A few weeks ago we got slammed with an ice storm that took down trees and limbs like crazy. (German for tree: baum. Thank you, Christmas songs).

Frosty lives to see another day

This monster fell across our driveway, all the way across our neighbor’s yard into their driveway, where it smashed the back of their car. The neighbor took his chainsaw to it a few days later, which resulted in this:

Heap o' wood

We didn’t want to store it up on the porch, because that’s where we keep our seasoned firewood and obviously this stuff is very, very green. I don’t even know how I came across it, but I found an article on a unique way to stack firewood that apparently originated in the mountains of Germany and Switzerland. (German for mountain: berg That one I must have learned through osmosis). Enter, the holz hausen. I showed Mr. Gren the article and he liked it, so we decided to construct one. Right after Mr. Gren split all that wood.

Foundation

First, we made a 7′ diameter ring with scrap lumber and lined the inside with bark to keep the wood up off the ground.

Ring around the... pole.

Then we started stacking the split logs around the ring, one layer at a time. More or less.

Das ist gut.

Once it was about three feet high, we dropped in several more splits to fill up the middle, then laid two poles across for stability while building the next story. But Mr. Gren needed to split more wood and wasn’t up to doing any more that day. A couple of days later, he was feeling especially industrious and split the remaining wood and finished up the rest of the holz hausen all by himself.

Little hut

Complete with bark shingled roof to help keep out the rain

Isn’t it cute? It ended up being a little over 6′ tall. The wood won’t be ready to burn for several months, but in the meanwhile, this is a nifty way to store it. And we all learned some German to boot. Tschüss!

Cling! Clang!

I’ve come to the recent conclusion that I, too, must get used to disappointment. Not in dueling (because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t even last long enough to be disappointed), but in crafting. I know you’re probably all sick of hearing about my power outage, but it really did something to me. A couple of days before we lost power, I noticed that I don’t have a stocking hat. I have a beret that I wear through the winter (which is October through about April here), but it doesn’t cover my ears. And some days that is a real necessity. So I began knitting myself a stocking hat with a leftover skein of Homespun yarn. The power went out and I huddled up next to the window with my knitting board and kept stitching. I didn’t finish it until after the power came back on several days later. I sure could have used it as we sat freezing in our 45 degree cabin. I also wouldn’t have been able to see.

It might be a bit big

The cuff is supposed to start about where the pink is, but if you look closely, you can tell that that’s where my nose is. I don’t see through my nose.

Cuffed all the way to the top of my head and it still threatens to fall over my eyes

It calls to mind the first stocking hat I knitted on my knitting board about a year ago this time. It’s not any better.

Warm? Yes. Wearable? No.

So technically, I possess two stocking hats, but apparently I knit for Goliath. Or Andre the Giant.

I put the hat away and tried a different knitting project — a scarf similar to the pine tree scarf I made a couple months ago. This time I wanted to make a heart scarf.

Looks nice, feels scratchy

This wasn’t my first choice of yarn. Turns out my instincts were correct: it just doesn’t feel nice at all. And nobody wants to wear a scratchy scarf, no matter how cute. So I pulled it off the needles and stuffed into my yarn bin and put away the knitting board. Time to try something else.

I began sewing an Easter bonnet for Granota. I know it’s early, but I thought, if it turns out nice, I can make a few more for my etsy store. It turned out… passable. She loves it, so I won’t tell her all the things that are wrong with it. Of course, I can’t make something for one girl and not make the identical item for the other girl. I started sewing Rana’s bonnet and called over Granota for a fitting since Rana was at school. It didn’t fit her. I tried it on Konik and it didn’t fit him, either. How do I use the same pattern and end up with such drastically different results? I had enough seam allowance that I was able to let it out enough to eventually fit Konik’s head. I wish I had pictures of his face when I would try it on him. Even at 2 years old, he knows that is a girl hat and he wanted no part of it. It was pretty funny. In the end, I turned out a sweet little bonnet that I can’t use for my children.

Modeled so nicely by my tailor's ham, which didn't put up a fuss

Come on, now, something has got to work out one of these times. Next project was to crochet little cuffs to sew on the bottom of Rana’s pants. Remember all those clothes I made her at the beginning of the school year? Yeah, she’s outgrown them. Her pants are too short and we have no money, so I thought I could use what I already have. I measured around the hem of her pants, then got out my crochet stitch book, chose a stitch and started crocheting up a nice little decorative cuff. I used crochet thread and a size B hook. I was pleased with how it turned out and got right to work on the second one.

There might be a size discrepancy here.

Same number of stitches and yet… So I started a third one. Three different times. Tightened my tension and it would still turn out too big. I can’t even begin to explain what is happening here. I thought I would have all this great stuff to show you after the little scare with my computer (which has been behaving itself of late, so we’ll see…) and I can’t properly finish anything. I’ve gone through the stages of confusion and frustration, so now I’m left with disappointment. But y’know, it’s so much easier to take when I imagine Cary Elwes telling me to get used to it. Anything for you, Cary.

Every king needs a healthy dose of megalomania, right? The French kings weren’t lacking, that’s for sure. They were awfully fond of their building projects, and wanted to be certain that everyone knew who was behind it. What better way than to carve your name in stone? Names can get long, though, so initials or symbols serve the same purpose.

Queen mom and son at Ste. Chappelle in Paris.

Under the relief carvings of the book of Genesis on the upper porch of Sainte Chappelle, you see this castle and fleur-de-lis motif repeated. The castle represents Blanche de Castile, who served as regent for her son Louis IX (St. Louis), represented by the fleur-de-lis. These same images are also used on the floor tiles in the lower level of the church.

François 1st really kicked off the building party during the Renaissance. He was tired of living in drafty fortresses and decided that a king of his ilk needed something more magnificent. So he had the entire Louvre razed to the ground and built himself a new one. But that wasn’t enough, so he also commissioned the château at Fontainebleau. And Chambord. And several others. The man liked the good life. His personal symbol was the salamander, which hardly seems very kingly. But back in François’ time, the salamander was believed to be akin to dragons. Now we’re talking! That explains why you will see fire-breathing salamanders wherever François spent any time. François’ monogram was a double F, one often mirroring the other for symmetry. He also made sure that it graced all of his new construction.

François' golden F's and flaming salamander in Fontainebleau

That's one fierce salamander. Stone relief in Vincennes.

After Francois, came Henri II. He has one of the most recognizable monograms and one of the best stories behind it.

Look closely at the chandelier and ceiling and upper walls

On the chandelier, there are blue medallions with an H and three interlocking C’s alternating around. The H is obviously for Henri and the C’s are for his wife, Catherine de’ Medici. But the most famous of Henri’s monograms is the one just over the window at the left. The DHC.

A little clearer in black & white

Inexplicably, this is the only photo I have of this particular monogram, even though it was repeated with abandon throughout Fontainebleau and the Louvre, among several other châteaux. The H is visible in the center, flanked by forward and backward-facing C’s. Well, that’s what Henri told his wife. But if you look more closely, you’ll see that the “backward C” is, in fact, a D, which stood for Diane. That’s right — the other woman. Diane de Poitiers was Henri’s mistress, and there was no secret about it. She enjoyed such an important distinction at court that Henri had no qualms in incorporating her into his monogram all over France.

The next few kings also had monograms which are visible in the royal palaces, but no one was quite so full of himself as Louis XIV. Besides all the old places where he could build on additions and new wings, he also built Versailles, possibly for the sole purpose of putting his name everywhere. Ok, not really, but Louis XIV wanted to be in everyone’s head all the time. His monogram is the mirrored script L and his symbol is the sun, because he likened himself to Apollo.

Louie Louie! Floor at Les Invalides (unfortunately taken upside down. Whoops! But I flipped it so you could see the L's).

Bright and shiny as the sun. Main gate at Versailles.

Of course, history’s biggest megalomaniac left plenty of evidence of himself. Would you expect anything less? You’ll find N’s everywhere in Paris. Napoleon definitely left his mark. The subsequent revolutions and reinstatement of the monarchy erased a few and replaced them with their own symbols. Once again, I remember taking photos of at least a few of these N’s, but can’t seem to find them in my photo folder. You’ll have to take my word for it. Or better yet, take a trip to Paris, and snap a few shots yourself! I should start making lists of things I need to photograph whenever I do get to go back… But I digress.

Louis XVIII, post Napoleon, scraped off the N's, but left the Napoleonic lion. Hm. (Louvre)

Not to be outdone, the new République Française made sure to put its stamp on the Louvre.

So here’s a French-inspired craft project for all of you: Go brand your own house. Don’t they say, “a man’s home is his castle”? Well, that makes you king (or queen). And don’t let anyone forget it.

The other night, my laptop started fizzling, crackling, popping, maybe some snapping thrown in there, too. I shut it down in a hurry. When Mr. Gren got home that night, I showed him where the noise had emanated. He sighed and said, “That’s the mother board.” Three cheers for an expense we can’t afford right now! Hip, hip, nevermind. Currently, I am using Mr. Gren’s laptop, which is also on its last leg. It has all kinds of fun lines across the screen, and sometimes, if you’re really lucky, the screen never wakes up at all and you’re just left staring at a dismal black rectangle. I don’t know how long I’m going to be offline. I don’t know when we’ll be able to get a new computer. Mr. Gren’s dream job as part-time minimum wage cashier at the home improvement store surprisingly doesn’t rake in a lot of cash. In the meanwhile, I guess I’ll have lots of time to finish up some of the projects I’ve got going on around here, so I should have plenty of material for posts whenever I do get to come back. Until then… go do some fearless crafting of your own and stay tuned for the grand re-opening. Maybe I’ll do something fun with lots of fanfare. Ciao.

I’ll probably never have another chance to use these photos because they don’t fit any particular theme. You’ll see in a minute. First, you should know that they were taken in the Museum Carnavalet. It has nothing to do with the carnival, but everything to do with the history of Paris. It is housed in an old mansion in the Marais district. There are old store shingles (signs, not roofing tiles) from the 1600s-1800s, maps of the city in its various stages, paintings of the city from different eras, rooms reconstructed from other mansions, and a variety of objets-d’art and other things that don’t fit neatly into any category. Like the pictures you’re about to see.

But first, a decoy picture so that my whole post isn’t spoiled when it goes up on Facebook with a little telltale thumbnail.

Hôtel Carnavalet

Here is the interior courtyard of the Hôtel Carnavalet. It is not a hotel. “Hôtel” means mansion. It’s difficult to get a photo from the true outside of the building because the streets are so narrow, but here you get to see the lovely garden with the extremely manicured miniature hedges. Inside this stunning building are all of the treasures I’ve already mentioned, and then, there’s this…

Everyone needs a taxidermied ferret diorama.

As you would naturally assume, such a jewel is lovingly housed in a glass case. Can’t have your ferrets getting dusty. At least, we think they’re ferrets. The faces don’t look quite right, but they were about the right size overall. I shudder to think what else they might be. From left to right, we have the Society Lady Ferret dressed in her finest velvet robe with a spectacular hat; the Tinker Ferret reaching for his tiny little mallet to… who knows? Maybe the table leg is wobbly and needs fixing. Third, is the Blacksmith Ferret, fashioning a horseshoe with his bare hands (paws?), which may explain the gruesome expression on his face. And lastly is the Wizard/Dunce Ferret. It’s hard to be sure. And is that a baseball bat at his feet? I really don’t understand this. I also have no explanation for the glass tubes placed throughout the display or the questionable spots on the floor. There was no sign on this work of nightmares art to give any hint as to its origins, purpose, or what the heck it has to do with the history of Paris.

And just in case you need a different angle to enjoy these cuddly little guys:

Ils ne courent plus, ces furets

There is an old French children’s song called “Il court il court le furet” — The ferret runs. This is usually one of the very first songs high school French students learn. It’s catchy, it’s easy, and it comes with a little game.

Il court, il court, le furet
Le furet des bois, mesdames
Il court, il court, le furet
Le furet des bois jolis
Il est passé par ici
Il repassera par là
Qui l’a?

He runs, he runs, the ferret
The ferret of the woods, my ladies
He runs, he runs, the ferret
The ferret of the lovely woods
He went this way
He’ll come back that way
Who has him?

I would gladly sing this to you all, but alas, I have not the means. I do, however, have youtube links. For your listening pleasure:

A weirdly creepy version befitting our wee friends up above. (With lousy picture quality, also befitting our dodgy photos)

A partitioned choral version.

A more traditional version with “animation.”

You’re welcome.

I’m a sucker for fruit prints. A few years ago, I decided that our family needed to do away with paper napkins and all the mess and waste they create. I found fabric with oranges and with grapes and fell in love with them. I decorate my kitchen in blue and yellow, so I obviously wasn’t following any kind of color theme in choosing them. But I think the vibrant colors of the fruits can go with any decor. They’re fun! My family has been using those same oranges and grapes napkins (with the semi-recent addition of blueberries) ever since and the colors are still as bright as ever, even going through hot water washes. I’ve never had a problem with the dyes bleeding, either, although I wouldn’t recommend washing them with your whites!

I love the style of this apron with the reverse sailor collar. This pattern was kind of strange to put together at first, but it all makes sense now. The collar snaps in the back and then it ties at the waist, too.You can’t help but feel a little sassy wearing it.

I’ve made this heart apron before for a craft swap on craftster a few years back. It was fun to do again and I know I did a better job on it this time around. That’s the fun thing about sewing the same pattern more than once: you can see how your skills have improved!

This one I love! Apron with built-in potholders?! Genius! The pattern said to sew the diagonal part of the potholder down all the way. But I could tell right away that doing so would result in many dropped dishes; there was no way to use the potholder portion without it slipping. So instead, I sewed the bottom half of the diagonal line, leaving an opening to insert your hands. Now they work kind of like oven mitts. Another thing that I will change the next time I do this is to bind all of the edges of the apron and potholders in bias tape instead of trying to sew them wrong sides together and fold it back out. Once you have three layers of batting and four layers of fabric, you’ve got a lot of thickness to deal with. I ended up topstitching around the outer corners of the potholders to help hold them down where they wanted to turn back inside-out. Thanks to my friend, Rebekah, for all the great photos!

If you, personally, don’t need aprons or napkins or assorted baby things that I have in my store, maybe you know someone who does. Pass it on, if you do!

I’ve just completed a prototype Easter bonnet for Granota and learned a lot in the process. It’s not as perfect as I’d like it to be, but I plan on correcting those small mistakes when I make Rana’s next. Hopefully after that one, I’ll have it figured out and can move on to the ones I want to put up in my shop. I’ll post about them next week.

Mr. Gren hauling up river water to flush the toilets.

The day before the power went out, I had just finished reading “Little House on the Prairie” to the girls. When we first started the series, shortly before moving to the cabin, I had pointed out to the girls the way that the Ingalls did things that are different than how we do them nowadays. More people have lived without electricity in the whole history of the world than currently live with it and the human race didn’t die off for lack of toasters or hair dryers (solution to both: Fire). Rana was ready to smoke meat in a log and wash our clothes in the river months ago. While dipping my hands in glacier water is not my first choice of ways to spend a day, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. And there are better “primitive” ways of doing laundry than that, too.

Melting a pot full of snow to use for washing hands and dishes.

I started making a list of things that would have been helpful during those four days. In the case of laundry, we could put that off, but if we were going to truly prepare for a prolonged outage or a Volcano-Tsunami-Earthquake Trifecta (oh yeah, we get it all in the PNW), a large washtub would come in handy for a lot of things. While I did manage to cook a few meals in the fireplace with my solitary cast iron skillet, it was not an ideal situation. As imposing as that fireplace is, it’s not really set up for cooking. In order to really make it work, the mouth would need to be much larger to accomodate a hook and arm and so I could see what the heck I was doing. My family appreciated the warm pancakes I made, but they came out looking like Othello chips, although I think they tasted better, especially with butter and maple syrup. The cabin would have stayed a lot warmer if it were smaller, like the Ingalls’. If the well had a hand pump, we would have had less trouble getting water. Lots to contemplate for the day we get to move into our own house, whenever that may be.

No grill? No problem. I used my cookie cooling rack. It's a little worse for the wear now, but it served its purpose well.

So what business does all this survivalist-apocalypse talk have on a crafting blog? Creativity is the link. It takes a certain amount of creativity to figure out how to cook, read, and wash up with no power. What do you eat? How do you stay warm? How do you provide clothing and blankets? It’s that can-do attitude that so many crafters possess that has helped progress civilization as we know it. Something that began as a necessity (ie. I need a covering to stay warm), evolved from mere utilitarianism into works of art (intricate afghans and colorful quilts). I enjoy making things for the challenge of seeing if I can do it and also to see if I can improve some aspect of our lives through my craft or innovation, and then bring a bit of beauty to our home in the process. The “simple living” movement has tapped into this growing realization that centuries worth of knowledge has fallen by the wayside. Self-sufficiency isn’t goofy. Maybe you will never need to put up food for the winter or mend a pair of shoes to make them last, but wouldn’t it be good to have that knowledge, just in case?

We’ve been getting to know each other a bit over the past few months. She has a great eye for color, awesome skills with a crochet hook and never fails to make me laugh. Thanks, Lisa!

So, a little info on the award. Liebster is German, meaning dearest, beloved or favorite. You get the idea. They like me, they really like me! The idea of the Liebster award is to bring attention to blogs with fewer than 200 followers. Here are the rules that come along with it:

Rule #1. You must acknowledge the blogger who gave you the award by linking back to them.
Rule # 2. Give this award to 5 other bloggers who have fewer than 200 readers. Please let them know through a comment on their blog.
Rule #3. Post this wonderful award on your blog.
Rule #4. Bask in the glory bestowed upon you and appreciate all the amazing bloggers out there.
Rule# 5. Enjoy and spread the good vibes around.

Rule #1: Lisa, you are hereby acknowledged.

Rule #2: Check out some other blogs I enjoy!

• Kristen at Kristenisms knits like the wind and has a sock wardrobe that will blow you away!
• Erratic Elle and I go way back and it has been fun to follow her crafting adventures on erratic project junkie.
• My dear friend, Carrie, reflects on life with her four small & busy people Life Is Like a Mountain Railway
• Jen at Pint-Sized Pioneering writes about a lot of things that I want to do like raising chickens, gardening, and canning.
• Last, but not least, Kimberly of One Fine Day relates the joys and trials of raising her three daughters and autistic son as well as finding her creative voice through painting.

Rule #3: I’ve got to figure this out.

Rule #4: Basking and feeling warm and fuzzy.

Rule #5: Imagine me skipping by your house, flinging good vibes out of a basket like a flower girl.

It all started out so beautifully

Outside, things were even more exciting. We had had several inches of snow early in the week, but then Wednesday night the freezing rain started. All the majestic fir trees shrouded in their coats of snow were even further burdened by the layer of ice the rain had created. When we woke up Thursday morning, I commented to Mr. Gren that I had heard rifle shots in the woods. He listened again and said, “No, those are trees breaking.” Treetops, branches, and limbs cracked and broke in a rushing, rattling cascade of needles, ice and snow. It was actually fairly dangerous to be outside, although Mr. Gren and I did have to venture out a few times. The cabin is on well water, so when the power goes, so does the pump. I ran outside several times to fill pots with snow to later melt and use for washing-up water. Meanwhile, Mr. Gren had to make a few trips down to the river with a bucket to fill so that we could flush the toilets. All the while we could hear trees breaking near and far and when the first chunks of snow began to fall, we would hightail it to a clearing as fast as we could. Harder than it sounds when we’re surrounded by trees! It was an eery and disturbing sound. I stood out in a safe spot once and counted seconds between the cracking — trees broke every 5-30 seconds.

And then it got crazy out there

As you can imagine, all that damage worsened the power situation. Power lines were being pulled down all over the place, tree limbs were  in the roads and then… the rain came. Friday, it rained enough to melt the hold the ice had on the trees. Good for the trees, not good for anyone unfortunate enough to be under them. This time, there were no warning cracks before softball-sized chunks of ice cascaded down, pummeling anything below. Those suckers hurt. One got me on the shoulder as I struggled to tromp through half-frozen snow. All day in the cabin, the roof would rattle and shake; the children would stop playing and run to the window to see and marvel. It felt like we were under siege.

It missed our neighbors' house by about two feet.

Day number three without power, the wind came. The wind was both helpful and further damaging. Many of the branches that had broken two days earlier had gotten caught high up in the trees, on wires, or on our roof. The wind helped blow many of them down. But with it came more trouble for the work crews who were out night and day trying to restore electricity to hundreds of thousands of people. I don’t envy them their jobs (but maybe their overtime paychecks).

This one eventually ended up on the power line in front of the cabin

On the fourth day without power, we had some friends who invited us to stay with them until power was restored to the cabin. Really, we had been doing alright up in the loft, dimly lit with candles and an oil lamp. But it was such a relief to be someplace warm, to be able to see, to be able to flush the toilets, and to eat at the table without huddling in coats and stocking hats. Monday morning, Mr. Gren took Rana to school (which had regained power two days prior) and went on to check things at the cabin and was thrilled to find it toasty warm when he opened the door. The heaters had come on! The rest of us returned later that day. It took us some time to resume life as normal. I think we’re finally feeling like we’re back in the regular routine, though. All week I’ve felt like I’ve been playing catch up. So now you know where I’ve been! Next week I’m really going to try to get back on my regular schedule with some actual crafting!