When I was making the crazy quilt choker, just before Halloween, I wanted to keep all the colors muted and Earth-tone, so I tea dyed some natural colored cotton lace. A couple days ago I found a beautiful light-weight cotton blouse on a clearance rack at Old Navy and decided that I wanted to make it match the choker.
I have terrible luck with white clothing anyway. It always ends up stained. By dying the shirt with tea, I have, for once, chosen to stain my shirt.
Here is what the shirt looked like when I first brought it home:
The dye bath was 14 cups of water, brought to a boil in a large sauce pan, to which was added 28 teabags (the cheapest black tea I could find), 2 tea bags for every 1 cup of water. I also added 1 cup of white vinegar to the boiling water to help the dye to be color-fast. Once the water was boiling, the heat was turned off and the tea was left to steep for the next 10-15 minutes.
Next, the shirt was rinsed in clear water and wrung out well, to make sure it was clean and damp, but would not dilute the tea with more water.
Then, the shirt was added to the tea/dye bath. I used a large wooded spoon to stir it around and make sure all the cloth was completely submerged in the tea.
The shirt, then spent about 45 minutes soaking in the hot tea, being stirred and poked at occasionally. At the end of the 45 minutes, the shirt was removed from the tea and rinsed several times in clear, cool water.
To further help the setting of the color, the shirt can be placed in a hot dryer or ironed dry.
The shirt is now a perfect match for the tea dyed lace on my choker.
I'm thinking about replacing the little plastic buttons on the shirt, as well, but I haven't found any I like yet.
Once Blaze had a good understanding of what made something a simple machine, we started focusing on each kind of simple machine separately. We started this past week with the lever.
We read the following books:
I really like the series of books that Levers to the Rescue comes from. The way the book is worded makes it more exciting than most of the books about simple machines that we found. To add a little audience participation, I told Blaze to shout out "Levers to the Rescue" whenever he saw it on the page.
Blaze made two kinds of levers this week. The first one, he came up with on his own after we finished reading How can I experiment with a Lever?
For this next one, Blaze demonstrated how to make a plastic spoon catapult for the little neighbor boy. All the straw that the workmen have spread on our barren backyard was getting in the way, but the project did work in the end.
We also watched this short video that explained levers:
This was also partly inspired by my purchase of a khaki colored pith helmet, that was delivered yesterday and sparked a fun session of DH and I playing dress-up and taking pictures of each other.
DH's picture turned out particularly well.
I wasn't happy with the lighting in the original color copy of this picture (taken in the apartment, but without flash), but it looks good as an antiqued picture.
I've also discovered that light colors work best with this process. Light colored clothes show details better and light colored backgrounds show off the subject better.
Everything was too dark in color in this picture and there was too much going on visually.
I was much happier with the results in this simple face shot.
We have started a new science unit, learning about simple machines. A simple machine is defined as anything used to make work easier, that has one working part or no working parts. We started the unit by reading a couple books just on the general subject of simple machines, so Blaze could have a basic understanding of what the term means.
Then we watched this episode of Bill Nye the Science Guy, which was split into 3 parts on YouTube, which explains simple machines.
Thinking about simple machines, made me think of some complicated machines that are made from a series of simple machines. I guess this can be counted as an art history lesson of sorts, I introduced Blaze to the work of cartoonist Rube Goldberg, who drew very detailed, ridiculously complex machines, that preformed very simple tasks.
I found this great little film from 1940 that not only shows cartoonist Rube Goldberg drawing some of his marvelously complex machines, but also shows how power comes from gasoline ( back in the days when gas supplies were described as being "almost limitless" ).
Classic Sesame Street Rube Goldberg Alphabet
When I explained what Rube Goldberg machines were to one of the 7th graders at school, he told me about this on-line game with Tom and Jerry. It's an animated version of the classic board game Mouse Trap.
I didn't make this garden project, one of the other people at the student gardens made it, but I thought it was pure genius and thought that other people might want to try it.
Each upside-down soda bottle has the bottom cut off and the lid removed. Each is filled with potting soil and a plant is planted in it. This way, when you water the top plant, any extra water run-off will drain into the next plant down.
It was getting down to the wire. Five O'clock on Tuesday and I still had no ideas for this week's corner view theme, "contrasts", so I took my camera with as my son and I went for a walk on the short nature trail behind the Magnolia Parke shopping and office plaza.
It turned out to be the perfect settling for finding contrasts.
To start with, it is a little pocket of nature in very urban surroundings.
This is the busy 4 lane street that runs past Magnolia Parke:
This is the path behind the building where Blaze has his physical therapy, occupational therapy, and speech (the reason we were at Magnolia Parke):
To the left of the path is swamp with trees growing out of the slimy green water.
To the right of the path is a pond with a family of ducks swimming on the clear water.
Along the path we saw both flowers and brightly colored Autumn leaves, although there were more flowers than changing leaves.
The trail ends at a large group of fairly new condos. Looking over the weathered old wooden fence next to the trail, blaze and I saw this family of deer eating the nicely manicured lawn behind one of the condos.
To read more corner view posts about contrasts, click on any of the links posted on the side bar of our host's wonderful blog, Spain Daily
Recently, I called my husband away from whatever he was doing in another room, to listen to a song I had just discovered. The song was "Shalott" by Emilie Autumn, which is a beautiful retelling of the story of "The Lady of Shalott", by Lord Alfred Tennyson. The poem had been a favorite of mine after we read it in English Literature class in High School, so a lot of my enthusiasm for the song came from knowing how closely it followed the original poem, without simply being the poem put to music. DH didn't "get it". It turns out that he had never taken English Lit. in High School, because it wasn't a required course, and he had never been exposed to the poem outside the classroom. This post is my response to that conversation.
Water Color book illustration by Walter Crane ( done between 1858-1859)
The Lady Of Shalott
by Lord Alfred Tennyson
Part I
On either side the river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the wold and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road runs by To many-tower'd Camelot; And up and down the people go, Gazing where the lilies blow Round an island there below, The island of Shalott.
Willows whiten, aspens quiver, Little breezes dusk and shiver Thro' the wave that runs for ever By the island in the river Flowing down to Camelot. Four gray walls, and four gray towers, Overlook a space of flowers, And the silent isle imbowers The Lady of Shalott.
By the margin, willow veil'd, Slide the heavy barges trail'd By slow horses; and unhail'd The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd Skimming down to Camelot: But who hath seen her wave her hand? Or at the casement seen her stand? Or is she known in all the land, The Lady of Shalott?
Only reapers, reaping early In among the bearded barley, Hear a song that echoes cheerly From the river winding clearly, Down to tower'd Camelot: And by the moon the reaper weary, Piling sheaves in uplands airy, Listening, whispers " 'Tis the fairy Lady of Shalott."
Part II
There she weaves by night and day A magic web with colours gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
And moving thro' a mirror clear That hangs before her all the year, Shadows of the world appear. There she sees the highway near Winding down to Camelot: There the river eddy whirls, And there the surly village-churls, And the red cloaks of market girls, Pass onward from Shalott.
Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, An abbot on an ambling pad, Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, Or long-hair'd page in crimson clad, Goes by to tower'd Camelot; And sometimes thro' the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two: She hath no loyal knight and true, The Lady of Shalott.
But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often thro' the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: Or when the moon was overhead, Came two young lovers lately wed: "I am half sick of shadows," said The Lady of Shalott.
Part III
A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, He rode between the barley-sheaves, The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, And flamed upon the brazen greaves Of bold Sir Lancelot. A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd To a lady in his shield, That sparkled on the yellow field, Beside remote Shalott.
The gemmy bridle glitter'd free, Like to some branch of stars we see Hung in the golden Galaxy. The bridle bells rang merrily As he rode down to Camelot: And from his blazon'd baldric slung A mighty silver bugle hung, And as he rode his armour rung, Beside remote Shalott.
All in the blue unclouded weather Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, The helmet and the helmet-feather Burn'd like one burning flame together, As he rode down to Camelot. As often thro' the purple night, Below the starry clusters bright, Some bearded meteor, trailing light, Moves over still Shalott.
His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd; On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode; From underneath his helmet flow'd His coal-black curls as on he rode, As he rode down to Camelot. From the bank and from the river He flash'd into the crystal mirror, "Tirra lirra," by the river Sang Sir Lancelot.
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces thro' the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott.
Part IV
In the stormy east-wind straining, The pale yellow woods were waning, The broad stream in his banks complaining, Heavily the low sky raining Over tower'd Camelot; Down she came and found a boat Beneath a willow left afloat, And round about the prow she wrote The Lady of Shalott.
And down the river's dim expanse Like some bold seer in a trance, Seeing all his own mischance-- With a glassy countenance Did she look to Camelot. And at the closing of the day She loosed the chain, and down she lay; The broad stream bore her far away, The Lady of Shalott.
Lying, robed in snowy white That loosely flew to left and right-- The leaves upon her falling light-- Thro' the noises of the night She floated down to Camelot: And as the boat-head wound along The willowy hills and fields among, They heard her singing her last song, The Lady of Shalott.
Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, Till her blood was frozen slowly, And her eyes were darken'd wholly, Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. For ere she reach'd upon the tide The first house by the water-side, Singing in her song she died, The Lady of Shalott.
Under tower and balcony, By garden-wall and gallery, A gleaming shape she floated by, Dead-pale between the houses high, Silent into Camelot. Out upon the wharfs they came, Knight and burgher, lord and dame, And round the prow they read her name, The Lady of Shalott.
Who is this? and what is here? And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; And they cross'd themselves for fear, All the knights at Camelot: But Lancelot mused a little space; He said, "She has a lovely face; God in his mercy lend her grace, The Lady of Shalott."
The Lady of Shalott, oil painting by John William Waterhouse, 1888
Here is an animated reading of the poem, made in 1976
I think this poem can be viewed in more than one way. It is sad that the Lady dies before she can see her dreams fulfilled, but I also think it's a story of empowerment. She has never truly lived until the moment she falls in love with Lancelot and chooses to face the curse in order to follow him. She dies singing.
