I have finally finished this warp. High summer is an unappealing and sweaty time to weave and I quickly learned that a 10 yard warp can easily become a bit of a bore. It started off as a turned twill project and as usual I experimented with different color, tie up and treadling. The last 5 towels I whipped up in a frenzy using natural as the warp and alternating stripes of plain weave and diamond twill blocks. I was surprisingly pleased with the pattern, but eager to start my next project. I now see why so many weavers own multiple looms.
Top to Bottom: Tabby stripes with diamond twill stripes, turned twill blocks, diamond twill, large twill checks.
The days are undeniably shorter, but surprisingly warm. The brief moments after work and before darkness falls have become moments to cherish. I often take the long road home. Autumn is the perfect time to enjoy Cedar Lake trail. The setting sun warms my face, blindingly, and casts a warm glow through the tall grasses, bending in the breeze. The trees are ablaze, fleetingly so, but that is what makes it so special. Within the week the leaves will fall and we will start preparing for winter together.
Remember this? Well, I have finally strained my Limoncello and Arancello into 8 bottles of deliciousness. The sticky filtering process took more than 4 evenings to complete. . Early tastes are strong, but I know things will mellow out with time. Lately, I have been sipping my strawberry and raspberry vodka with lemonade, the last of what remains of summer.
From left to right: Limoncello, Arancello, Strawberry Vodka and Raspberry Vodka.
The fall version of Strawberry season, but a lot easier to pick. On a crispSunday afternoon, I found myself with 4 lovely friends and 2 dogs atMinnetonkaOrchards. I am usually not a fan of apples. Thinking about them makes my teeth tingle and my tongue salivate. I am however, oddly enough, a fan of apple picking. Something about being outside, rows of trees laden with fruit, apple cider and cinnamon donuts make me happy. To my surprise, I actually liked the Honeycrisp apples we picked, devouring 2 immediately. Between the 5 of us we picked a bushel, and devised plans for apple butter making at Eliz’s. Again, many hands made light work as we cored, peeled and boiled. The boiling took longer than expected, so we didn’t quite get to the canning part, but Eliz and Emily finished up the batch the next day.
Meanwhile, these tart, sweet, firm and juicy Honeycrisp apples have been the star of many a meals. German apple cake, cooked into oatmeal. Slivered atop a bed of roasted beets and sliced into an open faced sandwich with brie cheese and figs. The possibilities are endless and scrumptious too.
I have been missing my Saturday routine. Now that fall is officially here I am anxious to get to the Mill City farmers market, now, more than ever Like the leaves around us, the selection has turned autumnal. Stalks of Brussel Sprouts, Beets, Romanesco and Pumpkin are just a few of my favorites.
I am sampling a couple of ideas for my piece for theMN Weavers guild 75th anniversary book. You can read more about the projecthere.
I selected fancy raised stripes as my inspiration. The original swatch, below, was made to be kitchen towels. Members are encouraged to modernize the project via different yarns, sett and color. I decided to experiment with sett, creating soft and open curtains. So far I am liking the results.
Remember these? I was happy to come back to a pile of ripe ones. I somehow managed to get a better harvest indoors than outdoors, but I am really just happy for a harvest at all. My sturdy cherry tomato plants outside even surprised me with a last harvest of their own, frost and all.
For as long as I can remember I have received and sent postcards abroad and locally. In the past 7 years, I have made it somewhat of a tradition to write a postcard in poem format. I love sitting at a cafe trying to decipher what to rhyme with mosque, croissant or vino. It has become a bit of a game for me. This past trip to Sweden I came very close to not sending postcards. Gasp! Luckily, for all you recipients, I stumbled across the most absolutely adorable stamps I had ever seen and then I was determined. In hindsight, I am very happy that I did not break with tradition. Here is what I wrote....
Hej hej from Sweden,
On the island of Uto through mossy pine forests we hike,
Along pastoral fields to white sandy beaches we bike.
After 2 lovely days and plenty of time to relax,
It's back to civilization and delicious gravlax.
At the conditori we feast on cinnamon buns with tea and milk,
Later it's off to admire 18th century weaving in silk.
Stockholm city skyline at sunset is especially pretty by ferry,
There's so much to see; we mustn't tarry.
At the Nordic Museum, Scandinavian crafts we see,
Then on to the Vasa ship that capsized at sea.
Luckily the hotel we slept on called the Red Boat,
When it comes to style, Swedish designers just get it. The clean lines, thoughtful materials and neutral palette with an unexpected twist. Light. Open. Unassuming. And Inviting. Take what you might see at a store like Ikea and amplify it a million times. The result is achingly modern and classic, functional yet trendy, homey but cool. Hands down, Stockholm is a treasure trove of inspiration for interior design and textile advocates. Each store, clothing and interior, so well curated in this modern Scandinavian aesthetic. So consistent, yet unique. Right now, I am loving white ceramics, graphic prints, aged birch, succulents and pops of color.
Photo Credits: This is just a small sampling of the stores I visited, but there were just too many. I could have filled pages, books really.
I don't think I have ever visited a country where I ate so consistently well. We didn't stumble on a single terrible meal and being food lover's this was a good thing. Swedish fair is full of fresh fish, hearty servings, and delectable deserts. What's not to love?
From top to bottom, left to right. Apple custard at Conditori Sturekatten. Ginger cake with lingonberries and homemade whip cream at Skansen. Nordic blackened salmon on a sea of whipped potatoes at Vardshus on Uto. Lamb and root veggies at Pelikan. Smor means butter in Swedish. What a lovely touch at Pelikan. True Swedish meatballs served with whipped potatoes, lingonberries and sweet pickled cucumbers at Bakfickan. Seafood soup at Lisa Elmqvist. Fresh filet of sole with a compote of beets at Lisa Elmqvist. Braised leg of lamb at Bistro Sud. Open faced herring sandwich at Nystrekt Stromming (newly fried herring). Cardamon and cinnamon spiced buns at Cafe Saturnus. An afternoon break with pastry sweets and samovar at Sundbergs Konditori.
Back in Stockholm and eager to get moving, Melisa and I decided to explore the city via Stockholm City Bikes. Multiple bike stands are located throughout the city and with a City Bike card pass you can take and return a bike to any stand as many times as you would like throughout the day. Minneapolis has a similar program called Nice Ride and I have been eager to test out the idea of public bike sharing since our own Nice Rides were installed last year. There, in Stockholm, I finally had my chance. Our first morning we had no problem finding the bike stand closest to our hostel. Check! It was off to the Modern Art Museum. Before leaving we double check the map for the closest bike stand to our destination. It wasn't close. We would have to walk a little. So we did. Upon arrival at the museum what do we see? A Stockholm City Bike stand right in front of our destination. No matter, we're here. After entering the museum, we discover that the exhibit we wanted to see just ended. Darn! Nothing to see here. It's off to the Nordic Museum. It had started to drizzle. Shall we take the ferry instead? No. We can bike, a little drizzle won't hurt. First let's check the map. There is only one bike stand on Djurgården. I think I can find it. 15 minutes later, we arrive. Shoot, the rack is full. What do we do with our bikes? Ok, where is the closest bike stand. It is right across the bridge. The rain has gotten stronger. Across the bridge we go. Where is this bike stand? It has to be here. Keep riding. Turn around. Turn back around. Ok, it's not here. I'm soaked. There has to be another one. Ride up this street. I know! There is one here. There it is. 2 spots left. Phew! Now what? It is still raining. Let's go to a cafe. Ohh look, across the square, Piccolo, that must be a cafe. Let's have some tea, dry off, no? Ok. Piccolo is a dry cleaner! Who names a dry cleaner Piccolo? Darn! How about we huddle under this awning until the rain lets up? Ok. I'm soaked. Me too. Let's just walk to the damn museum. I want to see some damn Nordic crafts. Ok. Later, after the museum with lifted spirits... I am so glad to be dry. I'm famished. Me too. Let's go to Soldermalm for dinner. Ok. Shall we bike? Yeah, let's bike, that bike stand was full this morning. Let's go. Upon arrival, there are no bikes left. Really?? Murphy's law states "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong"
Luckily, this law only applied to our first miserable morning. The next 2 days were perfect via bike. Once we got the hang of it, Stockholm proved to be a very friendly city to bike.
Walk with caution. Bikers approach from all angles.
Isn't this nice? A special bike path off the road and only for bikers . I was green with jealousy.
Check out this street! I'm loving the giant bicycle symbol smack dab in the middle of the street. Another pang of jealousy hits. I distinctly remember wondering why we didn't have something like this in Minneapolis.
It's like Minneapolis was channeling my Swedish wishes. Check out our new bike boulevard on Bryant Avenue. This all went down during my week off. Have you seen it?
A half hour train ride on the local Pendeltag, followed by a 15 minute bus ride, and a mere 45 minute journey by ferry is just the right amount of time needed to find yourself lovingly nestled on the dreamy island of Utö. Being post summer, we were the only guests at the only youth hostel. Although seemingly desolate, it was oddly relaxing and just what I needed to rejuvenate. The first afternoon we spent wandering the north side of the island, through the forests and along the craggy beaches. On the second day, I awoke to rain and a mist of clouds shrouding the sky. Contentedly, I snuggled back into the down comforter and dozed to the patter of raindrops. Later, once the weather decided to cooperate, we hopped onto a few bikes and cruised the entire length of the island, on the only dirt road. Smaller trails drew us deep into the pine and fern. Grassy, muddy and then sandy. Taking a break at this lovely white sand cove of a beach, we diverged paths to explore in solitude. Zoning out to the melody of crashing waves, I was mesmerized by the seaweed pulling in and out by the tug of the Baltic. I was conscious of my breath, breathing deep, filling my lungs with the scent of sea, pine and sweet moss.
My view from the hostel. Being the only guests, gave us the best room in the house.
There is something about the light on this island. It softly creeps into the trees illuminating the spongy moss floor.