Category Archives: Photographs

My Deadline Carrot

Carrots work so much better than sticks, don’t you think?

Gentle readers, behold: HRH and I finished the staining and waxing the new Kromski Symphony spinning wheel.

It’s a bit darker than I initially envisioned, but it will lighten with time. Finishing it took about two weeks, but that’s because I didn’t have a lot of time or energy to stain it all in three days straight, and then there was a delay before the waxing step because I refused to use the stinky petroleum-derived paste wax that is ubiquitously available. There were tonnes of tiny finicky pieces to stain, too. HRH did about half of the work, staining the drive wheel itself, and doing the second coat of golden-tone stain over the initial walnut colour on everything. I love the homemade beeswax polish I made, which was essentially one part beeswax to four parts walnut oil, with about five drops of lavender essential oil stirred in as it cooled. The wax really brought a nice glow to it. It’s already fading; I may want to wax it more frequently than I thought. We assembled it Sunday night while rewatching the penultimate episodes of the first season of Farscape.

Today is Deadline Day. I am theoretically supposed to hand in half of the bird book, but I am actually a couple of thousand words or so below that. My editor, bless her, said not to worry about it when I contacted her on Friday with the grim facts. Things are actually going very well now, and I’m getting the entries for about two birds a day done. No matter when the wheel got finished I wasn’t going to be allowed to play with it anyway, until I’d handed in my half-book. That happens this afternoon, so tonight or tomorrow, I get to sit down and test-drive my new beauty.

She does not yet have a name. I did figure out that my Louet’s name is Lillian during this whole process, though. Poor Lillian; she has not been used since I decompressed in early January after the November/December trudge doing the two ounces of laceweight Polworth with those lovely creamy four ounces of Merino. I have no idea what I will spin first on this Symphony. Goodness knows I have a lovely basket full of indie dyer braids that I have collected over the past quarter-year from which to choose. I think there’s a Rambouillet in there somewhere; that might be nice.

Back to the salt mines! I need to finish the entry on doves before I give it all a quick once-over and e-mail it to my editor, because I have to drive out to pick the boy up to school. There’s a school bus strike that began today, you see, which cuts about an hour off my already truncated work day. No idea how long it will go on, either. The school appears very organized, though, as does the school board.

EDIT: I seem to have neglected to post a photo of that delicious thick-and-thin single of Merino in the Blue Bells #2 colourway that I spun in early January. You poor, deprived readers! Here you are:

LATER EDIT: I have just handed in my partial manuscript of the bird book. It’s only a couple of thousand words shy of the halfway point, which was the goal for today’s deadline. Go. Me.

And now I will fall over, until it is time to suit up and go collect the boy from school.

Wheel Progress

I started staining the wheel yesterday. The European alder and birch softwood is taking stain to different degrees depending on the angle of the wood and how it was shaped. For example, some places are paler because the wood was cut or sanded with the grain, so the wood cells aren’t as open and thirsty. If the sanding or shaping took place across the grain — like most of the spindling, I discovered — it soaks the stain up in great gulps leaving nothing to wipe off and swathes of dark colour behind. I wonder if I shouldn’t have used some of that wood conditioner prep stuff to even it out (not that I knew this would happen, or where; you can see some sections of the pieced wheel rim are darker right next to paler sections, for example). Eh; done is done.

Last night it took half an hour to do the table and an hour to do the drive wheel alone. As you can see, the spindles of the wheel still aren’t done; they’re very finicky, and I’ve asked HRH to do those. There are more bits and pieces and fittings like bobbins and whorls and pegs to do, too, and the lazy kate to stain.

This is just the first coat. I have to sand these and do at least one more coat of stain, and as it’s come up so dark already I’m considering applying a lighter, more golden-toned stain over top to warm it up (I know I have at least one half-can of golden mid-brown left over from staining various shelves and the Louet). The table and the flyer are the colour I was hoping for, using Miniwax Dark Walnut 2716. I may adjust my level of sanding depending on what piece I’m doing, to try to get more off the darker parts. Waxing it will warm up the colour a bit, too, because right now the finish is quite matte and absorbing light instead of reflecting it.

Because my retailer was short-shipped the rods and tension peg for the lazy kate in the original wheel delivery, they shipped separately from the North American distributor directly to me, and the parcel guy dropped them off today. The boy and I had made it all the way to the corner when the van pulled up to our house, and as there was already a decent amount of snow to trudge through plus wind, I made the decision to keep trekking to the bus stop even though the boy kept pointing out the van. The postman would drop off a card and I’d collect the parcel at the post office tomorrow, I reassured him. Well, we’d gone round the first corner and had reached the next when there was the beep of a horn, and I looked up to see that the parcel guy had pulled his van over to the other side of the street and was waving at me. So the boy and I scurried across the road and he gave me my package of rods and pegs, bless him. “I saw you’d left and I thought that maybe your husband was home,” he said cheerfully, snow whipping into his face as I signed for it. “I knew you weren’t far.” I thanked him fervently. I shall pick up a Tim Hortons gift card and leave it by the door to hand to him next time he drops by. Except I don’t think I’ve ordered anything else that would arrive by parcel post, now that I have both my spindles, the wheel, and the short-shipped stuff; the DVDs and books I’m waiting for arrive by regular mail. Doesn’t this mean I ought to order something new?

Weekend And Otherwise General Roundup

The big standouts this weekend: The boy’s first cello lesson, his first at-home practise on Sunday evening, and the arrival of new spinning equipment.

If you hit the previous post or the RSS feed early on Friday afternoon, you may have missed the two small updates to it, including photos.

The biggest obstacle to the lessons may be the travel time. Forty-five minutes, while fine for me because it’s roughly the length of a cello concerto so I get a sense of completion, is long for a squirmy boy in a snowsuit in the back. We’ll have to figure out a way to keep him busy.

Otherwise, the lesson went really well. There was lots of information that an adult would absorb almost immediately about how to sit and how to hold the cello, but the boy had to be talked through it. It was really fascinating to watch the Suzuki method being enacted with someone of the age for whom it was originally developed. He adores his tuning song ( “Ants, Ants, Ants, Digging in the Dirt, Dirt, Dirt, Going under Ground, Ground, Ground, All the way to China, China, China” for the four strings, ADGC), loves the “catapult” exercise where he holds his cello hand out to the side, palm up and hand slightly cupped, then bends the elbow and the hand is “released,” catapult-like, to land on the fingerboard. His teacher lent him her completely adorable Twinkle Bow to use for the week (because the bow that came with the cello set is a 1/2 bow, so it’s extremely unwieldy for (a) the 1/4 cello and (b) the child who needs the 1/8 cello), and put two tiny frog stickers on it so he had a visual reference for mid-point and balance point when he does his bowing exercise (which, he will discover, is the rhythm variation A of Twinkle). He was very proud of showing her that my luthier taught him how to make a bunny shape with the fingers of his right hand, then the bunny opens its mouth a bit and slides over the frog of the bow, teeth and ears kept long:

Not only is the bow two inches too long for the cello it came with (and therefore probably three to four inches too long for the boy), the 1/4 cello is unwieldy; we’ll be needing the 1/8. At the proper angles, his endpin is only extended two inches and his reach around the upper bouts is limited; he can’t get the bow down between the fingerboard and the bridge. The oversized instrument may have been a contributing factor in the slight mishap that occurred about three-quarters of the way through the lesson, when he twisted an odd way without holding onto the neck and the cello slipped off his body and fell to the ground. I thought my heart was going to stop. We all froze, our teacher picked it up and examined it, and all seemed to be well… but it could have gone very, very wrong. She asked him to apologise to me, then taught him about the three points of contact (knees, chest, floor) and the correct way to stand up and sit down with the cello so that he’d have a better understanding of the mechanics.

He’d drawn a picture for her (unprompted) that he gave to her at the end of the lesson, which she put up on her fridge. When we pulled out of her driveway, he sighed deeply and said, “I’m going to miss my cello teacher.” So I think it went well. She made quite an impression on him.

When I got home from my (quite excellent) ensemble lesson on Sunday, we set up his little chair and his endpin plank for his first at-home practice. This little cello doesn’t keep its tuning very well at all. I don’t know if that’s a commonality to all fractional celli or an idiosyncrasy of this one, or even because it’s literally newly set up and the pegs might not fully fit the pegholes properly. I may put a drop of peg dope on the pegs to keep them from slipping as badly as they’ve been doing. Anyway, after I wrestled with the pegs for a bit he got to sing his tuning song about the ants, practised his catapult, did his pizzicato rhythm practice, then again with what he and his teacher call “the magic bow”, and finally with fingers 1 and 2 of the left hand in prep for fingering. He loved it, and I did, too. I wish my practice sessions could be that fun.

In completely unrelated news, this arrived on Friday morning just as the boy and I were walking down the driveway to go to the bus stop:

I had a noon deadline, so I exerted magnificent self-control and didn’t open it until after I’d handed my project in and had made myself lunch:

I love that the maker signed the bottom of the table:

I bought walnut-coloured stain, tack cloths, foam brushes, and fine sandpaper on Saturday morning. HRH will borrow one of the tins of wood wax from work once I get to that point in a week or so. Once it’s all stained and waxed, we’ll assemble it. I figure it will be functional by mid-February (coincidentally, my next big deadline, so it’s probably a good thing it won’t be ready before that).

And two days before, this arrived in the mail:

As I was on deadline I didn’t try it out right away, but I did sit down Friday evening to test-spin some… vitamin cotton. Yes, I was crazy enough to have saved the cotton stuffing from the last few vitamin bottles, and I fluffed it up and used it to test this new Spinner’s Lair reclaimed walnut and oak spindle that weighs in at 0.88 oz. And you know what? Using a good-quality handmade spindle beats using a heavy, mass-produced, beginner’s spindle, hands-down.

If I can spin vitamin cotton on this thing, I can spin anything. I no longer hate spindles.

In other non-related news, I’m getting used to the iPhone. The headphone jack is on top instead of the bottom as well as being on the left instead of the right, which is now my most commonly enacted mistake. It annoys me that when I pull it out of a pocket I have to flip the thing around to access the home button and iPod controls, unlike my Touch, which had the headphone jack on the bottom so it went into a pocket upside-down with the controls easily accessible if I put my hand in my pocket. I need to work on focusing the photos I take with it, too, as you can see from some of the recent images here. It eats battery charge, something I have learned is a common weakness of the 3G series; to partially combat this one must be careful to close apps before putting it into sleep mode. Figuring I had nothing to lose because there was nothing on the iPhone yet and therefore a factory restore wouldn’t kill anything, I updated the iOS to 4, and all was well. I figured if Apple had to have fixed whatever killed most 3Gs back when the iOS4 was released last fall in the last two updates, and I seem to have been right. Now I can run my more current purchased apps like Toodledo and so forth.

My mouse is being annoying, sluggish and recalcitrant even though I just changed its battery and cleaned off the optic sensor, the ungrateful thing. I’m going to go back to working on the bird book.

The Saga Of The Boy and His Cello

So not long ago, I reported that the boy had decided upon the instrument he was going to learn to play, and that contrary to what he’d been discussing for the past year, it was the cello. I called the luthier and requested that they set up both a 1/4 and 1/8 size rental cello for him to try, because he was in that weird crossover space between the two sizes according to all the tables and lists we could find. My luthier said that they had both sizes in stock; they just needed to set them up. The boy bought his first music book and was very excited to start. That was three weeks ago. I set up his first lesson for the 22nd, thinking that two weeks would be more than adequate.

When I’d heard nothing from the luthier for those two weeks after my initial contact with them, I called my teacher on Friday the 21st to cancel the next day’s lesson and tentative confirm the following Saturday instead. Now, my local luthier is actually a satellite branch of a major luthier in town, and is only open three days a week. That means that two weeks translates to six working days. I understand that. I also know that they have a lot of open work orders, and it’s hard to fit everything in when you’re only open three days a week.

They phoned that Saturday morning, and I called them back after missing the call. The 1/4 was ready, they said, although they were having problems with the 1/8’s bridge and were waiting for a new part; it might be another two weeks for that size. No problem, I said! Could we come try the 1/4? If that fit, then they wouldn’t have to pursue the 1/8 setup. Sure, they said! Come by any time this afternoon!

The boy got very excited, and we planned to head over right after lunch. Well, as lunch was winding up, the luthier called again. Um, we’re so very sorry, they said; the rental 1/4 isn’t completely ready after all. We mixed up two different work orders.

Would it be ready by next Thursday, I asked? Maybe; they’d have to call me to confirm that the following week, they said.

The boy was crushed. So was I, in a different way. I was trying to strike while the iron was hot, so to speak; I didn’t want his enthusiasm to lose momentum. That night he asked if he could practice the cello he had, so I got the viola out and taught him the names of the strings, and we worked on the Twinkle rhythm, and he learned how to sing the note names of the first two bars, and put on a little concert for HRH. It was awesome. At orchestra on Wednesday I asked my teacher what else we could do, and she reminded me of all the early bow exercises like windshield wipers, the tree frog climbing up and down the stick, and so forth.

This morning I noticed that someone had pencilled the word ‘hope’ in lowercase letters across the bottom of the printout of the group cello class schedule that sits on my music stand. It just about broke my heart. So, it being Friday, three weeks after my initial request, and not having heard anything from the luthier, I called them early this afternoon to see what the status of everything was. They made sure to check by talking to the workshop guys to be absolutely certain of their answer, and lo and behold, the rental 1/4 is ready! So today, I will meet the boy at the bus stop after school, and I will be able to tell him that yes, we will be going to the cello store to try a cello, and if it fits we will definitely rent it and bring it home, and he can have his very first cello lesson tomorrow. He will be over the moon.

A couple of people have asked me what the fuss is about trying both the 1/8 and the 1/4, and why we aren’t just buying him a secondhand instrument. It’s like this: We want to buy him a secondhand instrument, absolutely, because renting one for a year would work out to the equivalent of buying a used one from the parent of another small cellist anyway. Problem is, if the 1/8 is what fits him right now, it certainly won’t fit him for very long, and we’d have to sell a secondhand 1/8 to upgrade to the 1/4 size in the near future anyway. If we’re renting, then I know we can upsize the 1/8 as necessary. Then, once he’s firmly in the 1/4 size and will be there for a couple of years, then we can buy him a used cello. If he fits the 1/4 right off the bat, then we’ll rent for the minimum three months and buy a used 1/4 at the end of it. Also, there are the is-he-ready-for-this and is-this-really-for-him issues. Three months will give me, his teacher, and him all a good idea of if this is going to work or not. If it’s not, we drop it after the three months, and try again later. If it works, then we can buy with confidence.

Cross your fingers for us, gentle readers. We really want that 1/4 at the luthier to be the right size. I think it will be, but there’s always that uncertainty.

I am going to need a new icon of him playing the cello. This one of him at twenty-two months old, while thematically appropriate, is woefully out of date.

LATER: Gentle readers, we have achieved cello:

The luthier and I think the 1/4 is a smidge large, but we’ve got it until the bridge for the new 1/8 comes in and gets shaped. If my teacher is fine with this, then the 1/4 it is.

SATURDAY: Yeeeeeah. We definitely need the 1/8; the 1/4 is just a bit too much to handle. Also, we need the proper size bow; the set came with a 1/2 size bow, for some reason. My teacher sent him home with her Twinkle Bow for the week to work with, a fully functional 10″-long miniature bow used to teach children how to hold a bow properly and use the proper wrist and elbow motions.

The boy, leaving his first lesson in the car: “Sigh. I will miss my cello teacher.”

The Countdown Begins

We went to the local music store yesterday to buy the boy’s first cello book.

No, there’s no excitement here, none at all:

He opened up the cover and wrote his name and what the book was inside as soon as he got home.

Assuming a 1/8 and 1/4 cello get set up within the next two weeks, his first lesson is Saturday January 22.

Our Best 2010 Holiday Photo

Seriously.

That’s my dad and my son in the cockpit of a 727. There is so much awesome in this picture I can’t even begin to catalogue it all.

(What, my version of a holiday photo isn’t what you expected? Actually, we didn’t take many Christmas pictures; we rarely do. We’re usually busy.)

ETA: People who read this via LJ, it has come to my attention that some of you are leaving comments on the RSS feed at LiveJournal. I don’t get those; I just happened to trip across one today because my feed showed up at the top of my LJ friends page. Not only do I not get your comments, they are gone along with the syndicated post in two weeks. Please leave them on the original non-LJ blog post instead! All you have to do is click on the original post link at the top of the syndicated post to be swept through to Owls’ Court proper. A bonus enticement to get you to click through: You’ll actually see the pictures and images in my posts! Because no, those don’t always get syndicated along with the text of my posts for some reason.

Breaking News

Happy 2011 and all that; I owe a books read in December post and my annual year-in-review post, but I am being firmly kicked by the fibro and am suffocating under a pile of catch-up post-vacation work plus a wall about to be built in my office, so you get to wait.

This, however, does not wait:

Someone’s got something big to share with his class when he goes back to kindergarten on Thursday!

We were woken up at 4:15 on December 30 with the exciting news that the tooth was a bit wiggly. We’ve had updates two or three times a day since then, and the boy just came upstairs to show me that when he pushed with his tongue the tooth almost lay down entirely… and suddenly there was an odd look on his face, he opened his mouth, and out fell the tooth onto his palm. So we took photographic evidence, which we share here with you. Tonight, the Tooth Fairy stops by our house for the first time, a momentous occasion indeed.