Bookbinding

Yesterday, YouTube recommended a video by Sea Lemon about binding journals by hand. Me being me, I fell down the bookbinding video rabbit hole and learned just a little about a lot of different bookbinding techniques.

Today, I gathered up some scrap paper, needle and thread, and a few other supplies, and tried my hand at it while my son watched the Cartoon Network. I’m definitely not super adept at sewing by hand yet, and there’s a very important element of precision involved… but I could see this sort of thing possibly being part of a thoughtful handmade gift or three.

Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day: November 2020

We finally got a killing frost a couple days back, followed by high winds and rain today. Up until then, though, a few blooms were hanging in there in my Zone 6 garden.

The nasturtiums kept on keeping on right up until the temps dropped below freezing.

Even after the frost, this volunteer zebra mallow was perky and colorful. Not until today’s high winds did it start to look like it was done for the season.

I’ve already blogged about Crocus sativus a couple of times, so I’ll just note that I managed to harvest saffron threads from six crocuses before the frost. Eighteen saffron threads should be enough to make one recipe of something delicious. Hopefully I’ll get more blooms (and a bigger saffron harvest) after they’ve settled in for a year.

Indoors, the Thanksgiving cactus is almost in bloom, and a couple of kalanchoes are providing orange and fuchsia accents… but I’ll save photos of those for next month, when the outdoors is bereft of blooms to share.

Thanks as always to Carol Michel for hosting Garden Bloggers’ Bloom Day on the 15th of each month! As Elizabeth Lawrence said, “We can have flowers nearly every month of the year.”

That’s My Boy

It’s a typical Sunday morning: Connor’s in the La-Z-Boy, playing on his tablet — sounds like Angry Birds at the moment — and I’m sitting on the couch, taking care of random stuff on my laptop while doing laundry.

“Mom! Wanna watch these piggies go into orbit?”

Connor jumps out of the recliner and beelines for the couch, bumping the “vintage” coffee table with the wobbly leg, sloshing some coffee out of my cup.

We both freeze and stare at the coffee puddle for a moment. It’s not bad — just a splash. I smirk at him.

“As soon as you grab some paper towels!”

He tosses his tablet back into the chair and runs into the kitchen. I pick up my sewing notebook, which now has a quarter-sized coffee stain on the current page. No biggie. What little coffee has pooled on the page drips off as Connor returns with a few paper towels.

We blot up the spill. Nothing’s ruined, no one’s mad, no worries. I tell Connor I’ll take care of throwing the wet paper towels away in a minute, and he goes back to the chair to get his tablet.

“Hey, Mom,” he deadpans as he walks back to sit next to me, “wanna watch your coffee go into orbit?”