Bread and Candles and Soap and Goats

My beeswax container, votive, and tea light candles

Goat's milk soap from our goat breeders

Maybe it was the three cups of caffeinated tea that got me moving, but today I bought some supplies for the bottle babies Grover and Neko (who will be here Wednesday), mixed up some bread dough, melted a couple pounds of beeswax and made candles, and discussed soap-making with the goat girl and her mom. They came by with a few bars of their homemade goat's milk soap and shared some of their tips. I am so getting a dairy goat!

Hitting the Books

Maybe it's because I'm old-fashioned and don't like reading things on a computer screen, but when it comes to researching a new project or idea, I start by buying a book on the subject...or, rather, every book on the subject. I probably own every single book currently in print on lavender; raising chickens, goats, donkeys, and sheep; keeping bees; harvesting maple syrup; growing pumpkins; and urban farming. Overkill? I think not. One of these years I'll get around to tapping some maple trees and will be oh-so-glad to have plenty of informative books on hand. (I absolutely love libraries but, oddly enough, I rarely can find the latest books on such topics as creating lavender labyrinths and starting a sugarbush.)

But after I tore into the box of books on paper making that arrived today, I realized that I need get with the now and start with free research online. I can't entertain every whim by ordering a shipment of instructional books right off the bat. I read just one chapter on paper making before deciding that paper making is for the birds. Turns out, it is fairly complex and involves special equipment, techniques, and processes. There even was a chapter on lye, a substance that reduces me to a shaking, shivering mess.

Eghh. Now I'm stuck with five books on paper making. They'll find their place right next to my books on artisan chocolates. A quick google search would have informed me that making chocolates is a sophisticated exercise in chemistry (I had pictured merely pouring some batter into molds). A quick google search would have revealed that making lovely stationery is not as simple as whipping up a paste and spreading it out to dry.

On second thought, I'll donate these books to the library. While I'm there, I'll check the shelves to see if another donor learned a similar lesson on creating lavender labyrinths and starting a sugarbush.

Of Art and Ancestry

We received a beautiful Rosemaled bowl for Christmas. Rosemaling, which means "decorative painting" in Norwegian, is a folk art that originated in Norway's low-lands in the mid-18th Century. It is characterized by its flowing, stylized floral patterns. Interested in this art form, I did a little research online and learned of the John C. Campbell Folk School in North Carolina that not only offers Rosemaling classes but also hosts a number of Scandinavian arts, crafts, and cooking classes during Scandinavian Heritage Week. This year's classes include Rosemaling, Viking-style iron work, Scandinavian desserts, Norwegian bentwood box carving, Hardangersom needlework (embroidery worked with white thread on white cloth), and even an introduction to genealogy research and recording techniques.

I don't see myself devoting a week's vacation to Scandinavian crafts, but you never know. The Wrangler is an artist by a trade and a proud Norwegian. A knack for Viking-style iron work could be in his genes.

Flower Power

"I'm watching a guy movie," the Wrangler cautioned as I entered the family room, book in hand. "It's pretty violent. Don't watch. Read your book over there." He gestured to the armchair in the corner. Averting my eyes, I crossed the room and settled in with my book. But I couldn't help hearing the various slashing/splatting/moaning sounds. "The movie sounds very...stabby," I said, beelining it back to my office. So much for family time tonight.

The Wrangler gets a pass, though. The good man actually watched a 90-minute instructional DVD with me yesterday on making lavender wreaths and baskets. Our Hidcote lavender plants in the orchard have surprised us with a second bloom. A fall bloom, which is not as lush as a summer bloom, typically involves a variety that blooms earliest in the summer, such as Hidcote. When the plant is harvested at peak bloom (as the flowers begin to open), and the foliage is pruned around the same time, a fall bloom sometimes occurs. That we got this fall bloom despite doing absolutely nothing with our lavender last summer--no harvesting or pruning--is a testament to lavender's hardiness and tolerance for neglect. (Which makes it the perfect crop for me.)

Incidentally, Hidcote is favored for crafts because it dries nicely and the florets remain on the stem. I'm going to try my hand at some wreaths and baskets, which looked easy enough on the DVD. And since the Wrangler watched the instructions, I can put him to work as well. I can just see him wrapping delicate lavender bundles around a grapevine wreath while watching a guy movie. Slash, splat, and wrap!

Homemade Is Where the Heart Is

I spent a couple hours today making beeswax candles using widemouth 8 oz canning jars as molds. Of all the crafty things I attempt, beeswax candle-making is probably my favorite because of the easy factor. The kitchen smells nice, mistakes can be melted away, and it doesn't take long to have a tangible, practical product. The only step I struggle with a little is chiseling the two-pound block of raw beeswax into smaller pieces for melting.

I ordered some kraft boxes for packaging sets of votives and tea lights that I'll make for gifts. I'm glad to see that the stigma once associated with homemade gifts is fading. When I receive a homemade gift from a busy friend, I almost want to cry because I know that she is giving me something extra special--the gift of her time. It takes so little effort to send a gift card, but setting aside precious time to create a gift means a lot. It doesn't have to be fancy or even that time-consuming. A box of homemade rice krispie bars could make someone's day!

Wouldn't it be cool if, instead of feeding the grotesque Black Friday shopping tradition (which, by the way, is now encroaching into Thanksgiving Day--Walmart is opening at 10PM on Thursday, which is beyond gross), we stayed at home and made things to give for the holidays? Instead of strapping on running shoes and pepper-spraying old ladies in the name of "big savings," we could relax and recover from the Thanksgiving festivities and maybe invite a couple good friends over for, I don't know, a knitting bee or something? I realize that my Anti-Black Friday manifesto makes me sound old-fashioned. I can hear the protests: "Stay home and knit instead of scoring a cheap iPad? Surely you jest." I really should have been born 100 years ago.

Let There Bee Light

What was in this giant box that arrived today all the way from the Brushy Mountain Bee Farm in North Carolina? None of your beeswax. Literally. It's my beeswax!

I was inspired to place an order after the Wrangler bought a small beeswax candle for $14.95 at Sprouts last week! I can make five candles that size from one pound of beeswax, which costs about $5.00. I'm no math wizard but even I could see that the $14.95 candle can be replicated for roughly a $1.00. Sure, there's the labor factor to consider but, especially when compared to most of the other crafty things I've attempted, making candles is a breeze.

And I'm sure the candles will come in handy during the next power outage.

The Wool Lady

As a future shepherdess, I feel that it's my duty to master at least one wool craft. Accordingly, last weekend I paid a visit to the The Wool Lady in Old Town Temecula. The Wool Lady, otherwise known as Ruth, was friendly and helpful and took the time to explain with enthusiasm several different types of wool crafts--rug hooking, punch needle, felting, and wool applique stitchery. I wasn't a huge fan of felting, so I'm pressing onward with this chicken-themed wool applique project. It calls for hand-stitching rather than a sewing machine, which is good because I've completely forgotten how to wind a bobbin or thread my machine.

I just need to check YouTube for instructions on how to do a blanket stitch, chain stitch, French knot, and back stitch, and then I'll be good to go. Oooh, as I typed this, I starting feeling a little overwhelmed. It wouldn't be out of character for me to end up just straight stitching the entire thing.

Spinning Yarns

I went to a beginning crochet class today and learned the chain, single, and double crochet stitches and how to read a pattern. My first project is a twisted cowl scarf of super soft Malabrigo Silky Merino. This is my first step toward learning to properly knit and crochet so I can make good use of all that nice yarn I'll be producing as a shepherdess.

I'm not entirely unfamiliar with wool crafts--I tried felting, and I have two somewhat secret hobbies, one of which involves a Knifty Knitter loom and the other of which involves a latch hook and color-coded mesh canvas. Yes, the Knifty Knitter's target market consists of pre-teens (so I've been told), and latch hook kits are popular only among unicorn-loving octogenarians (as is apparent from the plethora of unicorn-themed patterns). What can I say? I have multi-generational interests. In my defense, let the record show that I make cute hats on my little loom, and I only latch hook moderately cheesy landscapes. No unicorns or kittens!

You're Welcome

I finished my craft project. When I last reported on this attempt to create replicas of the $7.99 Easter-themed Welcome sign that I saw at Michaels, I was somewhat alarmed that the cost-per-unit had reached $55. Well, I ended up spending approximately $240 on supplies, for a total of $60 per sign. This, of course, does not include labor. My friend Theresa and I spent most of Sunday afternoon painting the letters. Connecting the letters with wire kept me occupied throughout the entire Academy Awards red carpet pre-show and ceremony. I spent a couple hours cutting fabric on Monday evening, and tonight I fired up the glue gun and spent an hour affixing all the buttons. I guess that's about 13 hours of man-power. Assuming a modest wage of, say, $10 an hour, the cost per sign is $92.50.

Theresa offered to sell my signs at her booth in the upcoming craft fair at the Laguna Beach Women's Club. As lovely as my signs are, I suspect that at $100 each they are unlikely to fly off the shelves. No worries. I always had intended to give them as gifts to VERY LUCKY recipients.

In the mean time, I need suggestions for something I can do with the four jars of leftover paint in pink, green, tan, and eggshell!

Unwelcome Knock-off

I spotted this Easter "Welcome" sign for $7.99 at Michaels and thought--rather stupidly, it turns out--that it would be fairly easy to mass-produce facsimiles to give as gifts. Materials needed: unpainted wood letters, including an egg-shaped "letter" as a substitute for the O in "WELCOME"; paint in four country-ish pastel colors; paint brushes; a drill to make holes and jewelry wire to string the letters together; twine to affix to the top letter so that the sign can be hung; ric rac ribbons in a few different patterns; wood buttons; glue gun; and sandpaper (to give the letters a distressed look after painting).

I decided to make four signs. Tonight I found most of the supplies at the store, but I struck out on the wood letters. No L to be found, and the C and M were available only in the wrong size or font. But at that point, I wasn't too discouraged. I could find the letters online. The discouragement began to set in at the check-out counter. The paints, brushes, twine, and jewelry wire came to $86 and some change. Thankfully, the Wrangler already has a drill, glue gun, and some sandpaper.

At home I searched for the letters online. The good news is that I found exactly what I wanted--even the egg-shaped O. The bad news is that the grand total for four sets came to $98 plus shipping. The devastating news is that I won't receive the letters for 15 business days. I consider this devastating news because the odds are good that I'll have deserted this project within 15 business days.

But I haven't lost interest yet, so I'll press on to the fabric store tomorrow in search of the wood buttons and ric rac ribbons. I can't guess what I'll end up paying there, but right now these handmade knock-offs of the $7.99 Michaels masterpiece will probably cost about $55 each and look like a third-grader made them...assuming I even make them. Fifteen business days for delivery? What year is it--1860? Are the letters coming by Pony Express?

Heartfelt

Pieces of roving stabbed into a thin piece of artfelt paper

This afternoon a friend and I took an artfelt class at Strands & Stitches, an adorable knitting store just a few blocks away. What is artfelt? Well, as the Artfelt website states, "It's not needle felting. It's not wet felting. It's not fulling." Good to know. Although, I've never heard of any of those things. My rudimentary description: you take various colors of roving (strips of flimsy wool fiber--yes, this is an alpaca tie-in), twist into shapes, and place on a piece of special artfelt paper. Using a barbed needle, stab the pieces of roving into the artfelt paper. To save your table top, be sure to place a piece of foam or tacking board between the artfelt paper and your table.

After it "felted" in the dryer

Immerse your design in water. Cover the top side of your design with a piece of plastic (like a plastic grocery bag), and then place a rolled dishtowel on top. Roll the design into a tube shape (around the dishtowel) and then put the tube into a trouser sock. The process does not ruin the dishtowel or sock. Throw it into the dryer for about 15 minutes, and then unroll. Place your design, paper side-up, in the sink, and pour boiling water over it to dissolve the paper. Rinse and allow to dry.

Finished product: a camera case for my niece

Knit-picking

It's the time of year that I take up knitting again. I'm not sure why, but knitting is not a year-round activity for me. It's probably for the best that I don't have several old-lady projects going on at once. I like to cook, sew, knit, decorate cakes, and collect pieces for my ceramic Christmas village--which, on paper, pretty much makes me either a 1950s housewife or a grandma. Maybe even a great-grandma. But I figure that since I don't iron or clean, I'm not a true 1950s housewife. And since I listen to mostly hip-hop and rap music on my ipod while I knit, maybe I'm not that grandmotherly just yet. That's what I keep telling myself.

Just Bead It

Earlier this summer, I spotted a beautiful beaded necklace in one of the boutiques here in town. I don't wear much jewelry--I'm allergic to metals, and I dislike fussy things. But this necklace had a very simple design of shiny burgundy beads interwoven with small, sparkly crystal beads. Price? $140. "Whatever," I told my friend. "I could make this for, like, $20."

Determined to prove that boutique prices are for suckers, I dutifully signed up for the Beading 101 class at the local craft store. Upon registering, I was slightly dismayed to receive a lengthy supply list. I needed only some string, a clasp, and two types of beads, right? Apparently not. I purchased the required "Bead Bucket" and now own three types of pliers, an assortment of odd needle-like sticks purportedly called tube crimps, several rolls of wire, and some strange looking pins.

Noting that the speciously named Bead Bucket did not actually contain any beads, I stopped by the Bead Lounge to look for shiny burgundy and sparkly crystal beads. The Bead Lounge did not disappoint; I found the exact beads I was searching for! Unfortunately, I also found that beads are expensive.

Beading 101 Class = $45

Bead Bucket = $54.38

Beads = $90.50

Grand total = $189.88

Number of beautiful beaded necklaces completed by me = 0