Tag Archives: carding vermont

A Good Hunkering Day

Icicles for web
You’ve heard about the lull before the storm?

Well, around here, we usually get at lull after a winter storm. As in the sky clears and the temperature goes up (which means high 20s), and everyone’s mood elevates with the additional light.

Today, we got one out of two of those. The snow stopped about mid-morning but honey, I want to tell you it it absolutely frigid here at Carding, Vermont’s world headquarters.

Heard from family down on Cape Cod where the wind is whipping up the high tide, and everyone is thankful that the lights and heat are still on.

So you hunker down, don’t go out unless it’s totally necessary, and stay close to the wood stove.

But this too shall pass.

Squeak, Squeak, Squeak

Snowshoes for web
It is wicked cold today.

Wicked as in so cold your nose can freeze shut if you stay outside too long.

And too long is about ten minutes.

It started snowing before the sun rose, and in this wicked cold that means fine crystals that swirl about in the air every time a vehicle passes the house.

Snow connoisseurs can tell you a lot about the quality of any measurable amount of falling flakes by their sound. When it’s wicked cold, the snow squeaks underfoot as you pad along because the air is so dry.

If it’s sunny and a bit warmer, it grunts as you step along.

And there’s the sloshing sound of slush when it all starts to melt.

Today’s a squeaky day.

The Disappearance of Color

Red Cardinal at the Bird Feeder in January by Sonja Hakala
Red Cardinal at the Bird Feeder in January by Sonja Hakala

Several members of the Northern Lights Quilt Guild—the most talented group of women you will ever meet—put together a smallish quilt show at the Aging Resource Center at Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center. It’s been on display since early October.

We covered the walls of the ample lobby, decorated a largish space over a computer bank and put color on the walls of a hallway with a large quilt at the end of it like the dot under an exclamation point.

This morning, we took it all down.
And it was a if you’d washed away the surface of a watercolor painting. The place suddenly seemed so drab.

The director of the center told us that the quilt show attracted more attention than any other exhibit they’d had there and how many comments (all positive) they received.

It’s sort of like how dark it feels in early January when all the Christmas lights disappear.

Which just means you gotta enjoy the beauty when it comes your way.

It’s Gotta Start Somewhere…

Goldie covered with snow for web
Winter, that is.

And by the looks of things outside, it’s starting today.

So far, the flakes are light and we haven’t seen a snowplow yet.

But the Eye on the Sky guys up in the Fairbanks Museum in St. Johnsbury (the best local weather reports in the area) are forecasting 4 to 5 inches by the time this crystallized precipitation moves on.

This stuff’s gonna stick! And Goldie will be happy because snowball chasing season is about to begin!

The Golden Glow Days

Golden glow and purple morning glories on the fence in front of the Carding Academy of Traditional Arts
Golden glow and purple morning glories on the fence in front of the Carding Academy of Traditional Arts

by Edie Wolfe

I sometimes wonder at the compulsive human fascination with time. We strap clocks to our wrists. We adorn our walls with calendars. The computer-driven universe couldn’t run without the inaudible tick, tick, tick of its internal clocks.

And would someone please explain to me why Google thinks it important to announce how many nano-seconds it took to find a million pages on how to cook zucchini. Come to think of it, why are there a million pages about cooking zucchini?

No matter.

We could throw away all those clocks this minute and still understand that we’re nearing the receding edge of summer. The sun’s hitting the tops of the trees up on the hills before six. It takes longer for the morning mist to dissipate. And the tall, gangly form of the yellow golden glow is co-habitating with those purple morning glories that be such a pest when they get into a garden.

But aren’t they beautiful together?

In any event, the botanical calendar in the Carding Academy’s front garden tells me that our new fall schedule of classes will begin soon. We’ve added one new mosaic class with Carrie Fradkin and Chloe Cooper has added a quilt design class. If you’re interested, sign up quick. These teachers always fill up fast.

Edie Wolfe is the executive director of the Carding Academy of Traditional Arts.

Edie Wolfe | August 30 | Local Arts

Something to Crow About

I am writing feverishly to finish my new novel, The Road Unsalted, by my birthday, which is two-and-a-half weeks away. That will truly be a celebration for me.

T.R.U. takes place in Carding, Vermont, a village located in the Corvus Valley. Corvus is the species name for the bird family that includes crows, ravens, blue jays and magpies.

My choice of Corvus is rather serendipitous, or at least it seemed so at the time. My husband has a longtime fascination with these intriguing birds, and happened to talk about them at the same time I was searching for a place for Carding on my internal map of Vermont.

As usually happens when you foster an awareness of a creature or a trend or an event, you begin to notice its presence more and more. Now I sit up a bit more in my car when I see crows. I pay close attention when I hear a “Caw” off in the distance.  I’m currently reading my second book on crows. And because I have a lifelong passion for folklore, I’ve started looking for traditional crow stories.

So far, there’s not much to pick from or be inspired by, for that matter. Which means, of course, I have the opportunity to create my own because with so many crows—one of the species, like gray squirrels and pigeons, that succeed because of human intervention—there is an abundance of untold stories.

Stay tuned for Crow Stories. And while I think of it on this first day of May, I wish all the blessings of Beltane to you for the coming season.