I Haven’t Tried Arts and Crafts Coppersmithing or Pottery-Making Yet, But I’ve Finally Embroidered an Inglenook Textiles Pillow

I’ve cranked out scads of lovely 18-inch Elizabeth Bradley Berlinwork pillows, but none were as coveted as the Inglenook Textiles creation that I just added to my collection of handmade needlework cushions. 

My yearning to make one of these pillows began in the summer of 2003, when I was nuts about Dard Hunter.

Hunter, who lived from 1883 to 1966, was a skilled Ohio craftsman who contributed his talents in design, printing and papermaking to the American Arts and Crafts Movement.

After learning about Hunter in the Rare Book Librarianship course I took that summer, I spent my lunch hours at the Ohio Historical Society’s Archives/Library poring over his limited-edition books on papermaking that he printed by hand on handmade paper, using hand-cast type. Seeing the title page and historiated initials he designed in 1905 for a copy of Rip Van Winkle prompted a pilgrimage to East Aurora, New York that August to see the Roycroft artist colony where he began his career.

My Dard Hunter summer culminated with writing “Grandson Reproducing Historic Designs,” the cover story of the August 22, 2003 issue of Business First’s special publication, Homefront. My article focused on Dard Hunter III, who creates and sells products bearing his grandfather’s original designs at Mountain House, his grandfather’s circa-1850 Chillicothe home and studio.

While researching the story, I made an intriguing discovery. Every February, an Arts & Crafts conference takes place at the Grove Park Inn, the Asheville, North Carolina resort that’s one of my favorite vacation destinations. Some conference-goers arrive early for workshops on Arts & Crafts-style coppersmithing, jewelrymaking, art pottery, printmaking and landscape design. Others extend their stay to embroider with Anne Chaves, owner of Inglenook Textiles in Pasadena, California, who designs kits for pillows, table runners, and clothing and accessories in authentic Arts & Crafts designs. Oh, how I wanted to attend, and bring home an embroidered Inglenook Textiles creation!

The Grove Park Inn is just one entry on my list of Arts & Crafts-themed travel destinations. You see, I’m also besotted with William Morris, the Englishman who not only wrote and hand-printed books of prose and poetry, but also designed wallpapers, textiles, and other decorative objects. Besides being a leading figure of the Aesthetic Movement, he was also associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, a group of English painters who were inspired by nature and medieval art to create detailed, brilliantly colored works.

At London’s Victoria & Albert Museum, I soaked up the Aesthetic atmosphere of the Green Dining Room, which Morris designed in 1866-1867. Beneath a patterned, gilded ceiling, blue paneling on a green wall is adorned with leaves, branches and berries. Stained-glass windows depict women holding garlands of flowers, while a frieze shows dogs chasing hares.

At the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C., I spent hours admiring every inch of the 1997 survey exhibition, The Victorians: British Painting in the Age of Queen Victoria, and The Pre-Raphaelite Lens: British Photography and Painting, 1848-1875, in 2010. For Pre-Raphaelites: Victorian Art and Design, on view there earlier this year, its companion catalogue was my virtual admission ticket to the exhibition. When I read that the exhibition included a bed pelmet, bed curtains and a bedspread embroidered by May Morris, William’s daughter, I thought about that Inglenook Textiles embroidery workshop again.

Not long after that, the mailman delivered an extra-special surprise. After reading about my “Marigold”-lined Morris Utility Jacket, a Sweet Briar friend sent me an embroidery kit that the National Gallery of Art’s shop was selling in conjunction with the exhibition. Called “The Beauty of Life: William Morris & the Art of Design,” the kit complemented a 2003-2004 exhibition of the same title at The Huntington in San Marino, California. It was designed by Inglenook Textiles.

Threading my needle with six shades of luxurious silk yarn from Treenway Silks, I used the satin stitch, stem stitch and trellis stitch to embroider roses, leaves and vines on linen. Watching the shimmering design take shape was a much-anticipated treat after a long day.

I still want to attend the Grove Park Inn Arts & Crafts Conference someday. Until I do, I’ll think about Dard Hunter, William Morris, and my thoughtful friend every time I plump up this special pillow.

 

Franklinton’s Birds Chirped, “Follow Us to Green Lawn Cemetery!”

Since its founding in 1848, Green Lawn Cemetery has provided a final resting place for many well-known figures in Columbus history, such as Worthington pioneer Orange Johnson, author James Thurber, Ohio Governor James Rhodes, and World War I aviator Eddie Rickenbacker.

While I’ve explored Green Lawn several times with my family and on Columbus Landmarks Foundation tours, I didn’t realize until lately that the cemetery has also been designated an Important Bird Area. About 3,000 trees, a pond, a ravine, and prairie grasslands in the 360-acre cemetery offer an idyllic habitat for a variety of resident birds, large numbers of migrating birds, and other wildlife. According to The National Wildlife Federation’s Where the Birds Are: The 100 Best Birdwatching Spots in North America, more than 200 species of birds have been spotted at Green Lawn, from thrushes, flycatchers and finches to sparrows, woodcocks and owls. Twenty-four warbler species have been seen here during migration, with another dozen or so spotted at other times, including the Mourning, Connecticut, Wilson’s, and Canada Warblers.

Darlene — together with Warren, a friend from my Bricker & Eckler days — led a Columbus Audubon Society tour of Green Lawn last Saturday morning, so I made plans to attend.

Driving through Franklinton, I noticed that the number of birds overhead seemed to increase as the cemetery drew nearer. “This way, Betsy! Follow us to Green Lawn!,” they chirped.

When I arrived at the cemetery, I joined eight other birders. Before we left the parking lot behind the administrative office, Darlene and Warren had spotted a Red-bellied Woodpecker, a Carolina Chickadee, Chimney Swifts, a Blue-gray Gnatcatcher, a House Wren, an Ovenbird, a Baltimore Oriole, an American Robin, a Northern Cardinal and a Rose-breasted Grosbeak. Darlene’s goal was to see an Olive-sided Flycatcher and hear its “quick-three-beers” song. Another birder had seen it at Green Lawn the day before.

Next, we caravaned to the large pond near the center of the cemetery to replenish bird feeders there. Formerly a small quarry, the pond naturally attracts bullfrogs and waterbirds like Mallards, but the feeders made it irresistible to Blue Jays, a Downy Woodpecker and an American Goldfinch.

Walking through a section of the cemetery overlooking the pond, we spotted a Brown-headed Cowbird and heard a Great Crested Flycatcher. Then, we noticed a shaking silvery-green tree. In its branches was a score of whistling Cedar Waxwings…and a Scarlet Tanager!

Warren pointed out a Phoebe nest in the imposing Howald monument. The Cedar Waxwings followed us on our stop at a circa-1898 ornate iron bridge. Later, a Great Blue Heron cruised overhead.

Other birds that Darlene and Warren helped us spot or hear included an Eastern Wood-Pewee, a Chipping Sparrow, an Indigo Bunting, a Wood Thrush, a Warbling Vireo, a Common Grackle, a White-breasted Nuthatch, a Cooper’s Hawk, a European Starling, an American Redstart, a Tree Swallow, a Mourning Dove, an American Crow, a Red-winged Blackbird, a Canada Goose, a House Finch, a Yellow Warbler, a Common Yellowthroat, a Turkey Vulture and a Gray Catbird. The spotted olive-brown bird that I saw dart into a glossy-leaved tree turned out to be a Swainson’s Thrush.

Before we parted company, we checked on four 11-day-old bluebirds nesting in a bluebird box at the cemetery’s butterfly garden. Their parents kept close watch on us as Darlene banded each sleepy, fluffy bird. Although I was at Green Lawn for birding, I sought out a few special cemetery monuments while I was there. Old habits die hard, you know.

My first stop was the grave of Emil Ambos, marked by a statue called “The Fisherman.” Ambos, a Columbus native who died in 1898 at the age of 53, was a friend of my great-great grandfather, John Heinmiller. Reading Bill Arter’s description of the statue in Columbus Vignettes IV and its entry in the Smithsonian American Art Museum’s Inventories of American Painting and Sculpture database helped me learn more about him. After attending Kenyon College, Ambos worked as a liquor dealer and lived on Town Street, where the former Lazarus department store stands. Besides being an avid horseman, this bachelor loved to fish. When he died, he left money for fellow fishermen to enjoy two dinner parties; the bulk of his estate went to Children’s Hospital.

This life-sized bronze sculpture overlooking Green Lawn’s pond was made by John Francis Brines in 1901 from a photograph of Ambos that was taken at Baker Art Gallery, the venerable Columbus photography studio. It depicts Ambos sitting on a rock, dressed to fish in a coat, vest, dress shirt, bow tie, a sportsman’s hat and pants protected by knee-high wading boots. He holds a fly rod in his right hand and a stringer holding a smallmouth bass in his left hand. A bait bucket is near his left foot.

After the birders dispersed, I went back to the front row of Section O, just behind Green Lawn’s chapel, to say hello to some of my Heinmiller ancestors. My great-great-great grandparents, Johann Conrad and Elizabeth Battenfeld Heinmiller, bought a plot when Green Lawn was founded. Now, the plot contains 23 other Heinmillers, including their son, “Uncle Henry,” the 6-foot, 4 ¼-inch Civil War veteran who served as chief of the Columbus Fire Department from 1869 until 1880. (Click here to see my post about him and some interesting objects connected with him, and here for my post about his fire chief’s helmet and speaking trumpet, now on display at the Ohio History Center.)

Before I left, I checked out two headstones in Section P, Lot No. 1, just behind the Heinmillers. They tell quite a story, and I’ll post it soon.

The Grange Insurance Audubon Center Is the Perfect “Third Place” for a New Birder Like Me

Last November, I wrote about OCLC being my Third Place. Step aside, OCLC! Last weekend, I found a new hangout that’s the perfect place for a new birder like me to spend time. It’s the Grange Insurance Audubon Center, a mile south of downtown Columbus.

Growing up in German Village, I knew the Whittier Street Peninsula on the Scioto River as the city’s impounding lot. Now, motorists travel to this spot, not to get their car out of the slammer, but to revel in wetlands, meadows of native plants, wildlife, and one nifty building.

About 10 years ago, the city of Columbus, Franklin County Metro Parks and Audubon Ohio teamed for an urban redevelopment project of a very different nature. The industrial wasteland — not far from the scene where I spent many memorable hours trying to master the fine art of bike-riding — is now a natural haven.

During their long journeys migrating from Central and South America each year, thousands of birds representing more than 200 species take a breather here. As a result, Audubon and Birdlife International have designated the Scioto Audubon Metro Park, along with Green Lawn Cemetery and Lou Berliner Park, as an Important Bird Area. The scientific, data-driven IBA designation is given to geographic locations that provide essential habitat for one or more species of breeding, wintering and or/migrating birds.

The feather in the nest of the Whittier Street Peninsula is the Grange Insurance Audubon Center. Dedicated in August 2009, the LEED Gold Certified building was built with recycled construction materials and is heated and cooled geothermally. Surrounded by native plant demonstration gardens and habitat areas, the center includes a natural playground area, a nature store, temporary and permanent educational and art exhibits, and four rooms for gatherings.

An outdoor observation deck and terrace with bird feeders and Adirondack chairs provides an inviting place to enjoy nature.The library’s expansive windows offer a picturesque view of downtown Columbus.

Rain chains and a clever stepped rooftop drainage system water the center’s rain garden.

Even the floor is worth checking out.

During my first visit to the center last Friday, I met my third birder: Dublin-based Jim, a volunteer at the center who has spotted 110 species so far this year with the binoculars he totes everywhere he goes. Jim shared several helpful birding hints, such as going to Glacier Ridge Metro Park to see Bobolinks and Glossy Ibis. By providing a generous buffet of peanuts, seeds and fruit in his home feeders, Jim has attracted birds like the gorgeous Scarlet tanager to his patch.

Like me, Jim came to the center for a special program that the National Audubon Society’s chief scientist, Dr. Gary Langham, gave about hummingbirds.

Before we watched the PBS NATURE documentary, Hummingbirds: Magic in the Air, Dr. Langham told us about Hummingbirds at Home, Audubon’s new citizen science program.

He explained that nearly all of the hummingbirds found in the United States and Canada are migrants. Each year, they travel from the tropics of Central America north to breed; then, they return home. Along the way, hummingbirds visit people’s yards, looking for nectar from gardens and feeders to help fuel their journey.

Audubon is interested in understanding how climate change, flowering patterns and feeding by people are impacting hummingbirds. Anyone can help them by participating in this easy and fun project.

Using a free downloadable app for any mobile device, you can report a single sighting or routinely document hummingbird activity in your community. The app offers menus to identify bird species, as well as choices of plants that feed them in the area. The program also features a website by which people can track, report on, and follow hummingbird migration in real time.

Before attending this program, my familiarity with hummingbirds was limited to hummingbird cake and my vintage moving hummingbird pin, which I wore for the occasion.

Now, I’m more well-versed on these tiny aerial acrobats with a talent for moving their wings in a figure 8, hovering, and even briefly flying upside down as they flit around. Their long, swordlike bills are perfectly designed for extracting nectar from their favorite flowers. Those same bills make these iridescent beauties aggressive predators, taking out bugs in a single Jaws-like chomp to get their protein.

As we watched the documentary, we learned how hummingbirds fill up on nectar by visiting more than 1,000 flowers between dawn and dusk. To save energy, they go into torpor, a nighttime hibernation-like state, during which their body temperature and heart rate drops and their breathing slows. At dawn, their vital signs return to normal.

We let out a collective gasp when we were introduced to the Marvellous Spatuletail, an endangered hummingbird from Peru. With two long racquet-shaped outer tails that cross each other and end in large violet-blue paddle-like discs, this dandy resembles a cowboy doing rope tricks.

Before we left, Dr. Langham told us about the Ruby-throated Hummingbird, Ohio’s only nesting species, so named because the male sports flashy ruby-red throat feathers. He also suggested how we could attract hummingbirds to our yards by offering them a safe place to perch and something tasty to eat. Although native plants are best, a hummingbird feeder will also do the job, he said.

The center was such a great place that I went back the next morning for its International Migratory Bird Day celebration. Scioto Gardens sold native, bird-friendly plants, while local artisans offered a selection of handmade pottery, jewelry, and other artistic creations. I picked out a tiny birdhouse pin and a birdhouse from my fairy garden, both crafted by an Asbury University student and her grandmother.

The highlight of the morning was watching bird-banding in action.

High concentrations of migrant birds rest and refuel at urban stopover sites during spring and fall, so the center is trying to become a better host to them. In addition to removing invasive plants and replanting native plants, it is also monitoring birds to evaluate the long-term effects of its habitat management. Data collected through banding wild birds increases understanding of migration species and breeding bird productivity and survivorship.

I’ve inventoried hundreds of McGuffey Readers, recording marginalia, flowers pressed between pages, and pencil drawings on their endpapers. And I’ve cataloged Civil War surgical amputation kits while sprawled out in the hallways of Glendower, the Greek Revival mansion in Lebanon, Ohio. But bird banding takes object-cataloging to a very different level.

After being captured in fine mist nets positioned in the meadows surrounding the center, the birds were brought back in little muslin drawstring bags and hung on a portable laundry-drying rack.  One by one, Anne, a staff member at the center, and her husband weighed each bag before carefully opening it, sticking their hand inside to get a secure hold on the bird. After pulling the bird out, they attached a tiny ring with a unique number on it to its leg, and told my volunteer friend Jim the number of the band.

As the bird patiently endured a physical examination, they called out details such as its weight, age, molt, fat content and sex.  They used a tiny ruler and a caliper to measure the bird’s wing, tail and tarsus.

When they were finished, they invited interested onlookers to release the bird back into the wild. You can see what a hit this was for everyone who watched.

Some birds already had bands on their legs. The unique number on the band helps to track the bird’s movements, so finding these recaptures provides helpful migration information.

Gray Catbirds were the most prevalent bird; 16 of these somber, mewing little friends with rust-colored feathers under the tail were banded that morning. House Wrens and an American Goldfinch were also banded. A Common Yellowthroat Warbler was too cold to participate in data collection, so Anne tucked it into her fleece jacket to keep warm. A gangly Brown Thrasher was not happy at all about being subjected to such behavior. Likewise, the Goldfinch chirped plenty of bird expletives as it was released.

Bird banding will continue at the center until the end of May. Other bird monitoring research and restoration activities will take place this summer.

“A Tough Little Hummer,” Jim McCormac’s engaging account of a Selasphorus hummingbird that visited a feeding station in Mansfield in December 2007, is what prompted me to attend last weekend’s programs. You’ll enjoy reading how data such as wing length, body fat, molt and coloration patterns, bill corrugations and weight were recorded, as Jim wrote, for a whopping champ who tipped the scales at 3.73 grams, about the same weight as a new penny.

If you’ve watched any bird banding, or have hummingbirds visiting your yard, I’d love to hear about it.

What Stinks? Why, It’s Woody!

There’s been a change to the editorial calendar so that I can share some breaking news with you. Woody is blooming!

This morning, The Columbus Dispatch reported that the rare titan arum, fondly known as the “corpse flower,” was about to bloom at The Ohio State University’s Biological Sciences Greenhouse. Late this afternoon, the flower was opening.

Since I’ll be at the Ohio Library Council all day tomorrow, learning about library directorship, and then at the Westerville Public Library in the evening, watching a live stream of Dan Brown speaking from Lincoln Center about his new Inferno, Nails and I saddled up Lucy Long and cantered down High Street after dinner to see the plant, nicknamed “Woody,” for ourselves.

Located at 332 West 12th Avenue, on Ohio State’s main campus, the Biological Sciences Greenhouse is home to an insectary of 130 species of insects and arthropods, a mosquito-rearing facility, and research greenhouse space. Its conservatory includes a collection of more than 1,200 tropical and desert plant species, including this beauty that is native to the Sumatran rainforests.

Arriving on the ground floor of the building where the greenhouse is located, we joined five other people waiting for the elevator. A jolly man sporting a bandana entertained us with tales of waiting hours to see the plant when it bloomed in the past. The elevator door opened, and one of Mr. Selfridge’s Elevator Girls whisked us up to the seventh floor.

A welcoming trio clad in titan arum tee shirts directed us down the hall, telling us not to miss the display of Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches.

After making another turn, we entered a long hallway with a crowd-control rope down the middle, with glass-doored rooms on either side. As we passed them, we looked in and saw all sorts of interesting-looking plants. “I’d like to go to school here,” Nails remarked.

Then, I caught a whiff of it. It was strong and stinky, like fermented sauerkraut with a side of rotten fish. Nails didn’t smell a thing.

Turning the corner, we saw Woody. Wow! Standing 72.5 inches tall, this was one big plant. When the tuber was repotted in November 2012, it weighed 49 pounds.

This is the second time that Woody has flowered. The first flowering was on April 23, 2011. Under the right conditions, titan arum can rebloom in two to five years. The flower’s stench attracts special pollinators who love decaying flesh.

This is what it looks like before it’s unfurled…

And this is how it appears on the inside.

I loved its velvety, frilly purple skirt, also known as a spathe, that surrounds the spadix, or spike.

More tee-shirted staff pointed out an emerging bud of another titan arum…

“Jesse,” a dormant tuber that blossomed last year…

two titan arum seedlings, aged six months and one year…

and some of the plant’s seeds, which came from the University of Wisconsin-Madison.

Across the hall, we saw an example of the plant’s leaf dormancy, lying on the floor.
It felt like a soft leather glove.

Since Woody will stop blooming tomorrow, the greenhouse has extended its normal business hours to accommodate the plant’s admirers. It will be open until 11 p.m. tonight and from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. tomorrow (Wednesday, May 15). If you’d like to say hello to Woody in person, park in Parking Garage K, make two quick lefts as you walk out of the garage, and look for the star-shaped balloons marking the double glass doors in the breezeway between Aronoff Laboratory and the parking garage. For those who’d like to admire Woody from the comfort of home, log on to bioscigreenhouse.osu.edu/titan-arum and click the links on the right of the page to view the plant on two live webcams.

Blooming Daisies Made for an Extra-Special Mother’s Day Brunch at Lakeside

Yesterday, the Butler triumvirate hit the road for a Mother’s Day field trip to Lakeside.

Our first stop was the 19-acre Lakeside Daisy State Nature Preserve in Marblehead. This is peak blooming time for the rare, threatened plant, so the rocky limestone landscape has been transformed into a sea of golden flowers. (Click here to read about my first visit to see the Lakeside daisy preserve last year.)

Arriving at Wesley Lodge for Lakeside’s annual Mother’s Day brunch buffet, we beheld another sea, this time one of dozens of round tables decked out in white tablecloths, pink napkins and flowering plants. We made several strategic trips to the groaning board, which included a prime rib carving station, pasta primavera, chicken breast stuffed with spinach and mushrooms, red skin creamed potatoes, carrots, green beans, a salad bar, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, fresh pineapple and strawberries, danishes, muffins, fruit pies, cupcakes and dessert bars. As he loaded up our plates with thick slices of prime rib, our friend Jason from Black Tie Catering told us about the spiffy facelift under way at the Hotel Lakeside Café, where we enjoy lakefront lunches during the Lakeside season.

Next, we waddled down Walnut Avenue to Second Street, where we stopped in to say hello to Miss Mercedes and admired an abundance of the Kay Morlock glass lampwork beads I started collecting last summer.

After surveying the progress on the Splash Park from the Lakeside pavilion…

…we took a windy walk along choppy Lake Erie. This footpath tops my list of frequent Lakeside haunts, and yesterday, it was extra-special, since the Lakeside Daisy Garden was also in full bloom. Walking up Elm Avenue from the sweet sky-blue, flower-topped “Spare Change” cottage, I dropped to the ground to take a long, eye-level look at a precious neighborhood of fairy gardens.

As Red-winged Blackbirds called their “checks” and swooped overhead, I also spotted plenty of Virginia Bluebells, an iconic reminder of my Sweet Briar-era visits to The Farm Basket in Lynchburg, Virginia and touring its neighboring homes along Langhorne Road during the city’s annual celebration of Garden Week in Virginia.

Knitting My “Shield of Norway” Mittens, I Conquered Fair Isle and Remembered My Visit to Trondheim, Norway

“A Cruise of Norway’s Fiords Reveals Scenic Treasures,” an article I wrote for the July 3, 1994 issue of The Columbus Dispatch, sums up the highlights of my August 1993 vacation in Norway.

Edvard Grieg’s Troldhaugen, Bergen, Norway

In Lillehammer, I rode the lifts that would transport the world-class skiers who would be competing in the 1994 Winter Olympics. In Oslo, I saw the Holmenkollen ski jump; the Kon-Tiki Museum, containing Thor Heyerdahl’s original balsa raft from his 1947 expedition from Peru to Polynesia; and Frogner Park, filled with more than 200 of Gustav Vigeland’s sculptures of human figures. After traveling by train across Norway to Bergen, I made a pilgrimage to Troldhaugen, the home of composer Edvard Grieg, where I saw the stained-glass rose window that inspired my Dale of Norway “Nina Grieg” sweater.

Then, I boarded the MS Kong Harald for Hurtigruten’s Norwegian Coastal Express, a six-day, 1,380-mile voyage along Norway’s western coast to the town of Kirkenes. During the journey, the ship sailed through fjords, passed maelstroms and crossed the Arctic Circle. It also made 36 short stops in coastal ports to deliver passengers, mail and cargo. One of those stops was at Trondheim, the home of Nidaros Cathedral, the largest church in Scandinavia.

While I relished the 22 hours of continuous daylight during a Norwegian summer, I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so cold. So, after wandering around the cathedral, I squeezed in some emergency shopping for a sweater at Trondheim’s Husfliden store before I had to return to the ship.

Since 1891, Norway’s spectacular Husfliden shops have offered fine handmade goods, such as rosemåling (Norwegian decorative painting), sølge (Norwegian traditional silver jewelry), bunad (Norwegian folk costume), and quintessentially Norwegian woolen ski sweaters.

I emerged with a classic pullover from the Setesdal district of southern Norway, hand-knitted in the traditional black-and-white Lusekofta, or “lice” pattern, embellished with pewter clasps and trimmed in embroidered wool bands reminiscent of a rosemåling design.

I also couldn’t resist a miniature hat and mittens hand-knitted in the Norwegian Selbu rose style, characterized by a white background and a black pattern that is a variation on the eight-pointed star. Originating in the district of Selbu, an hour east of Trondheim, Selbuvotter mittens have one pattern on the back of the hand, another pattern on the palm, and a pointed fingertip and thumb. For the rest of my voyage – and during every winter since then — I’ve loved wearing my sweater and pinning my tiny ski togs on my coat.

Nidaros Cathedral, Trondheim, Norway. St. Olav is in the middle row, fourth from the left, holding an ax.

Last November, I came across knitwear designer Cynthia Wasner’s post about her visit to Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim and Saint Olav on her blog, Norsk Needlework: at Home. (You can read the post here.) I learned how King Olav II, who brought Christianity to Norway, was killed in battle in 1030 and was buried somewhere around the place where the cathedral’s altar now stands. Since the saint and king suffered three wounds, one from a battle ax, the shield of Norway features an ax, as well as a crown and a lion. To celebrate the 200th anniversary of the Norwegian Constitution on May 17, 2014, Cynthia created knitting patterns for “Shield of Norway” mittens and a matching “Saint Olav” pullover. (Click here to see these two designs, as well as Cynthia’s other knitting patterns.)

Those mittens were such an appealing reminder of my visit to Trondheim that I made my first New Year’s resolution. In 2013, I was going to learn the right way to knit with two colors of yarn, and these mittens were going to be my first project.

In February, I took a two-session class on Fair Isle, the traditional art of stranded colorwork, and steeking, used in Fair Isle garments to form necklines and armholes. During the first session, we would learn how to knit in the round using two colors. The following week, we would practice working steeks in the swatch that we created the week before. “Steek,” a Scottish word meaning “to fasten or close,” is a technique that allows you to continue knitting in the round without interruptions for an opening, such as for the front of a cardigan or an armhole. Working a handful of extra stitches at the desired opening allows for the steek and picked-up stitches around it. When the knitting is finished, these extra stitches are cut down the center with scissors, creating an opening where the knitter can attach a sleeve or a button band.

The first class was a high-stress disaster. My fire-red face and my blotchy neck and chest belied my daily rosacea-controlling regimen of aggressive doses of Metrogel, Minocycline and Afrin. I couldn’t figure out how to pick, throw and wrap two colors of yarn at the same time, let alone keep track of quickly alternating stitches in each row. It was a nightmare. What had I gotten myself into?

Determined to solve this problem on my own, I watched a couple of Fair Isle tutorial videos on my iPad before I went to bed. The next day, I went to the library and brought home an armful of books and started teaching myself Fair Isle knitting. Besides mastering the technique, I picked up plenty of interesting facts about its fascinating history.

Fair Isle is the most southerly island of the Shetland Islands, just three miles long by two miles wide. Originally Norwegian, the Shetland Isles are now part of Scotland and are home to a hardy breed of sheep with fleece in 11 different colors, including white, reddish brown, gray, brown and black.

Yarn spun from Shetland sheep is the perfect choice for stranded knitting. Indigo, madder and yellow dyed colors of yarn are used in the bright, vibrant combinations of traditional Fair Isle knitting, which is thought to have started there around 1850.

Fair Isle knitting is characterized by horizontal bands of geometric patterns, arranged in an alternating sequence of small and large repeating pattern motifs in bright colors. There are three different types of patterns in Fair Isle knitting. “Peerie” is the Shetland dialect word for small, and peerie patterns are made in one to seven rows of knitting. Border patterns have between 8 and 15 rows. Large patterns have more than 15 rows.

Traditionally, Fair Isle knitting is done in the round, using circular or double-pointed needles, with the right side always facing, in only knit stitches. No more than two colors (a background color and a pattern color) are used in one round, or circular row, of knitting. The yarn not being used is carried across the back of the work, which is why it is called stranded knitting. Since the resulting knitted fabric has a double thickness, Fair Isle garments and accessories are very warm.

For the next several evenings, I concentrated in total silence, holding one color of yarn in my right hand and another in my left hand, slowly working my way around my circular needles, counting each stitch on each line of the pattern, and wrapping the unused yarn to create short strands on the back of my work. It was a little puckered, but it worked! I arrived at the second class with my completed swatch and managed to cut the steek without everything unraveling.

With that class out of the way, I was hot to get started on my mittens. I called Ingebretsen’s, my favorite source for all things Scandinavian, to order skeins of Rauma Finullgarn, a Norwegian fingering weight yarn for which the pattern called.

When the Ingebretsen’s box arrived, I sequestered myself and cast on for my project. Whipping out the easy ribbed cuff, I changed to larger double-pointed needles and slowly started tackling the cuff diagram for the right mitten. A nifty twisted border came next, followed by the pattern for the back and palm of the hand. I increased for the thumb, using a modified steek. Reaching the decrease row, I started shaping the mitten’s pointed top. I finished with the thumb, matching up the pattern on the inside of the thumb with the pattern on the palm. It worked! Knitting the left mitten went much faster. Soon, I had a not-too-puckered pair of mittens that fit perfectly, all ready to wear next season!

The books I checked out to teach myself Fair Isle knitting and learn about its history were: The Very Easy Guide to Fair Isle Knitting, by Lynne Watterson; Alice Starmore’s Book of Fair Isle Knitting; 200 Fair Isle Motifs: A Knitter’s Directory, by Mary Jane Muckelstone; Michael Pearson’s Traditional Knitting: Aran, Fair Isle and Fisher Ganseys; Scottish Knits: Colorwork & Cables with a Twist and Nordic Knits: 25 Stylish, Small Projects, both by Martin Storey; and Northern Knits Gifts: Thoughtful Projects Inspired by Folk Traditions, by Lucinda Guy. Selbuvotter: Biography of a Knitting Tradition, by Terri Shea, was another great resource. A Knit Picks tutorial called “Fair Isle or Stranded Knitting” and “Fair Isle 102: Securing Long Floats,” a post on the Osborn Fiber Studio blog, are bookmarked on my iPad.

My Nikon Sprint III Binoculars Gave Me a New Look at Mansfield’s Avian Attractions: Malabar Farm, The Ohio Bird Sanctuary and Kingwood Center

When my grandfather and I weren’t watching Marlin Perkins on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom, rocking to Lawrence Welk, or snacking on peanut butter-and-bacon toasted sandwiches, we would stand at the kitchen window of my grandparents’ Colonial Revival nest and watch birds filling up at feeders and having fun in bird baths. Here we are in February 1971. Grandpa and I would watch the birds with his French “Franklin” binoculars that he won as a 10-year-old in a circa-1918 birdhouse-building contest. 

Besides his aviator scarf, his plaid Pendleton shirts, and his fedora hat, his binoculars were one of his signature accessories. He took them on his famous trip to California, posing with them on the Tonto Trail in the winter of 1927-1928.   

When they weren’t slung around his neck, they were stored safely in their original case, in the bottom drawer of his dresser. My aunt Sally has them now. Here’s a photo of them that she took for me.

For a field trip to Mansfield last Saturday, I took along my Nikon Sprint III binoculars, an under-utilized gift I got 13 years ago for my 30th birthday. I discovered how enlightening it is to use them, not just to check out the audience and the ceiling during concerts at the Ohio Theatre, but rather to take a new, avian-focused, look at some old favorite haunts.

At Malabar Farm, Pulitzer Prize-winning author Louis Bromfield’s Colonial Revival home, I never tire of touring the “Big House” and taking in its scenic countryside vistas.  My most recent visit to Malabar, during last year’s maple sugaring festival, was one of the best.  (Click here to read about it.)

On this visit, though, I skipped the house tour and focused on Malabar’s natural resources. In front of the visitor center, gourd-shaped birdhouses hang to attract Purple Martins. Elsewhere, I learned that Malabar Farm is also home to over 25 species of permanent resident birds, over 50 species of summer resident birds, over 90 species of winter resident birds, 20 kinds of trees, and over 50 native and non-native species of flowering plants.

Some members of Malabar’s bird population lived in the farm’s songbird aviary, which was open for the last time this past weekend. Visitors could stroll along a boardwalk through this screened enclosed area and see several examples of songbirds and plants native to Ohio. Now, the birds are moving 12 miles away to the Ohio Bird Sanctuary in Mansfield.

Who knew there was a bird sanctuary in Mansfield? I certainly didn’t, so I drove over and checked it out. One pleasant surprise was nestled off a winding woodland road!

The Ohio Bird Sanctuary is a special place where 350 of Ohio’s native birds of prey and songbirds are being rehabilitated after injuries. Visitors can hike trails, see outdoor displays of live birds of prey, and walk through a songbird aviary.

The first birds I met were two Eastern screech owls named Bob and Lazarus. Bob’s tree was felled when he was just days old, and as the only survivor, people raised him. Lazarus suffered brain damage and impaired vision when he was struck by a car.

Walking past the well-appointed cages where a Cooper’s Hawk and a Short-eared Owl live, I jumped when an American Crow called shrilly, “Hi, y’all!” His neighbors — Seymour the Great-horned Owl, Phoenix the Harris Hawk, Apollo the Barred Owl, Athena the Barn Owl, Legacy the Peregrine Falcon, and Ichabod the Turkey Vulture — acted bored, like they had heard this dumb routine plenty of times before.

When I carefully opened the two sets of doors and stepped inside the songbird aviary, a Baltimore Oriole raced up to greet me. I thought I was in for a scene straight out of “The Birds.” When he settled down, I realized he was just being friendly.

A Blue Jay raced through dozens of laps around the aviary, while a Mourning Dove cooed contentedly in the corner. A Red-necked Pheasant pecked around on the ground. A Common Grackle, a Northern Cardinal, and a Cedar Waxwing flitted around the dogwood and other blooming trees inside the enclosed area.

 The Ohio Bird Sanctuary is also home to Benjamin Bunny, a Netherland Dwarf Rabbit who was born on Easter…

… and to Lucy, a Red Cochin Bantam Chicken that chose to lay her eggs in a basket she found in the sanctuary’s restroom.  What a place!

I even saw Kingwood Center, the public garden located on the former Mansfield estate of Charles Kelley King, with new eyes on this trip. For as long as I can remember, I’ve headed right for Mr. King’s home, my nest of choice, with its horticultural library, flower-arranging room and elegant furnishings, and the seasonal garden displays that surround it. This time, though, the greenhouse is what got my attention. With 12 weeks to go before my trip to Ireland, I noticed Irish Lace (Nephrolepsis exaltata) among the tropical displays and a Red-headed Irishman (Mammillaria spinosissma) in the succulents room. On my next visit, I’m going to try to track down some of the 29 species of birds that have been spotted at Kingwood, according to bird observations that have been recorded on eBird.