyan Top Bar Hive

I've been learning about the structure of the hive, what bees eat, and the pests and diseases that bother them. Most of this info has come out of the For Dummies book on the subject, I admit, but it's a good start. I've joined groups on Facebook regarding beekeeping, and I've been trumpeting to the sky the fact that I'm ready, willing and SO EXCITED TO LEARN. 

Langstroth Hives

Believe me, you'll be hearing plenty more on THIS subject!

Down the Drain

Some of us may have experienced the event of losing something down the bathroom drain. A favorite earring usually is the case (for women, at least; no idea about you blokes). Mine wasn't so much a favorite, as it was one of my functional ones: A stainless steel stud. While washing up at the sink last night (well, this morning, at 2am), it decided to jump, and no, I have no idea how I managed to encourage it to do that. Zombie-ing around at 2am will do that to you.

So, well, bummer. Especially considering that I've managed to NOT lose anything down the drain since I was like, four. (I used to lose whole toothbrushes down the drain when I was four. That's something only a four-year-old can manage I think.)


My first thought, at 2 am: Dammit! Well, maybe I can get it with a magnet on a string.


My second thought: Um... stainless steel doesn't stick to magnets.


My third thought: I'll ask hubs to help tomorrow.


Then, as I went back to bed, I thought "You know, I really don't need to ask hubs for help, it's just a case of taking off the U-bend and retrieving the earring. It's not going anywhere, it can wait. How hard can it be?"


Apparently not hard at all. In fact, it was easy as pie. Hell, it was much easier than pie, because pie actually takes some skill and effort to make (whoever came up with the phrase easy as pie clearly had no idea what they were talking about).


Now, I've never done it before. I'm by no means any sort of plumber. I knew how to do it in theory, so I hit Google. A quick link later, and I had instructions (gotta love the internet). Turns out I hardly needed those, as when I finally got under the bathroom sink to take a look (and moved all the stuff.... and found a pan to catch the water that actually fit under the sink), I learned that I only had to twist off two PVC rings and out came the U-bend in the pipe, with a surge of nasty smelling water.


I shook the earring out into the pan, retrieved it, and took the section of pipe to the kitchen sink.


It was RANK. And coated with gunk. It was NASTY. Baking soda, vinegar, hot water, and liberal application of an old toothbrush took care of that though. Even got rid of almost all the smell. After that, it was merely a moment spent to slap it back into place and tighten the rings up again.


Voila! I didn't even need a pipe wrench. Go me!

Dirty Treasures

Few things are better than a baked potato topped with sour cream, shredded cheese, bacon, and chopped chives or onions. For me at least. I love baked potatoes, and down here, the Aussies have shops that will make them. Often they're called jacket potatoes, and they'll be piled high with sour cream, cheese, chopped onion, bacon, even pineapple, corn, or marinara sauce, depending on where you go and what you ask for. They are seriously hard to beat when you've got a rumble in your belly, and are seriously addictive (well, for at least a week or two).

So that brings me down to the actual subject: the humble potato. 

What would we do without the potato? I personally would be an unhappy camper if I had to go without (though they say you can't miss what you've never had... or something like that). Without the potatoes we wouldn't have oh... potato chips (crisps), fries (chips), hash browns, potato noodles (otherwise known as glass noodles, they are made with potato flour or starch or something and they are translucent and jelly like and although they look like alien brains, they are freaking awesome in stir fries!) We wouldn't have potatoes to go with the roast beast for Christmas, or mashed potatoes to put beside the turkey at Thanksgiving, or home fries to have at breakfast on the weekends. You'd have to find something else to make that beef stew tasty, and there would be no shepherds pie without the mashed potato topping.

So, early on in the planning stages of my gardening adventures (or fiascoes) I decided that we should attempt to grow potatoes. This was encouraged by the first really big investment in gardening: the renting of two plots in the local community garden. They're each about 12x18, and they provide plenty of space for three adults to grow plenty of food for themselves throughout the spring, summer and fall. My plan was that these gardening spaces would be supplemented by what I could grow around the house, so between the three spaces, I should have plenty to store for the cold seasons.


So, if you don't know much about growing potatoes, it's pretty simple. The tuber (the part you eat) is what you plant. You leave the tuber in a dry, warm place without light to "chit" (sprout from the eyes). All potatoes, when left in our larder, will sprout, even the ones from the store, so I bought two sacks of seed potatoes (Dutch Creams and Kennebecs), and left them to chit in the kitchen. I think I had covered them with some paper just to eliminate the light, and I then let them be for a few weeks.


The potato, now, is in the same family as tomatoes, eggplants, and peppers (capsicums). They're all nightshades, so that means those who are allergic to or sensitive to nightshades should avoid them. It also means the plants are somewhat toxic (but, they are perfectly safe to throw on the compost pile.) Also, you should never eat the little fruits the potato plants bear. I dunno what they'll do to you, but if you eat them and die, I'll only say "I told ya so!" Only eat the potato part.


Now that your potatoes have little sprouts on them, you can plant them. Plant them in well turned earth (makes it easier for them to grow, and make sure it's well fertilized. Well rotted animal poo that was turned in at the end of last season should do the trick. Rake up some hills and trenches. Swear at yourself when you accidentally step in the middle of one as you work and have to rake it up again. Then, when you've got all that finished, in however many rows you want to plant in, fetch your spuds and plant them.


Now, I planted mine in the hills, and let them grow in the loose earth I had raked up. Others reckon you should plant in the trenches, and pull the dirt over the plants as they grow. Whichever way you choose, you'll still get potatoes growing. Throw your spuds in the ground and cover them up with a few inches of soil, water them, and walk away.

Okay, so occasionally you go back and water them. Once or twice a week maybe. For the most part, they take care of themselves. It won't take long for them to grow into impressive looking, dark green plants. They've got oblong leaves, and some even bear flowers. I've had some white and blue flowers on my plants. They're quite pretty in their own right.

As they develop though, they'll start to look pretty sad, disreputable almost, as their green fades into yellow and brown. But that's okay! Because it means harvest time is nearly upon you!


When you do finally get around to harvesting your taters, don't water them for a couple days. I find that's the best, less messy way to do things, because then you're not digging in mud and getting everything gummed up. Start by pulling the plants gently but firmly, straight upward. This usually will dislodge the potatoes, and make them easy to dig up. More often than not though, you'll just pull the green bit off and will be left to dig with your hands. No worries though, it's just dirt.


Now, some people will say to use a garden fork to turn the potatoes out of the ground. Although that is an effective method that doesn't require you getting down on your knees (too often) you also greatly increase your chance of spearing the spuds, thus opening up avenues through which they can go bad, very quickly in some cases, and since most people want to store their potatoes, we'd like to avoid that.


Once you've harvested your potatoes, throw the plants on the compost, let the potatoes out in a single layer to dry in the sun for a bit, and then back into paper bags or cardboard boxes, and store in cool dry places. Don't worry about washing them; just knock the worst of the dirt off, and by "knock" I mean with the gentlest touch, to avoid bruising the tubers. Then, whenever you want them, you'll have potatoes, fresh from your garden, totally organic, UN-sprayed, UN-poisoned, and otherwise wonderfully tasty. :)


Enjoy your dirty treasures!

Living, Learning, Loving

What better way to start a new blog, I suppose, than to introduce oneself? Or, at least, one's character? It's a good way to start, I think. Yes, a good way to start.

So, this morning, I was up way too early again (it's an interesting habit I have developed, this "getting up early"). Anyway, up early and bored- well, not really bored, just not doing anything useful. The usual really: checking Facebook, checking emails, checking forums, chatting with friends. Vaguely wondering what adventure I should undertake to feed myself. That sort of thing.

Ah yes, and here's my first character detail: I ramble, and take forever to get to the point. So, moving on.

I am a California girl (yeah, go ahead, sing that song). I am 24 years old, so still young, if not as spry as I actually should be (I'm working on it). I come from a varied, if somewhat mundane background. Public school kid, local college following art, music, culinary arts, graphic design, web design, etc. Wage slave at a local market (I was the morning baker, and then moved into the coffee bar). I was pretty tired and worn out and depressed after three years of all that.

I escaped from the crazy hamster wheel in 2010, when I married the love of my life and ran away with him (not really though. I'd been planning to move in with him down there, as he had a house an and established job, and because I wanted a little adventure and something new in life.) Although I miss my family and the familiar sights of homes, I love Tasmania (which is a state of Australia, NOT a country in Africa; seriously, some of my relatives thought my husband was a black man when I first told them).

Since I've moved, I've had time to rest, recuperate from the slump the rat race had put me into, and after we got the letter granting me temporary citizenship until they got around to processing my papers, I finally had the time and energy to think about what I actually wanted.

I learned that suddenly, I had a desire to garden. Now, I've always been fascinated by growing things (plants, animals, people). It grew into a desire to grow produce organically, free of poisons and other nasty things. I started looking for and buying heirloom (open pollinated) seeds, and reading the gardening books in the book store. Then I started thinking well, a more natural lifestyle would be better. Then I finally caught on to the fact that oh, the library is a huge resource. 

I started checking books out on all kinds of subjects. Gardening in general, gardening in particular, composting, homesteading in general, animal husbandry, even homeschooling children. Tons of subjects. I swear, I think the library staff run away when they see me come in, because I almost always have my library card maxed out. When I have the books, I read them, pick out the useful bits of information that apply to me, and record them in a note book I keep. Oh, how I love my notebook.

I've started groups, a forum, I've joined forums, I've searched the internet for all sorts of information that would help me on my "self education" goals. I've made new friends with a vast array of skills, and rely on their advice and experience when I have questions, I don't just thirst for knowledge, I hunger for it, want to live for it.

So, what do I do when I'm not cramming my noggin full of cool and useful stuff? I relax. I read, draw, write fiction, watch movies or TV. I also like to think. I think while I cook, while I'm in the garden, while I lie awake in bed, before I fall asleep. I'm always thinking. Thinking is good. It keeps the gears greased and rolling smoothly.

So, that's sorta me in a somewhat sloppy nutshell: Housewife wanting an organic lifestyle, making new friends in a new place, searching for new things.

I leave you all for now with a simple message:


Live, Learn, Love.


Cheers!