Sherry Chandler

Speaking of Pocahantas County Fare, Rebecca has been planting peonies and talking about her heirloom peonies. I was reminded of her on the weekend when I was cleaning the winter’s debris from our big peonie bed against the south wall of the house. I don’t know whether they’re heirlooms — they’ve been there for the 35 years I’ve known the house and the bed is huge.

Here is the state of our peonies in Bourbon County (Pocahantas is such a nice county name); the greenery is from “magic lilies,” which I also didn’t plant:

Rebecca also reported that she found trout lilies blooming on Saturday. She’s a little ahead of us, probably a good bit to the south and maybe not as exposed to weather there in the mountains as we are here on the open plateau. She posted a couple of really nice photos that I suggest you click through to see.

Our trout lilies have made a sudden appearance with the 70 degree days we’ve been having. Here’s what they look like here with a couple of twinleaf buds:

And also in the big patch with a struggling little patch of Dutchmen’s britches:

But while I can’t compete with flowers, perhaps I can with fauna. Though so far we haven’t had any wildlife in the kitchen, unless you count our superannuated cats, I’d say we’ve been providing the good life for a possum as well as a raccoon this winter. This one showed up this morning to nibble seed under our bird feeder. He didn’t seem too nervous about it, either.

No skunks yet.

All these photos were taken in early morning or evening light, so they’re a little dim. The possum photo was taken through the window so it’s also a little screen-blurred.

The greenery there in front of the possum are the Virginia bluebells coming up.

In a recent post about yewberries, Geof Huth says:

Everything is poetry, everything is fruit, everything is poison.

For some reason, I was reminded of that statement when I read the Pocahantas County Fare post on knots, which in its turn links to this long Washington Post article on the same subject.

The Post article in its turn links to The Knotplot Site, where you can download a software package that will allow you to create graphic knots right on your own computer. Or, if you click to here, you can see Knot 2234 from The Ashley Book of Knots in 3-D image.

You will also find a PDF file there with instructions for crocheting a Lorenz attractor. The creator wanted to crochet something useful. But my life is chaotic enough. I think I’ll stick to afghans.

Rebecca is interested in knots, of course, because she knits. The image above is American needle lace, also a form of needlework knotting.

I know a square knot from a granny and can tie myself up in simple yogic knots. I knit a little, crochet more easily, and once upon a time I taught myself tatting from a book. I wanted to do it because I was given a handkerchief for which my great-aunt Ruth had tatted the lace border. “Tatting,” thought I, “I never heard of tatting. How exotic to learn it.” And so I set off in search of instruction.

Alas, it was not a success because, while I could teach myself the way to run the shuttle under and over to form the lace — it’s like making a buttonhole stitch around a thread — I could never figure out how to keep my thread from snarling up like a mistreated telephone cord.

Perhaps snarled thread is the “poison” of lacemaking.

My son, who loves all things Celtic, from Enya to Granuaille, loves Celtic knots.

And my husband, the wood carver, loves Welsh spoons.

Knots, of course, are associated with calligraphy and gnarled graphics were used to illuminate manuscripts such as the Book of Kells. Perhaps that’s why all this reminds me of words. Or specifically of words as Vispo. Take a look at Geof Huth’s the drunken E. Or f.r.o.g.p.o.n.d.

But I’ll tell you, this is a knotty business. No end to the associations of knots. My head is spinning through loops and braids and bends. I feel as drunk as an E. I think I’ll make this sentence the bitter end.