Red-Tail Designs

See all that yummy juice at the bottom? Relaxation in a jar.

Sometimes I think about those cordial glasses. I wish I’d kept them. We came across the colorful collection of tiny glasses while cleaning out the my husband’s grandparent’s house. The glasses were tiny and dainty, stemmed, widely hued, on a little tray .

I didn’t drink cordials. Bleck! Overly sweet stuff. The cordial glasses were odd and fun and I thought about keeping them.

But I was trying to be restrained and practical. The pack rat in me wanted to take every treasure from that house and stuff it into every every nook and cranny of my house “just in case” I needed it sometime in the future. I’d already acquired a sewing machine and dining room ensemble, china and funky green mixing bowls, plus a myriad other things from their 90 years of life.

So I put the cordial glasses in the “to sell” box, so as not stuff them into some nook and cranny of my house. How I wish I kept them “just in case,” because just in case has come.

About 2 years ago in the middle of winter a friend gave me a small glass of strawberry cordial. I took it to be polite since Bleck! cordials are overly sweet alcohol.

It was the best drink I ever had.

Despite the chill outside, I could feel the June sun warming the straw-covered field, the scent of strawberries in the air.  I was hooked. The best part was she made the cordial herself.

Since that fateful day, I’ve been making fruit cordials with summer’s bounty. I just made my first batch of strawberry cordial for the year and I’ll be making more. Last year, the strawberry cordial never even made it to the liquor cabinet. Upcoming will be peach, blueberry, raspberry and cherry cordial.

Once you see how ridiculously easy this recipe is, you’ll wonder why you never made this before.

Strawberry Cordial

Ingredients:

• Strawberries
• Sugar
• Vodka
• Large wide-mouth jar

Directions:

1. Wash and hull strawberries, then slice in half or quarters. If the berries are small, no need to cut them.

2. Place a layer of strawberries in the bottom of the jar. Sprinkle sugar over top. Layer more strawberries, then more sugar. Repeat until you get to the top of the jar.

3. Pour vodka into the jar slowly until it reaches the top of the jar. Put lid on tightly and store in a cool dry place for 2 weeks.

3. Strain out the strawberries and put in freezer for future use (more on that in the next post). Enjoy the cordial. If the cordial is too sweet, stir in more vodka. If the taste is too strong on the alcohol side, add more sugar.

There are no quantities for this recipe because you can do this with any size jar and any amount of fruit, be it strawberries, peach, blueberries, raspberries, blackberries or any other fruit you want to try.

Last year's collection of cordials in the works: peach, cherry, blueberry and raspberry. Sadly, they are all gone.

Next class: 4-strand round horse hair bracelet

Sunday’s Porcupine Quillwork Classes went off without a hitch. We had a small class, which let everyone ask lots of questions and really get a feel for quillwork.

We even had visitors. A box turtle moseyed by before class started. During class a pair of red-tailed hawks screamed overhead. We have the class outside in the pavilion where we can enjoy some fresh air, see the equestrians and runners out for some exercise on the path and log some nature time.

Surprise guest: A female box turtle, ready to lay her eggs, wandered through class.

The participants had such a great time that they asked for a horse hair bracelet class next!

Details are still sketchy, but right now, I’m looking at July 26, August 2 or August 30 for the class. I know some of you out there are interested in this class, so please e-mail me with the date(s) that works best for you.

All supplies for classes are provided, but if you have a horse, you are welcome to bring your own horse hair. I’ll give you instructions for cleaning it in advance of the class.

An alligator chewing on the coveted balloons, which are inside a tin I bought at a yard sale this weekend.

Here’s a great rainy (or sunny) day activity…a treasure hunt.

The kids requested a treasure hunt this morning and rather than draw a map like I usually do, I used my daughter’s Vtech digital camera to take pictures of objects near the treasures. The kids scrolled through the pics and figured out their location.

The pictures get progressively harder to identify. Plus some of the toys were not in their usual places, so those finds were a little more challenging. I refrained from making this a lesson in putting your toys away and let them have fun while being stumped.

The first round involved “treasures” I had around the house: unused stickers from the sticker bin, balloons (the biggest hit), tumbled rocks, and some cards they can write notes on later.

By the second and third treasure hunt, I ran out of treasure. My daughter suggested using candy from a recent birthday party as the booty.

The kids have since made it their own game, taking pictures of objects for each other to identify. IDing and stumping each other is the “treasure” now.

This was an awesome activity that occupied more than a hour and I had nothing to clean up afterward. That’s a great game. Next time, we’re going to try it outside.

Porcupine Quillwork Part 1: Colors of the Past
June 7, 2009 10 a.m. to 12:30 p.m.

Porcupine Quillwork Part 2: Stories in the Quills
June 7, 2009 1 p.m. - 3:30 p.m.

Pre-register for the classes by June 3, 2009

Download this pdf for more information and the registration form.

Plaiting porcupine quills. All the prickly ends get sniped off when the braiding is done.

The Museum of Indian Culture will be hosting me on June 7, 2009, to teach two Porcupine Quillwork classes. You can join me for one class, although you get a 15% discount if you attend both classes, plus an additional discount if you’re a Museum member. You can become a member of the Museum of Indian Culture when you sign up for the classes. The pdf contains more information about pricing and how to sign up. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me through e-mail or at 610-905-8399.

A feather quilled on a leather pouch using the zigzag stitch. This stitch is taught in the Porcupine Quillwork Part 2 Class.

It’s been a while since I taught a quillwork class, but I just demonstrated at the Museum’s latest powwow. I meet a surprising number of people at the powwow who have an appreciation for porcupine quillwork, since this art is often overlooked in favor of beadwork.

Porcupine quillwork pre-dates the beadwork we often associate with Native American Indians. Using available resources, Native Peoples developed a technique for embroidering porcupine quills onto leather or wrapping quills around rawhide and sinew to make intricate patterns.

This was the pre-1500s, when steel needles, cotton thread and glass beads weren’t yet developed in the Americas. Native women harvested the quills from porcupines, clean them and dyed them using local plants such as blueberries, sassafras and sunflowers. The women placed the quills (very carefully!) in their mouths to soften them to a pliable state, then pulled the quills through their teeth to flatten them. Flattened quills were embroidered onto brain-tanned leather using sinew (that’s tendon from deer, elk or buffalo). The quills were also wrapped around rawhide.  Natives adept at this art could embellish nearly anything: war shirts and moccasins, pipes and tobacco bags, feathers and hair pieces.

(Don’t worry: in our classes we use dishes of water and spoons to flatten quills and artificial sinew to sew the quills).

The porcupine quill plait, taught in Porcupine Quillwork Part 1, is wrapped around this feather.

Not every tribe practiced this art. The Plains Indians are best know for their exquisite quillwork, but quillwork is also common among the Athabaskan and Metis peoples. Debate still goes on over whether eastern woodland peoples, like the Lenape, practiced quillwork since our humid eastern conditions would not allowed samples of this work to survive at archaeological sites.

The Micmac people practice quillwork on birchbark, which is a different type of quillwork that is equally intricate, but a different set of skills than embroidery. (I don’t teach quillwork on birch bark).

Come out and join us for a day of delving deep into history as you learn the dying art of Porcupine Quillwork. When you sign up for the class, you’ll also gain entry into the museum during our breaks. The Museum of Indian Culture just unveiled its beautiful new Plains Indian exhibit. Bring your lunch and make a day of the two classes.

Hope to see you there!

This daisy, which opened its petals yesterday, was a result of my Darwinian Gardening. But I'll save that story for another day.

I am a Darwinian Gardener.

There. I admitted it for all the world to see. And this year I’m going to embrace my role as a Darwinian Gardener.

What is a Darwinian Gardener, you say? We are the people who don’t plan gardens, but rather spontaneously create then, on the spur of the moment, without very little forethought or attention afterward, so the garden becomes an experiment in survival of the fittest.

Here’s how it works: One random day the sun is shining and I think, “I have 2 hours to plant some seeds.” I dig into my seed jar that has seeds from my previous residence (circa 1999), pick out some seed and plant it.

Is it past the frost date? Who knows?

Did you remember to water the starts? Water? Isn’t that why we have rain (even though we haven’t seen a drop for 3 weeks)?

Does it need full sun, partial sun or shade? Huh?

Lettuce doesn’t like heat. Hey, you’re only a quitter until you try planting lettuce in June.

Are those two going to cross-pollinate? Maybe I’ll create a bigger, better more amazing hybrid that will take over the world! Bwah-ha-ha (that’s my evil Darwinian Gardener laugh).

Lamb's quarters getting a drink of rain this morning. And look! Some onion grass, too.

I didn’t become a Darwinian Gardener on purpose. I grew up among 3 enormous gardens. My mom is an amazing gardener who had many things to teach me, but I ignored her because, while my body pulled weeds, my mind dreamed of playing in the woods. And I complained a lot about how hot it was and how hard it was to bend over. Complaining takes a lot of effort.

It’s not as if I couldn’t be a good gardener. I could, if I put the time and effort into it. But right now, my time and effort are spent elsewhere, raising kids, running a small business, maintaining a 100-year-old house and being the craftiest girl on the block.

Oddly enough everyone thinks I’m a good gardener. In my wildlife rehabilitation days, I nurtured all sorts of critters back to health, from red-tailed hawks and great blue herons all the way down to bullfrogs and baby bunnies. So people assume I’m as careful and attentive to plants. I’m not. But that doesn’t stop them from asking me for advice.

My advice: “Put it in the ground and see if it grows.”

And really, I want to have huge, lush gardens. I want to live off the land and say, “I grew that and fed my family.” I dream of vegetable gardens and cutting gardens, terraced with rocks, flowing with fountains, erupting with interesting vegetative textures and colors, filled with whimsical garden ornaments.

A rather funny dream since my yard is barely big enough to accommodate 2 kids, 1 dog, 2 adults, a couple of pea plants and a massive amount of toys.

I have not given up these dreams, but this year I’m letting go of the expectations for big gardens. I’m letting go of the guilt of not getting my peas in by St. Patrick’s day or my lettuce in by… whenever lettuce was supposed to be in the ground.

As my friends discussed seeds and starts, height of pea plants and when the radishes will be done, I realized that Darwinian gardening isn’t just about survival of the fittest plant, it’s about embracing opportunities as a gardener. Two of my grand gardening friends have huge, beautiful gardens and they could use a weeder. A few more friends dove into the deep end without life preservers, signing up for large plots in the local community garden. They’ll definitely need help.

Rather than struggle to get my own garden in, I’ll show up at their gardens with a “Will Weed For Food” sign around my neck. I’ll help them be great gardeners and be paid in cucumbers and eggplants.

The opportunities in my “weed patch” abound, as well. The progeny of last year’s pumpkins and tomatoes always sprout up and the birds plant sunflowers up and down the yard. Uncultivated areas are rife with lamb’s quarters, a local weed that is also edible. Think native spinach. Yum.

Don’t worry, I’ll still be throwing seeds in the ground to see who survives. But this year, I’ll do it with pride as a Darwinian Gardener.

Aren’t these mushrooms just the coolest thing ever?

Even better…they showed up unexpectedly on my doorstep today, a Mother’s Day Gift from my sister-in-law’s family. When the husband says, “Did you know there are boxes from Plow and Hearth on the porch,” you don’t walk, you run to find out what goodness can be awaiting.

Thanks Kris & Co! This made my day…no my month!

My treasure hunters trying out their new cargo-pants-turned-field-bags.

What better way to recover from a weekend than a creativity binge?

Instead of cleaning my studio and re-shelving all my props from the Powwow this weekend, I’ve been sewing up a storm. At last count I had 2 field bags, 6 bibs and a bunch of cloth napkins.

The Powwow was a good time, despite the weather. Saturday the sun showed up, and therefore, so did the crowds. I demonstrated porcupine quill, wrapping a rawhide medicine wheel with dyed quills.

Sunday saw a stead rain ALL day. Honestly, in the 5 years I’ve done this festival (3 times a year, at that) this is the first time it rained for an entire day. Rather than be miffed by the fact that rain keeps the crowds away, I took it as a vacation day. It’s all in the attitude, right?

I sat under a dry tent, worked on an easy quillwork project and listened to the rain. No kids to entertain, no laundry or cleaning to distract me. Just drinking coffee, listening to the drums and the music of the weather, enjoying my craft. During the especially slow afternoon, my neighbor the flintknapper and I traded secrets; I showed him some quillwork, he let me bang rocks together.

Although the spectators were few, the Native dancers were still out there dancing in the rain. In a day and age where rain equals holing up in front of the TV, it’s great to see people who aren’t scared off by a bit of weather.

Come Monday morning I didn’t record my sales for taxes or put away quills. Instead, I set to work on some treasure-hunting field bags for the kids. I saw this idea on some one’s blog (if it was you, let me know so I can give you credit!) to turn turn old cargo pants into a kid bag with lots of pockets. I cut off the legs, sewed up the bottoms and added new fabric to make the strap and flap. The kids were so excited. A great place to stash all their dandelions and rocks from neighborhood walks. My pockets will be so empty!

Bibs and napkins will keep everyone clean!

The studio is still a mess, maybe even a bigger mess. But the way I look at it, I am cleaning up my studio by using the fabric crowding the space. It’s all in the attitude, right?

Susan of Heart to Hearth sorting beans at the fall 2008 Powwow.

It one of those weekends in the Lehigh Valley when everything is happening at once and unfortunately, I can’t be at everywhere at the same time. Damn!

Guess what they were roasting over the fire at the Powwow?

I’m preparing the the Museum of Indian Culture’s May Powwow, the Planting Corn Festival. Look for me demonstrating quillwork in the Lifeways area of the Powwow.  Kids can make drums and rainsticks in the childrens area. Learn more about Native living in the past and present through demonstrations and watching Native American Indians in regalia dancing to the beat of the drum. The Powwow has representatives from Native tribes across North America, dancing, singing and having a good time.

The swearing is because it’s also the opening weekend for the Easton Farmer’s Market. I’ve been craving a good, fresh salad. And this year’s vendors include a winery, cheese monger, soap and salsa, along with the fresh produce. A little vino and cheese with that salad?

Okay, so maybe I should save the swearing because the Farmer’s Market runs until October, so there’s always next Saturday. Check out this interesting article about the new crop of farmers (pun intended) at the Farm Market this year.

May 2 is also the Easton House Tour. That’s where you to go inside the interesting old houses and the historical buildings in the Easton. This tour has been going on for years and I’ve been missing it for years.

One of these days…

An order of horse hair bracelets I just finished.

The past two weeks have been a series of ups and downs.

On the up part: I have a new nephew! While I cannot claim the birds put my sis-in-law into labor, I know she’s glad baby is finally here. We can’t wait to meet the new little guy in person!

We also had an addition to our immediately family: A Nikon D60 digital SLR camera. I am in love with this! Finally the pictures in my head can become reality on my blog and in my brochures. All it takes is the right equipment. I am embarrassed to say that up to this point I was using a point and shoot to create all my photos.

The photos throughout this post are courtesy of my new Nikon. Aren’t they gorgeous? Look at the colors in those horse hair bracelets. It’s unbelievable. I think I’ll finally enjoy photography.

Another plus for the week: RedTailDesigns is on Twitter! You can follow what I’m doing and how I’m progressing on your order through Twitter. Got to www.twitter.com to sign up and add me to your follow list.

On the downside, I miss Saint. Oddly enough, it’s those moments he’d be underfoot that I miss him most. I ducked in the house the other day and did my usual evasive maneuvers at the door so Saint wouldn’t squash the eggs in the grocery bags while he sniffed my legs. But he wasn’t there to greet us. So sad.

Our Labrador Retriever seemed unfazed at first, but when she refused to eat her puppy-bone, we knew she was missing her buddy. The sadness for her was short-lived, though, as she’s loving all the extra attention, walks and freedoms as only-dog.

Thanks to everyone for your kind comments about Saint. It will get easier, I know, especially as we jump feet first into this season of renewal.

Happy Spring!

1996-2009

A few weeks ago I got a call from a woman who wanted a horse hair bracelet made for her daughter. She spelled out the specifics and wanted it done in time for her daughter’s birthday. Her daughter’s horse had just died, a horse she’d had nearly 15 years. I could hear the woman’s voice crackle and her breath suck in hard as she tried to hold back her tears all the way across the country.

This is nothing new to me. As a person who makes horse hair jewelry, I hear all kinds of stories of horses, of their heroic efforts, their special friendships, their sad departures. I listen, knowing it’s hard, yet necessary, for these people to talk about friends who sometimes have been with them for half of their lives. I make jewelry to honor these horses. Sometimes I joke that I should charge for the therapy rather than the jewelry.

Now it’s time for therapy for me. It’s unfortunately time for me to share my story.

My beloved German Shepherd, Saint, died yesterday. He would have been 12 or 13 this year. We’re not sure exactly how old he was because we got him “used” when he was approximately 3 years old.  At that time we already had a pure bred Labrador Retriever. I wanted a dog who needed a home, not a pure bred anything.  I imagined a mutt of small stature, black body and brown markings like a doberman and maybe tipped or floppy ears.

What I got was 92 pounds of tall, lean dog. Someone somewhere knew my dream as a kid to have a German Shepherd.

The only papers we had on him were scribblings on a fax from his previous vet, but he was certainly purebred. Not just in his looks, but in his heart. He had all the characteristics of German Shepherd: loyal, graceful, not easily confined and, oh, that exceedingly annoying Shepherd whine.

He loved his pack of people. If they were our peeps, they were his peeps, and he didn’t like us to split up or stray too far. When we came home late, he checked the kids’ rooms to see if they were in their beds. And nights the kidlets stayed at Grandma’s he was a bit worried about them, camping out in their rooms.

A younger Saint, celebrating 4th of July

His grace came through when he hopped over our back fence to take himself for a walk because we hadn’t given him enough exercise. He visited a few neighbors and then returned, or was escorted, back home.

His deep bark kept unwanted salespeople off our porch and let us know the mail had arrived.

What truly made us know he was a German Shepherd, though, was his quirkiness.

He was absolutely sure cats were hatching a plot to take over the world. He did his part in subduing these plots, chasing off all outside offenders and pinning the cats in our house with his massive jaws.

He also believed strongly in birth control. He wanted no more kids to look after and developed a tendency to bark whenever my husband and I kissed.

Saint thought fetch was a dumb game. Only a retriever was stupid enough to bring a ball back to someone who would just throw it again!

He wasn’t too sure of those little dogs that barked incessantly. They may have been cats in disguise (see cat plot, above).

Saint loved celery ends as much as he loved lambs ears and sheepskin toys.

He learned to tolerate water since our yellow lab loves the river.

Saint came with his name, but I couldn’t imagine a better name for such a wonderful dog. He patiently waited as strangers, from babies on up, pet him. People stopped their cars in the street to tell us how beautiful he was, and boy was he ever gorgeous.

Although the family dog, he was truly my dog. I think in his mind, he was the alpha male and I was the alpha female. On his last day of life, he conceded his alpha-dogness to my husband. He wouldn’t listen to me and followed my husband around. I think he was giving over trust of the family to my husband (although I’m hoping my husband will refrain from putting cats with his mouth).

Saint had been hiking, backpacking and canoeing with us. He went on an East Coast road trip in the back of a Jeep Wrangler with us. He went to Grandma’s for Christmas and Grandpa’s for 4th of July. He’d been to Easton Heritage Days and the Easton Farmer’s Market.

Saint was an important part of our family and we’re going to miss him dearly.