doily |ˈdoilē|
noun ( pl. -lies)
an ornamental mat, typically made of lace and placed under decorative objects.
• a small ornamental napkin, typically placed under a cake or other sweet foods.
ORIGIN late 17th cent.: from Doiley or Doyley, the name of a 17th-cent. London draper. The word originally denoted a woolen material used for summer wear, said to have been introduced by this draper. The current sense (originally doily napkin) dates from the early 18th cent.

My Mom, whom I lost in August of last year unexpectedly, was the Queen of Doilies. I can’t remember ever seeing her without a doily in progress. Her fingers fairly flew, the crochet hook flashing in and out of the threads. She would only glance down every now and then to check her work. She learned to crochet as a young child from her mother. She tried to interest me in learning how to crochet, but I couldn’t be bothered with all that fiddly thread. A real shame, that. I can single crochet a rag rug and that’s about the extent of it. 

I have many doilies, table runners and a few tablecloths all worked by my mom and grandmother. What better “D” than that I ask yout?

Stitch upon intricate stitch that ultimately turn out to be spirals, stars, pinwheels, and pineapples (Mom’s fav!).

Before I started knitting I really could not tell the right side of the doily from the wrong side. Every time Mom came to visit she would inspect the doilies I had been displaying, tut-tutting as she flipped them over to the correct side up. oops. It drove my Mom crazy that I liked my doilies “au naturelle.” She always starched and ironed hers so they were crisp. Alas, I am not that way, and my style of housekeeping will testify to that. My doilies tend to the more relaxed side of life. More laisser-faire is my mode. Definitely. To me it doesn’t take away from their beauty or timeless elegance.

Treasures and heirlooms, all. Thank you, Mom and Memom for keeping up with the wonderful tradition of crocheted doilies.

Today Mother Nature has been busy all day long creating patterns on everything in sight. She is using snow as her medium today. Lovely, fluffy, snow that has been accumulating all day long. Finally.

While she’s been busy outside, I’ve been working on my own pattern while sitting by a cozy fire inside. My chosen medium is yarn. I am attempting the Japanese Vines pattern from Michelle’s blog. Blogger Not Plain Jane is to blame for this newest obsession of mine: lace. I must have started this scarf at least ten times, only to frog it. Have you ever had something that you just couldn’t seem to get right? This was it for me. But I kept trying and finally have it going. It’s very addictive! The pattern is gorgeous (at least I think so). It will be a gift for my friend, Carolyn.

The color is actually a plummy purple but it looks more blue in the photos. Yummy indeed! The yarn is a silk/wool blend from String Theory and is wonderful to work with. It’s hard to put down now that I finally mastered it!

Now back to enjoying our snow ...

The night before last we were rudely shaken awake by a rolling clap of thunder. It felt like an earthquake, and we could feel the house shudder. Within one second our bed was taken over by three large, panting, nervous dogs. It was pouring rain—at last. This pattern of heavy rain mixed with sporadic bursts of thunder and lightening that happened only when we had drifted back off to sleep, continued through the wee hours of the morning. We got over an inch and half of rain; but not much sleep. You won’t find me complaining though since our thirst-parched grass and trees really needed a big drink of water. I just wish it would do it during non-sleeping hours.

It feels a bit as if we’ve hurtled through space at warp speed to land somewhere completely different. This morning finds it 38 degrees F outside and we had to turn on the heat. Last week we had the air conditioning on. Can we finally call it Autumn? Has summer finally released her firm, hot grip?

The trees are slower to change this year by at least a week. Last year our trees were in their full glory by the 17th of October, but they won’t be there by then this year. The squirrels and bears are really foraging for acorns. I’ve noticed that we have an awful lot of acorn caps, but the acorns appear to have been “squirreled” away somewhere. Odd. Last year we had tons of acorns left all over the ground. Do they know something that we don’t?

I will be glad to finally put away my summer clothes and bring out my cute little cropped jackets I’ve been waiting to wear. I’m working on a new pair of fingerless mitts  that I hope to have completed soon. They are from a free pattern that Clara at Knitter’s Review graciously gave out in her newsletter to introduce her new book, The Knitters Book of Yarn, which I have ordered.

But, photos of trees changing and finishing my mitts will have to be put on hold for a week. Tomorrow we are off to Sin City: Las Vegas for a week. Rick will mostly be working at a trade show while I have the difficult job of seeing how the Botanical Garden at the Bellagio has been transformed for Fall, lounging by the the 13 flamingo-inhabited acres of pool at our hotel, window shopping, and well ... you get the idea. I’m really looking forward to this little vacation. I plan to at least post a photo per day, so I won’t really be gone; just warped into the land of adult make-believe. I need it. I’ll meet you on the flip side of reality.

After our big mushroom find of the morning, we set off for our foray in the afternoon to Two Pond Farm. Even though it was hot and sunny, we had been told to wear long pants since we’d be walking in the forest through lots of brambles. Oh joy: more rose thorns, probably.

We were charmed the moment we turned into the driveway of Two Pond Farm. A rambling, old farmhouse stood proudly between two large ponds along with a barn and outbuildings scattered behind it. Allison came to greet us, and since we were the first to arrive and she wasn’t sure how many other people would be joining us, we sat down on the steps of her front porch to wait. She showed us a basket of mushrooms that she had just gathered earlier that day. This was our goal for today: delicious honey mushrooms! She explained how to identify them and we talked a bit about how to prepare them. She told us that there were not nearly as many as there usually are due to the weather, but hoped we’d find some we could take away with us.

We turned out to be the only ones that showed up for the foray. Before starting, Allison brought out a jar of honey mushrooms that she had pickled herself and some bread so we could sample their taste. They were delicious! We asked her how she made them and vowed to prepare them that way if we were lucky enough to find some. Knowing how good they were made us all the more excited to get started.

Past the turkey coop and up through the pasture we went. We started seeing older mushrooms right away, but they weren’t good for picking. Not ten minutes into our adventure and we were finding smaller, fresher mushrooms that found their way into our bag. Oh boy! We went through areas of blueberry bushes scattered with old oaks and the shrooms really seemed to like this environment. I had to be careful where I walked since they were hard to see through the scrubby bushes. I was glad for my jeans even though the sun was hot. Before long we had entered the forest.

Here are a group of honey mushrooms growing on an oak. Allison explained to us that the mycelium for the honey mushrooms usually takes over dead oak trees and spreads throughout the tree, so you find them growing on the tree itself or anywhere along the root system. When the tree can no longer feed the mycelium, it dies.

Somewhere along the way I met up with my buddies—the thorns—and they snagged my arm. ouch! It bled profusely (those thorns are so sharp!) and I had to grab a few green leaves to staunch the flow. I swear, those bushes just do not like me!

The mushrooms weren’t plentiful, but we found enough to suit our needs. We didn’t want to be too greedy and help ourselves to all the mushrooms we saw; after all it was her property we were searching for them on.

Back at the farm we explored her small organic shop operated on the “honor system.” People come by to purchase her home-grown organic veggies, eggs, and homemade marmalades, leaving the money in a lock box. We couldn’t resist a winter squash, some red onions and a jar of her Tomato-Peach-Ginger Marmalade. They also raise turkeys, lambs, and pigs for people. You make your purchase a year in advance and they raise it and butcher it for you. She has her own flock of sheep from which she spins her own yarn. I asked her if she would be willing to give me a few lessons as I would like to learn to spin and she said she would. How wonderful is that?! I plan to follow up on this before too long.

We came home and Rick started blanching the mushrooms before I even had a chance to photograph them! Oh, well. You can see the results of our foray; two jars of delicious pickled mushrooms, resting in their bath of olive oil and herbs.

The honey mushrooms are probably done for the year, but we’ll be going back to Two Pond Farm before too long I should think. If for no other reason than to get another jar of that wonderful marmalade. They also run a cut-it-yourself Christmas tree lot, and I can certainly see that activity coming up in our not-too-distant future!

SIGH. Sam, our Maine Coon cat, is always in trouble for something. He is into everything! He is the epitome of a problem child. He gets in these moods—and you can see it in his eyes—where he is just looking for trouble. And, he usually finds it. This time I didn’t see it coming. I had been knitting on my purple lace scarf and laid it down on top of my knitting basket while I went to chat on the computer to a friend about her brand-new litter of puppies.

After about 15 minutes or so, I sat back down to take up my knitting again. It was gone; nowhere in sight. Poof! Disappeared into thin air. It took me a minute to digest this dilemma, and then I took action. My first reaction was to blame the dogs who were all laying around looking innocent. They said they didn’t do it. Okay, maybe they didn’t carry it off, they certainly didn’t look guilty enough. I looked all around for it in the kitchen and sunroom, and finally my search led me into the dining room. Such a sight beheld my eyes! My lovely scarf was on the floor, and the ball of yarn was wrapped around the chair and table legs in a very neat web.

It was then that I knew who the guilty party was. Look closely in the photo below and tell me if you can spot him. Sam strikes again.

What to do? I just stood there for a minute, taking it all in. And then I started to laugh. I just couldn’t help myself. He had done such a good job. It was obvious he went around in the same pattern twice with the ball of yarn in his mouth. Just look at the precision in which this web was woven!

I just couldn’t be mad at him. There was no harm done—no dropped stitches, or rips or tears. I only wish I had seen him in action. I had been right in the next room but I didn’t hear a thing. Usually when he’s tearing around the house he makes his little chirpy-burry noises, but this time he was quiet as a mouse.

Now watch the video where I question the accused.
[Note: If you don’t want the QuickTime videos to play on opening my blog, go into your preference setting in QuickTime and under “movies” make sure you un-check the “play movies automatically” setting. I tried YouTube with this one, but it was taken in such bad light their version was too grainy.]

I hereby find the defendant, Sam, GUILTY as charged. Knitting rescued. Case closed.