Category Archives: holiday

St Kitts, Thomas Jefferson, Batik

That’s an odd assortment of names in the title, yet that is the diversity of what we have seen on this island!

The weather has us pinned down off the southeast coast of St. Kitts. There are no harbors here for protection, which is the case for many of the West Indies islands in the Caribbean, and boy do I miss the protected harbors on Antigua. After sailing from Antigua last Saturday, we attempted to anchor off Nevis, but the best anchorage area was too rough! It was only 2pm in the afternoon, so we sailed about seven miles further to White House Bay on St. Kitts, and then had to move again for more protection. We were finally settled, although not comfortably, just before sunset. The winds have been quite strong, which is typical for this time of year. They are called the Christmas winds and usually last until the end of January.

The capital of St. Kitts is Basse Terre, and in the center of the city is a roundabout with a clock in the center called Piccadilly Square.

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Cruise ships arrive almost daily in Basse Terre, and we can see them come and go from our anchorage, a few miles to the east. There is a hospital ship in the same area that has to leave every time a new cruise ship arrives. We learned that this ship is a medical school and that since the destruction of the medical school on Dominica this ship has taken on the faculty and students from that university. We watch it come and go every day to make room for the large cruise ships. I wonder what the faculty and students think of that. I’m trying to wrap my head around the students practicing surgical procedures on a vessel that has to be rolling around even slightly, in spite of having stabilizers.  I contemplate over each evening as we watch the sunset from Pandora.

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Yesterday we hired a tour guide to drive us around the island. Normally Bob and I detest this kind of touring, but this island has many windy roads and switchbacks that lead through the mountainous terrain, and driving is on the left. It was a smart decision not to tackle it ourselves!

Alexander Hamilton was born on nearby Nevis, and Thomas Jefferson’s great-great grandfather had a large plantation here on St. Kitts. The plantation has become a historic site here, no surprise, as well as the site of a botanical gardens and a local business of women who make batik fabrics. I’m quite fascinated to learn—so late in life!—that some of our founding fathers had such exotic origins! Years ago I visited the home of George Washington’s family, Sulgrave Manor, that seemed to be ‘right down the street’ from Princess Diana’s ancestral home Althorp. Both these family manses are in Northamptonshire, in the UK, so not so exotic. Still, I was well into adulthood before I ever gave a thought to exactly where our founding fathers originated. I just vaguely thought of them all as English. History is far more interesting in the details, isn’t it?

Romney Manor was first the site of gardens for a man named Tegereman who was chief of the indigenous tribe of Caribs. By 1625 this site had become a beautiful Euorpean style home for Sam Jefferson, Thomas Jefferson’s forebear.

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The gardens are good mix of natural landscape and cultivated gardens.

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It would hard to ever leave a spot like this…..more lemonade, please!

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Along with the gardens, which are well cultivated and include beautifully landscaped areas of quite a variety of tropical plants, a group of women also run a textile business on the property of the plantation. The women make wonderful batik fabrics and their business, which started in 1976, is called Caribelle Batik. After 40 years, they must be on their 2nd or even 3rd generation of women keeping this technique alive and well. I’d say I was watching the 2nd generation of master batik makers demonstrating for the tourists, since all of them were about my age.

The shop was full of about anything you can dream up to make with batik fabric.  There were wall hangings, clothing, all kinds of little containers, pillow covers.  I bought a nice selection of things to bring home for friends and family.

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The designs are drawn with a stylus filled with melted beeswax.

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They do intricate designs, and the best thrill of all was walking through the gardens, surrounded by exotic plants, views of the ocean, and lines and lines of batik fabrics drying in the breeze. I think this will be the highlight of my winter!

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In addition to a rainforest full of exotic native and not so native plants that have found there way here, St. Kitts also has a large colony of green monkeys. They are everywhere! Our guide told us that they were brought to the island by the French, who brought them on their ships from Africa, along with their human cargo destined to be slaves. Some islanders have taken young monkeys for pets. I got accosted by a heckler, who came up from behind and just put this monkey into my arms. I didn’t mind, but I would have preferred to be asked. I guess he knows well that if he asks, most people will say no. It’s better to just throw a monkey into your arms and grab your phone before you have a chance to think. It’s the way of life in this part of the world, so it’s best just to go with it. Cute monkey, isn’t it?….wearing a diaper, thank heaven!

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We had stopped for this view when the ‘monkey man’ approached me.

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How about a monkey in its natural setting.  They are pretty shy so we haven’t gotten close to the wild ones.

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In the middle of our day our tour guide took us to a local restaurant–just a couple of picnic tables under an awning, with a ‘kitchen’ in an attached shed.  No refrigeration.  Our guide said all the food was prepared daily so no need to refrigerate anything.  Well, hmmm.  The choices were pretty varied, so it’s hard for me to imagine that they used everything up everyday.

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Yeah, I know!  It looks pretty rough, and I’ll admit that I was nervous about the food.  It was all delicious–barbecued pork ribs, rice and pigeon peas, green salad, and Caribbean mac n cheese.  Others had baked chicken, or baked mackerel with same side dishes.  No one got sick.

I am staying onboard today. The wind has abated, although our weather guru says it’s best not to change locations until the weather is more settled at the beginning of next week. Sheesh! It’s only Wednesday! I plan to spend some time working on a small tapestry that is getting embarrassingly old, and then I will spend some time on my little Norwegian woven band. Later we will meet our cruising friends for sundowners at the beach bar, SaltPlage, where the view of the sunset will extraordinary!  Well, as you can, we already had our sundowners…I could not get this post online yesterday.

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So, that’s my report. St. Kitts is an interesting and unusual mix of history, lush flora and fauna, and beautiful local textile work.  All good for me.

Nostalgic Holiday

By the end of this brief month we’ve been home we will have visited our older son and his family, which includes our delightful granddaughter Tori, three times.  That is a LOT of driving, and it always includes a trek through New York City… and that brings back memories from the decades we lived in New Jersey.

On our last trip home, after Tori’s 1st birthday party, we drove into the city for an appointment that should have taken place over the summer.  It was a sparkling mid-December day, where the snow that had blanketed most of the northeast had already melted on the city streets.  It was the morning the suicide bomber had set off his pipe bomb in the subway near Times Square.  Hearing this news, we decided to avoid the West Side, so we took the Holland Tunnel.  What a view with the sun directly behind Freedom Tower!

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We drove down to Battery Park to get on the East Side FDR.

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What memories!  Foremost in my mind was a very different day–a late summer day in September, five years ago, when our son Christopher met us at Battery Park.  We were onboard our last Pandora, and Chris was on his bike!  We said our goodbyes across the water, and I was crying.  It was our farewell moment at the beginning of a 9-month trip down the east coast of the US and across to the Bahamas, where we spent  4 months sailing about 1,000 miles among the islands from the Abacos, the Berries and the Exumas, before retracing our tracks back up the eastern seaboard.  I’d never been away from home that long before–actually haven’t been away that long since either.

Chris first met us near Gracie Mansion, where Hells Gate flows into the East River.  He took this wonderful panorama of us. We were alone on the river that morning.

Then we raced him down to Battery Park, Pandora against Chris on a bicycle.  We won, by only 10 minutes, and he had to navigate far more traffic than we did that morning!

While we lived in New Jersey, I almost never had an occasion to drive on the East Side, so driving up the FDR brought this single memory back in full force.  I can still feel the breeze and smell the river and the city from that September day. What a difference a few years make.  Chris was at the beginning of his doctoral studies; Bob and I were neophytes at long distance sailing.  Now Chris has been working in quantum physics for a couple years, and Bob has put 10,000 miles under the keels of two Pandoras since then.

This December day, we parked our car near the East River and walked west into the throngs of midtown… past Lex and Park and Madison, and on to 5th Ave.  It was fitting to me that Saks has chosen Snow White as the theme for this year’s windows.  Our little Tori seems like Snow White to us with her ivory skin and dark hair.  I wish she could have been with us to see this!

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As it happens, Tori’s Mom loves Mini Mouse, and now so does Tori.  I made Tori a Mini Mouse dress to wear for her birthday, and her parents decided to have photos taken to commemorate this milestone.  We don’t have any of the final photos yet, but here are a couple of proofs. I love the middle one (kind of wish I’d made her a Snow White dress, though!).

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During our visit for Tori’s 1st birthday party, the first snow of the season fell on the day of her party!  Grampy gave her the first taste of snow.

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The rest of us made party preparations.  Kandice had seen this Mini Mouse fruit bowl on Pinterest, and Rob and I enjoyed creating it!

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Rob and Bob finished decorating the huge tree.  We always say that Rob likes to “Clark Griswold the heck out of Christmas”–and he does.

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But….back to our drive through New York….our appointment was only half a block from THE TREE so we had to take a moment for that.  Due to the earlier incident with the bomber, the streets were heavily patrolled by policemen in groups, all carrying automatic weapons.  I haven’t seen that kind of police presence since the 70s in Rome, but I will refrain from saying more.

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The promenade and the shops along it were still as festive as ever.  My favorite shop is Penahaligons!

Earlier this week Bob gave a slide presentation locally about our travels through the Windward Islands during the past winter season.  As usual, he was entertaining and humorous and his slides were stunning.

One of the highlights of the evening for me was that a woman approached me to tell me that she’d missed hearing me add to the presentation with whatever handwork I’d discovered on our travels.  I had no idea that any of the sailors in the audience would want to hear about textiles and handwork!

And on that note, it seems I’ve gotten quite far off track on writing about textiles lately.  Perhaps my final thoughts will center on that.  A couple of my gifts this year focused on Idrija lace from Slovenia, which I quite love.  I ordered these little lace hearts from Slovenia.  I should have ordered many more!

My favorite purchase this year came from the Hartford Artisans’ holiday sale back in late November. It is a short piece of Deflected Double Weave sewn into a cowl.  What a terrific idea to weave cowls in this structure! For one thing, when sewn together with a flat fell seam they are reversible!  Another bonus is that from a warp that would normally be used to make only two scarves, I can probably get six cowls!  Oh!  And a 3rd bonus–no fringes to twist.  I’ve already made my warp, in a much different colorway than this cowl which I bought at the sale.  I’ll be ready to dress my small Baby Wolf to weave some gifts when I return next spring.

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Today marks the halfway point of Hanukah, and it is only 10 days until Christmas.  We’ve had three snowfalls already and some record breaking cold temperatures.  As I write this today I am steeping a large quantity of gin in a mixture of dried hisbiscus flowers, cardamon and peppercorns.  It is my ‘plan B’ from years of searching for damson plums with no luck. I hope hibiscus gin will make a delicious gin and tonic this evening to warm me as I make a batch of cookie and get started on tomorrow’s beef wellington.  I hope you are doing similar things to make your holiday festive and to keep warm.  Best wishes….

 

 

 

 

 

The Royal Visit

Right up front I’ll tell you we missed seeing Prince Charles.  Right now it feels like old news, but believe me I still smart a little from this! The Prince arrived hours earlier than predicted, and I was still onboard Pandora, carefully choosing what to wear for a royal visit.  He was gone by the time we got ashore (although we did not know that until hours later!–until others told us all about it).  Some of our friends only saw the royal motorcade while they were out on their morning walk.  Our friends on Exodus were on the dock in English Harbour, due to the many gear failures that occurred during their passage that needed professional attention.  They were having their morning coffee in the cockpit when Prince Charles strolled up to have a chat!  It was then that they all wished they’d taken more care with their morning attire!

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One of our Salty Dawgs, Ardys Richards, took this fabulous photo!

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As you can see, not many were on hand when the Prince arrived.

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It has taken me awhile to catch up on the all the happenings since we left Antigua.  Thanksgiving seemed to come right after Prince Charles left, and I cannot account for the three days in the middle. I think we were having more of Bob’s planned events–it was a whirlwind!  What an experience to have a traditional Thanksgiving dinner in such a tropical setting, with a significant number of non-Americans sharing the experience with us.  Dinner was served just after sunset, on the deck above the Antigua Yacht Club, where we enjoyed a balmy breeze and beautiful views of the harbor.  The cooks made 10 turkeys for the 100+ diners, and we all tucked into plates full of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and various roasted veggies….not island fare at all!  (photo also by Ardys, I think!)

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We left on Friday to head back to the States, in particular to our older son’s house to participate in our granddaughter’s christening.  That was quite an adventure–although too boring to write. We didn’t arrive until just before dawn on Saturday morning.  Our younger son arrived on Friday from San Francisco, and we all enjoyed a belated non-traditional Thanksgiving dinner together on Saturday night.  Rob and I have always wanted to make a Beef Wellington together, and at last we did!  It was a special evening to have our whole Osborn family together, that now includes a daughter in law and a granddaughter, along with one of Rob’s oldest friends and his new wife.  I was overflowing with thankfulness!

And then Sunday brought the christening! Of course I think Little Tori would be beautiful in a burlap sack, but I was thrilled to see her wearing the dress I’d spent most of the summer and fall making for her.

Tori’s mom chose the fabric–silk shantung, and it had that mesmerizing rustle of silk as Tori walked around in it.  The sleeves are silk organdy (mostly because they were a bit complicated for me and I could not face the idea of trying to make them in the shantung when it came to inserting them into the tiny armhole!).  As it worked out, I love the sheerness of the organdy that shows off Tori’s tiny, delicate shoulders!  I barely know what I’m doing to make a dress like this–French seams, a lining, petal sleeves,  bound seams on the armholes,  buttonholes.  The credit for this dress really goes to my sewing teacher Marie, who directed every move I made in the construction, and then sewed a few things herself when I could not, such as inserting the 4-piece petal sleeves into the dress and making those buttonholes!

Tori is looking a little shop worn after the long ride to the church and back along with the christening ceremony!  She was happy to get back to bare feet!

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I had to make the dress in spite of my sewing INexpertise because I wanted to use the lace I’d been making for the 5 month months leading up to the big day.  I spent somewhere in the neighborhood of 100 hours making the two yards of lace border for the bodice and hem of the dress.  There is a smaller lace at the neckline that I had saved from an earlier project (members of Metro IOLI will recognize it as Gunvor Jorgenson’s workbook, lace #3).   Making this dress meant the world to me!  I was thrilled to see my little princess in it and I was glad that she wore it all day!

Christopher documented the whole day in photos for us….just about the best gift we could imagine!  He took 600 photos!  I’ll just share a few….though it will be more than I usually post…. what can I say?  I am smitten with Tori and with Chris’ photos of her!

Here she is with her dad, walking along the altar at the church.

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Meeting the priest.

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Getting baptised.

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Aftereward, posing with Mom and Dad in front of the Christmas tree on the altar.

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The party at home afterward included good friends and both families for a late lunch and play time with Tori.  I don’t think she took a nap that day…. she held up well, like a royal would do!

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Our little Tori is as royal to us as Prince Charles.  She is certainly the little sovereign in our family, and we all do our best to serve her needs!   She our tiny super moon (still), and we are all caught up in her orbit. In fact, December’s full moon is occurring now, the same full moon (actually a ‘super moon’ like the one that occurred last year when  she was born!) In lunar cycles, she has turned one on this full moon!  Her calendar birthday will be in 10 days, after this moon cycle has finished. It’s a wonderful place to be–in her orbit….I’m enjoying every moment of it!

 

A Day at the Cricket Match

Well, who knew I’d ever be talking about cricket–me, the obsessive weaver/knitter and somewhat reluctant sailor will now spend a few words on cricket.  We were given tickets to the West Indian/English cricket match here on Antigua.  Antigua has spent a fortune on a modern stadium for this sport so the locals must love this game.  They have chosen having a stadium over having better water or sewage systems on the island, and certain over having good roads.  Who am I to say what’s more important?

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Lucky for us that two very nice Englishmen were seated in front of us, who were willing to explain the game and give us some background on cricket.  It’s a long game.  We arrived over an hour after the start and still saw most of the first half, in which the West Indian team was batting.  By the end of that half they had scored 258 points.

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I know these photos don’t do justice to the action.  All I can say is that I’ve never seen anyone run as fast all these men do!  It was more exciting than watching the Olympics just to see them run and catch balls.  They can catch anything!

I wish I had a photo of our English cricket tutors.  They were both dressed so perfectly shabby/chic in their rumpled linen shirts and khaki shorts, finished off with panama hats and shabby boat shoes.  Their diction was also perfectly Queen’s English.  I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to learn they are both barristers, or maybe even earls.  Enchanting gentlemen…

The spectators were very well dressed.  This has to be quite a big social event for the locals.  And during the breaks you could buy all kinds of food–or get your face painted!

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We left about 4 pm, even though there was more than an hour left in the game.  Because the game is played in two halves, with only one team able to score during its own half, we have no way to know who won.  Maybe we can find out from a local when we get ashore later. You do really do have to stay for the whole 8 hours!

Life aboard continues as ever.  More of our acquaintances have arrived in the harbor so we’ve had several nice get togethers. As you can see our numbers are growing.  It’s hard to all congregate on one boat so we’ve moved on to larger venues on shore.

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Each day brings it own chores, just like home anywhere.  The last week was focused on fixing broken things aboard Pandora, and Bob has made some great headway on those things.  We are still waiting for some kind of power supply for the SSB, and then that repair will be finished.  Our friends on Kalunamoo came into Falmouth yesterday with a broken windlass.  You may remember what that is from a couple weeks back when ours died as well.  It’s the thing that pulls up the anchor since a hundred or more feet of chain is way too much for a mere human to handle.  It’s important.  When it breaks it’s time to get on that project right away.

This morning we have been busy making water and doing two loads of laundry.  I hope to get out my small tapestry by noon.  Tori’s little sailor sweater is finished and almost ready for giving when I see her at Easter.  I hope her parents will like it enough to have her wear it through the spring and on cool summer nights.

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I almost took a photograph of all our laundry hanging out to dry, but then thought better of it!  Here’s a photo of what Bob has to do to get anything out of our freezer for dinner.  “You want the WHAT??? Honey, that’s at the very bottom!”

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Our younger son Chris arrives next Wednesday to spend almost a week with us in English Harbor on Antigua.  March and April are big months in the Osborn family.  Both Rob and Kandice have birthdays in March–Rob’s is this Wednesday!  Where does the time go??  In between Rob’s and Kandice’s birthdays, little Tori will turn three months old!  I haven’t seen her in a month now and she is changing rapidly, as babies do.  Luckily Rob and Kandice send us new photos of her almost every day.

Here she is looking very glam in her shades!

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And this was taken yesterday.  For almost a month now she has been standing up while holding on to Mom or Dad.  It appears she may be as precocious as her daddy was at that age.  I’m enjoying remembering Rob’s babyhood through Tori, but I know that Tori’s mom and dad are in for wild ride ahead! She started doing this just after turning 2 months old.

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Chris’s birthday with be next month, just before Easter.  So much to celebrate, and we are too far away to do it properly!

Time to finish sewing that last seam in Tori’s sailor sweater and then get out my loom…. maybe Bob will find out who won the cricket match while he is ashore using the internet to order some more things for Pandora.

As Summer Wanes

It’s Labor Day, the first truly chilly morning of the season, and I LOVE it!  There will be a few more days of summer heat before we hit the equinox, but summer is winding down.  I can feel it in the air and see it in the trees.  In spite of hurricane Hermine heading northward, I feel autumn coming.

The month of August has hurtled by me.  I had lots and lots of doctor appointments, and in between them, I tried to very hard to enjoy one workshop on ec0-dyeing and as many days of weaving and lace making as I could manage.  Looking back, I feel fairly productive!

If you haven’t tried Eco-dyeing, give it a whirl!  There is nothing like unwrapping a scarf or fabric to find some lovely imprints of leaves and flowers.  If your first attempt doesn’t suit your taste just put the fabric/scarf away and try it again on another day.  That’s what I’m doing this morning as I write this.  I have a 1-yard length of lightweight linen and one silk scarf steaming.  I used the rinse and spin cycle of my washing machine to re-wet them, and I just collected a few leaves on my morning walk:  one small branch of Japanese maple with about a dozen leaves on it, some golden rod fronds with buds ready to open rather than in bloom, and a few fronds of sumac.

When I got home I spread out my damp linen fabric and silk scarf and placed my plant materials on half of each length of fabric or scarf, because I will fold the other half over to cover the plant material.  To the things I gathered on my walk I added a few gems from my garden.  Today I am trying tall ferns that I hope are ostrich ferns, since I read that those work well in eco-deying.  I have a few dark purple oxalis leaves, some purple cranesbill flowers as well as leaves, some coleus leaves, and one small spray of red flowers from a dragon wing begonia.  As I write this I realized I meant to to pick some hyacinth bean leaves and flowers.  The leaves of the purple hyacinth vine have such dark veining, it might work very well in this technique. Drat!  My fabric is already in the steamer.

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Here are a couple of sites that I found very helpful in trying this technique.  Sherry Harr did her doctoral thesis at Kansas State University on various textile dyeing techniques, and her article is quite thorough.  There are several blogs where the authors have documented their plants and techniques rather well.  Take a look at Threadborne and Obovate Designs.

In mid-August a few people from my local area guild got together and shared lots of plant material and had a go on our various fabrics and scarves.  None of us had ever done this before, but we shared the internet info we found, and a couple of us had talked to others who had taken a workshop with Amelia Poole, whose work in this technique is stunning.

With a bit of info and a LOT of enthusiasm, we plunged ahead.  We were quite lucky to have the use of Kate’s wonderful weaving/dyeing studio for this project.  Here you can see how we layered the tubes of fabric with sticks to keep them from touching.  To make the steamer there are some rocks and sticks at the bottom of the pan to keep the tubes of fabrics above the water level.

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The taller tubes of fabric went in this make-shift steamer.

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After 30 minutes of steaming and a little time cooling down, our tubes came out of the pot.

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Unwrapping and hanging our scarves and fabric to dry on a rack. We were pretty thrilled with our results.

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My first scarf turned out better than the other things I tried that day.

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Look at the imprint from this giant dahlia.

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I hope to compile a list of the plants and flowers that work best for me.  Some things leave behind wonderful colors, but the imprint is just a blob.  I’m more interested in the things that leave an actual impression of the leaf or flower.  So far, this is my list of A plants and flowers:

Japanese maple leaves–great leaf definition
coleus leaves–faint leaf definition and pastel colors, lovely on silk
golden rod–great definition for leaves and flowers
purple oxalis–great definition
black hollyhock flowers–a wonderful, deep purple ‘blob’
cranesbill, purple–nicely shaped ‘blob’ somewhat recognizable as a flower silhouette

One of the perks of visiting the studios and houses of other weavers, is seeing the lovely details in their living and work spaces.  Weavers usually have such a eye for beauty.

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It was a glorious day for our project.

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Fast forward to the beginning of September, and on this stunning weekend I spent a wonderful day at the monthly meeting of bobbin lace makers in Connecticut.  You can find us here.

We met outside in a member’s garden under a canopy of billowing, striped canvas.  Her terrace was surrounded by flowers–black-eyed Susans, phlox, and other late season bloomers, with a view of her large vegetable garden nearby, and in the distance her bee hives.  She made an English cream tea for us that we had to share with the bees. Her tables were covered with vintage white on white embroidered cloths, topped with vintage linen tea towels that commemorated Queen Elizabeth’s reign–going back as far as her silver jubilee.  I think we all felt a bit regal.

I hope Mary won’t mind that I shared this photo.  Her expression is a mirror of how much we were all looking forward to having these treats!

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Our hostess made Earl Grey tea biscuits dipped in chocolate that were off the charts!

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On top of this wonderful tea we all actually spent time making lace, too!

This is also the weekend of the Haddam Neck Fair.  Late summer is the time for all kinds of festivals that celebrate farming and animal husbandry.  I have never been to this particular fair before, and it was a wonder.

First there were the animals.  We watched a draft horse pulling contest, visited the goats and sheep, cows, chickens and rabbits.  The textile displays were very small, but I met a woman on the fair committee, doing a spinning demonstration, and she hopes to grow the textile area of the fair in coming years.

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Look at this beautiful Dorset sheep.  Her new fleece growing back was as thick as felt and she loved attention.

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Multi-colored Jacobs.

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Seeing all the awards for best sheep or cow, all the way down to best cakes, and cupcakes, best flower arrangements, and best single flowers, or best zucchini, made Bob exclaim, “No one can possibly doubt humans’ need to compete!”  Along a row of bud vases that showcased individual marigolds, the judges had written such poetic comments as: “As beautiful as a sexy, 1940s film star!”  And, one a rose that no longer had a single petal left, “A stunner!  Well done!”

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I particularly like this arrangement of succulents in a well used frame. Clearly the judges did too.

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Some whimsical flower arrangements.  There were lots of categories for flower arrangements, and these were two in the category inspired by food.  A tray of floral cupcakes!

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And a slice of mum cake!IMG_2593 The same kind of judges’ comments showed up on all the individual vegetables, from tomatoes to summer squash, to cucumbers.  If you can grow it or make it, you can compete with others at some local fair!

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It was a beautiful day, and it was quite lovely to see how much care and attention can go into growing a zucchini or a marigold!

Sadly, the textile area could not hold a candle to the livestock or the flowers and veggies.  Maybe that will change in the future.  All it will take are a few textile people who want to compete!

The day is getting away from me, and I should turn my attention to Archie’s book and to that never-ending boundweave project.

I’ll end with a recap of what I learned today.  The tall ferns in my garden must not be ostrich ferns since they left no color.  I did add some hyacinth bean vine, both leaves a clusters of flowers buds, but they also left no color or imprint.

Clusters of purple verbena flowers are interesting–they turn turquoise!

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And signet marigolds left an interesting imprint.  The red stripes turned black.

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And speaking of flowers, I have to share one last image.  The well known, oft-photographed field of sunflowers on the north fork of Long Island.  Bob and I sailed to Sag Harbor and stayed for almost a week back in the middle of the month.  Even when compared to an amazing dinner at the American Hotel, and wine tastings along the North Fork, seeing this field was the highlight of that trip!

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Now to work!

 

 

 

 

 

Basket Man

Yesterday may have been our last day to visit Old Havana, and I’m so glad I didn’t know it then because I would have felt a need to rush about more. Luckily we had a relaxing day and enjoyed some kind of holiday celebration that was happening.

We are trying to figure out the best ‘weather window’ for leaving Cuba. We knew we’d get the window some time this week, and now it looks like tomorrow is the day. So, here is our loose game plan. The winds are opposing the gulf stream a good deal of the time right now, but for the next couple of days those winds are pretty mild from pre-dawn until midday. So we will leave early in the morning, and sail in the gulf stream until the afternoon, when hopefully we will be near Key Largo. At that point we’ll head toward shore, out of the stream, and sail near the Florida coast until early the next morning when the winds die down again. We’ll head back into the Gulf Stream to Ft. Lauderdale, where we hope to clear in. By doing this we get a boost of speed from the northbound currents in the Gulf Stream while the opposing winds are mild, and when those opposing winds are stronger during the afternoon and evenings, we’ll slip out of the stream into the calmer waters outside the stream. I’m sure I’ll be sick, but hopefully less so than during some of our passages this winter.

The US Coast Guard sent us an email the other day (right after Bob had just composed a message to them) to ask if we were still on schedule for returning to the US by May 1. Bob responded, and we are hoping to hear back on whether we can clear in to Ft. Lauderdale. I have my fingers crossed about this because it will be more convenient for us to arrive in Ft. Lauderdale than in Miami. My flight home is Tuesday morning, out of Ft. Lauderdale.

Bob has just heard that the no-anchoring bill in Florida will indeed go into effect on May 1, so our plans for arriving in Ft. Lauderdale have to be adjusted. We will go to Miami instead, not a first choice for either of us. I guess we will rent a car to get to my Ft. Lauderdale flight. That’s boat life for you….you can make all the plans you want, even at the last minute, when you think you’ve got everything in hand, but the powers that be just laugh and laugh.

Yesterday we went back into Old Havana to look for the headquarters of the Women’s Federation for Handwork. Over the weekend we found the retail shop where the garments are sold, but the workshop where women take courses and make things for the shop is closed on the weekends. Yesterday we had a bit of a run around trying to find the workshop. When we did find it, we learned that all the ‘professores’ were gone since classes only take place in the mornings, while we arrived in the early afternoon. Maybe it’s just my imagination, and a leftover feeling from my visit to the workshop in Santiago, but I got the distinct impression that there would be complications trying to get anyone to see me. Yesterday I got to speak to a custodian and a language teacher, but when I asked for a ‘manager’ they both responded that ‘this was not possible.’ After meeting the open and generous women on the Paseo del Prada, and sharing such an excitement for handwork in spite of our communication barriers, I just couldn’t muster enough energy at this point to care if I met the administrators of this federation. I don’t think their goals are quite the same as mine. Admittedly I do not have the ‘whole picture,’ but from my limited perspective I believe their goal is to promote traditional clothing and make a successful business training women to keep these techniques alive and make the garments ‘saleable.’ It is a business venture that needs to succeed, and I hope it does succeed because that just makes handwork more valuable to everyone. But my mission is to meet women who love handwork and want to share what they do. I found that in spades with the group of women who surround Adriana Martinez.

It was some kind of holiday yesterday, but I never understood what! Several people wished us a ‘happy holiday,’ and museums were open in Old Havana that had been closed during our previous visits. While we were in the ceramic museum, I asked our guide what holiday was being celebrated, and she replied that it was the national holiday for ceramics. Bob and I are not at all sure we understood this properly. All kinds of museums were open that have been closed during our previous visits…maybe the holiday was really about Cuban heritage. Anyway, our guide still maintained that it was a ceramics holiday.

The ceramic museum was in the home of an historic ceramic artist who had a workshop and shop on the ground floor and living quarters for his family on the upper floor. The building was from the late 19th century with a central courtyard, and it made a wonderful museum for a history of Cuban ceramic artists. Each room featured a different time period of artists’ works. The courtyard was devoted to vessels and large figures.

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Our guide understood enough English for me to tell her that one of my good friends is a ceramics artist who does large figures in terracotta. I took these photos for her.

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Somehow in our conversation it came about that our guide loves to knit. She took us to the entrance of the employees lounge and asked us to be very quiet since her boss was in there. She went in and came back moments later with a little bag of her knitting. It was the same ecru cotton floss type thread that the women on Paseo del Prada were using to crochet and make lace. I wonder where they get this material. Our guide told us she’d like to knit all day long, but can only find a few minutes here and there during her breaks at work. She said she never gets any time to knit at home because she has to cook and take care of her family. Sound familiar?

There were so many places open for touring or for business that had not been open all weekend long. It was a festive day, and there women dressed in traditional costumes on many street corners. You could take a photo of there for $5 CUC, which seemed a bit dear to us. Near the end of the day, Bob managed a discreet photo from a distance.

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One of the places that had been closed over the weekend was a perfumerie. We had looked through the windows of this museum/shop and admired the antique brass containers used for distilling fragrances, the wonderful colonial furniture and display cabinets, and the glass apothercary jars that held the fragrances. I was thrilled to get into this shop to see things at close range! Bob took some photos while I smelled the fragrances and bought a ceramic jar of violetta for myself and lavender for my sister.

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Every store has a beautiful courtyard since they are housed in historic buildings. This is the courtyard of the perfumeria.  Bob and I had been admiring the stained glass every time we walked by this building over the weekend.

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In the late afternoon yesterday, Bob and I happened upon a young man making baskets from palm fronds. In his large basket he had a number of exquisite, small items made from the fronds….birds, and a little house with a cricket on top.

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He was easy to talk to and knew enough English that we could communicate quite well. As Bob and I were marveling at the fineness of these tiny basket creations, he offered me one of his ‘birds.’ It appeard that he was giving me a gift, but I wasn’t entirely sure. Here again was someone offering a gift and letting fate take his generosity where it would. I put the bird back in his large basket and asked him for the little house with a cricket on top. Buying that took a bit more time and frustration than we’d anticipated! First, Bob could not find his money, and as he searched we had the sickening feeling that maybe we’d lost all our money. After a few heartstopping minutes he did find his stash of money, but then we did not have exact change to buy the little cricket. The basket maker could not make change for us. So Bob went in to the local bar to ask for change, but they did not have it either. Then the basket maker left his spot to go buy a beer which would give him change. (You can walk about the streets in Havana with alcohol). He came back smiling, and yet he still did not have the necessary change! In the end, laughing, he accepted somewhat less than his price, and he still handed me the little bird as a gift.

Bob and I went to dinner with my little house with cricket and my birdie sitting on the table before us as a quirky centerpiece. We kept admiring both these baskets, and I decided I had to have another little house with cricket as a present. I hoped we’d still find our basket maker on the street where we left him by the time we left the restaurant—which was a beautiful courtyard that had once been a print shop.

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Restaurant Imprenta:

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When we got back to the spot where we’d seen the basket maker, the other street artists had just finished packing up their wares and were headed home. Likely the basket maker would soon be doing the same. But we’d gotten there just in time to ask if we could watch him make a little house with cricket on top, and he seemed happy to oblige even though he still had one already made. It took about 20 minutes for him to make, and we had a wonderful conversation with him as he worked.

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He started with two long palm fronds and crossed the fronds (north/south/east/west) over each other in the middle of the frond lengths. Starting with the ends that taper down to points, he began to fold each frond over the other in a consecutive direction. Since the fronds were tapering down to their outer ends the little box he was making got smaller and smaller, tapering like the fronds themselves. This made the roof of the house.

 

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Then he went back to the other half of the fronds that led to the base of where they’d been cut from the tree, and he made the same consecutive folds for making a square. This made the house itself. Very clever. He cut some frond strips to insert into the box for doors and windows.

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The exquisite litte cricket!

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As he worked we talked…. He loves to make baskets and these little figures are things he ‘invents’ himself. He is always thinking of ways to make some kind of little structure or animal out of the traditional basket making techniques that he uses to make regular baskets. He took out his phone and showed us photos of his baskets. If he’d had any of these with him I would have bought some too! He does careful work that results in beautiful baskets!

I told him that I sometimes make baskets too, but not from palm fronds since there are no palm trees where I live. Bob took my phone and began showing photos of my weaving and bobbin lace since he could not find any photos of my baskets. When Bob showed a photo of my tatting the basketmaker’s face lit up and he said his wife does this! I asked if his wife also does crochet and ‘tejer,’ and of course he said yes! He said she loves these techniques and loves to work with her hands. We had a little discussion of how it feels to let our hands work the repetitive motions of these crafts while our minds are free to ponder. Making things with our hands allows our brains time to contemplate many things.   He also told me he plays the piano and the violin. Someday he’d like to have a cello. He loves the cello most of all.

After giving me the little house with cricket he’d just made, he asked if I’d like him to make a snake. Naturally I said yes. I was curious to see what other techniques might be used to make these little figures, and the snake involved a different kind of manipulation of the fronds. When he finished he gave me that too. He really was most generous!

The only downside of our visit with him happened when a woman stopped for a moment to watch while he was making little cricket on top of the house for me. He offered her the one that was already completed. When he told her the price ($3 CUC) she said, “Big city prices….no thank you!” and walked away. We were all stunned. Yes, there are vendors who have high prices for things and who expect you to bargain, but these are mostly vendors who sell things that they have bought to sell. The artists we’ve encountered sell their work for very little, and I cannot imagine haggling with them. Perhaps I’m wrong about this, but how can you expect to pay even less for such an exquisite concoction of creativity? $3 Cuc for 20 minutes of work? Also, as a craftsman myself, I have stood in my own booths over the years and overheard people say that handwoven items are too expensive—that you can buy something just like it in a store for far less.

Well, you cannot buy a little basket woven house with a tiny cricket on top in any store that I know of. I was disappointed in this exchange. It would have been better for her to acknowledge what a little gem he’d just handed her, but that she could not spare the money at this time. It’s such a sad commentary that she felt she had to devalue his work in order to get away.

During all our cab trips to and from Old Havana we drive through modern Havana, including Embassy Row.  The US Embassy is newly opened and has never been on the avenue where all the other embassies are.  Most of the embassies are in historic colonial buildings and are quite a sight.  The Russian Embassy is the exception, although it too is quite a sight!  It is an wonderful example of Soviet architecture.

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Tonight we’ll have drinks around the pool here in Marina Hemingway with some of the other cruisers we’ve met in the last few weeks, along with Lars whom we met as we arrived in Cuba two months ago.  Some of us will walk to a local Spanish restaruant in the nearby town (Jaimentio?–something like that) to have a final dinner together.  Then is farewell to Havana and to Cuba.  It’s been great, but home is beckoning.  Bienvenidos Florida by this time on Friday!

 

Moving On…Chivirico

We stayed in Santiago de Cuba for six days. It was such a bustling place that we were quite exhausted about halfway through our stay.

I don’t believe I mentioned that after we were cleared in with the health official from customs, we moved Pandora into the part of the harbor for pleasure boats. As we were getting ready to take the health official back to shore and go to the custom’s office for our interview, we noticed some young men calling to us from shore. We both waved to them all, and that seemed to be some kind of signal for all of them to jump in the water. I swear they were swimming out to us! We quickly locked up the boat in case they were planning to board while we were ashore. Once ashore we asked the customs official about them, but he said they were harmless.

We already knew that no Cuban may go onboard a private boat without written permission from some government bureau issued 24 hours in advance. I did not think these young men would board our boat right in front of customs and immigration officials. But shortly after we sat down in the customs office one of the officers came in and asked Bob to escort him out to our boat in our dinghy so he could scare off the young men (they ranged in age from teens to early 30s). He assured Bob that they meant no harm and most likely would not actually get on our boat. But they had surrounded the boat at this point, and a couple of them were climbing the anchor chain. I was very glad to realize it was Sunday and at least for the next few days they should all have to go to school or work.

Drivers and taxis are quite an experience. On the one hand there is an official fare that cannot be changed so you will always pay the same fare for the same route. In our case, that was to and from the marina and the center of the city. Noel was recommended to us as a good driver with excellent English. Many people who work with tourism want to have lots of practice with their English. A few English people come here, but not enough to help the locals practice on a regular basis. So any English speaking people are popular targets. Noel really was as good as his reputation. Other taxi drivers get $10 each way (and remember this is $20 each way for us since we had Canadian money) to pick up or deliver people to the marina which is well outside the city. Noel would spend time with us after getting into the city, waiting for us at the Cadeca to exchange money, taking us to the large local produce market where he changed our tourist pesos (CUCs) for local pesos and then helped us pay for our goods!

3-8-16d 001Yet there was a downside. The first day we used Noel he helped we arranged for him to come back at a certain time to pick us up. He gave us his mobile number and told us to ask any Cuban on the street to make the call. When we did that later, Noel told me he was not free to come get us. His transmission had malfunctioned and his car was not drivable. Okay….time to try a local taxi. It all went fine. It was just a hassle to brave the phalanx of taxi drivers at the Parque Cedespedes to get one. Each taxi has two men: one to walk the streets hawking you to take his taxi, and one who stays with the car and is actually the driver. There is a sea of the taxi hawkers and it’s a bit overwhelming to try and approach one while at least 10 others are vying for your business. I know they don’t get into fights over it, but it looks like they come just shy of fighting for customers.

Due to Noel’s transmission problems, the next day we used a ‘friend’ of Noel to drive us into the city. He did not speak one word of English so it was too difficult to do any of the shopping we had hoped to do. Anyway, I spent at least half the day at the Women’s Federation, so it didn’t mater that much.

Meanwhile, Noel dealt with his transmissions problems, not by taking his car to a garage….there aren’t such services here. He hunted around for a part off another car that would do the trick. It certainly didn’t have to be from the some make of Czech Rebublic car either. The part he found did not fit his car so he just drilled new holes in it to make it fit. I wonder how many times that happens before your car is no longer sound due to having so many holes drilled in it?

On day three, Noel was back in business. He offered to take us to a Cadeca again, to a bakery and then to lunch overlooking the harbor and then to the Castillo de Morro—a perfect plan for a beautiful day! He had our jerry jugs for diesel in his trunk, and at the end of the day would take us to a gas station to fill them. But we were barely out of the marina and still outside the city when a policeman pulled us over, and in checking Noel’s papers found that his license was 15 days expired. Noel said that he has 30 days to renew, but clearly that is not what the policeman thought. He allowed Noel to drop us in the city, but then Noel was required to go immediately to the police station. So there went our carefully planned day.

Fruit at the large market

3-8-16d 008At the end of the day Noel returned, but still without the proper papers so he was not allowed to have us as passengers in his car. He brought a friend (no English!) to drive us to the bakery and to a gas station, but not out to Castillo de Morro that we’d been looking forward to seeing. Noel was very insistent that he keep the jerry cans in his car, while his friend drove us. I think he wanted to keep us as his customers rather than loosing us to his friend. Anyway, these predicaments seem to be the fabric of life for the Cubans. Noel was not put out at any time over his car problems or his license. He said this is just the way it is in Cuba.

A very odd situation cropped every day when we arrived in downtown Santiago. Men would approach us and say that they recognized us from the marina. These were people we had never seen before! Some men would even say they knew we were on the ‘dark green boat.’ The first man who did this really conned us. I wrote about him in the first post about Santiago de Cuba. He said he recognized us because he was on duty in the customs office when we checked into the harbor. Believe me, I was so nervous and enthralled by that first check in to this forbidden country, I would have remembered him…yet I didn’t. Still, he was very convincing. The paladar he took us to was more expensive than any other place we’ve eaten during our entire stay, although it was very good. And, since we walked past the custom’s office every time we got off the boat, we realized that the man who took us on this little farce has not turned up there during our entire stay.

How could so many people know about us? The marina was a long way from the city center—15 -20 minutes by car. It felt like there was a pipeline of information being passed around about each tourist. And I can only imagine in a country where ‘one hand washes the other,” and “who you do and who you know” might mean that everyone involved got a little piece of the pie.

Also, I think I might have indulged in one too many ice cubes. I seem to be a bit under the weather and experiencing a general malaise. Bob is feeling a bit less than stellar as well. We have each indulged in a couple of lemonades and mohitos during our stay, in spite of my determination not to have anything with ice. Ah well…

So we are now spending a couple of days in a small harbor called Chivirico, a few miles to the west. It was quite a leap of faith to get in here, following the waypoints that Frank Virgintino gives in his guidebook—though we think his final waypoint is a mistake. All went well. We had to navigate through a very narrow cut between two coral reefs, with breaking water on both sides of us (that’s a sure sign that the water is very shallow! And coral reefs are very sharp and dangerous!). Once in the tiny harbor, in calm water, it felt like we’d really accomplished something to arrive here.

Wouldn’t you know that within the first hour of arriving we were barraged by a gaggle of young boys who swam out from where they’d been playing along the shore. One boy was bold enough to begin climbing up onto our swim platform at the stern. But the moment Bob said, NO, you don’t!” the boy slid back into the water and shortly after they all swam back to shore. In spite of knowing that this is a very friendly culture with a social distance much closer than I am used to, I still can’t help being a bit unnerved by all this…what to call it? Exuberance? Opportunity? There is very little privacy! …even in such a small harbor!

3-13-16b 008We had a relaxing late afternoon and evening watching men fishing with hand lines from the shore, watching the same group of boys jump from a tree into the water, and some men in dories throwing round nets. There were men who worked in groups to stretch gill nets or seine nets completely across the entrance to this harbor. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon for us and for the boys, but not for the men, and likely not for the women either.

Late at night while we were watching the stars a boat arrived flying the Norwegian flag. There was no way to signal them about the nets, but they seemed to enter the harbor easily and left just as easily just after dawn this morning. I have no idea when the men might have taken down those nets! We did not see them do it.

There is always some chore that needs doing on a boat, just like at home.  During the past few months our sail cover, which protects the sail from damaging UV rays, has starting to deteriorate.  Just like the sail itself, it is also affecting by UV rays, and the stitching that it was sewn with has come apart in places.  No problem for Bob, who brings his heavy duty sailrite machine with him everywhere we sail.  Here he is with the sail cover spread all over the foredeck, mending away.

3-13-16b 010Here is Pandora sitting pretty in Chivirico.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAs I write this I am high up on a bluff in Chivirico called Hotel Brisas.  It is a stunning spot, and hopefully we will have photos by te next time I post.  We are here for the internet and some lunch.

There is a charming town here in Chivirico that looks like it was frozen in time during the early 20th century.  Plenty of old cars here, but even in more abundance are mule drawn carts.  From the boat we can hear the clop-clop of their hooves as they trot through the streets.  People here have tidy little houses with immaculate gardens.  The shop fronts along the main street are also very charming and neatly kept.  I´m looking forward to buying some Cuban coffee when we leave here in a bit.

The Democratic Women’s Federation for Handcraft

Does that sound like a bureaucratic department in a communist state? Bingo. I am sorry to report that my visit to the Women’s Federation was a bit different than I expected. Yes, it was exciting…but it was also heavily overshadowed by some restraint on the part of the women I met. They had a reserve that was a bit unnerving to me, and none of them showed the enthusiasm for the handwork we had in common that I expected.

I met Noelis at the shop where the traditional clothing is for sale. Maria Estar was again on ‘display’ in a window making a small crocheted embellishment that would be attached to some item of clothing when finished. Noelis was happy to see me and led Bob and me on a walk for several blocks to the building of the Women’s Federation.

The building was a lovely old thing—I’d guess it was once a 19th century residence, one storey with a lovely front porchl.  From the street entrance we cold barely see into a large, dark front room with a hallway running back. Beyond this was a wonderful view of the inner courtyard that had a lathwork ceiling draped in a bounty of magenta bougainvillea blooms.

3-10-16b 006Noelis took us in to the first room where about a dozen women were sitting in a circle practicing their crochet. There was a man who was monitoring who came and went from a desk at the entrance. Noelis asked us to sit down near the desk while she got the ‘manager’ to come out to meet us.

Some of the women looked up from their work and smiled at me. I was very excited at the prospect of getting to see what they were doing! I was right near them, but I already had the sense that I needed to stay in my seat as Noelis had instructed.

The manager was a woman about my age. She looked very approachable, and I think we could have had a great conversation if we had not needed a translator. Noelis was our translator, and I trusted her, but she had such a deference for the manager that I think she translated my words very formally. Certainly what she told me the manager was saying was also very formal. I was not speaking formally to these women, and I have a feeling from the friendliness in the manager’s eyes that she was not speaking formally to me either. I think a LOT was lost in translation.

They told me the purpose of the federation was to keep the techniques used in traditional textiles alive and make sure the traditional garments of Cuba continued to be valued and worn, if not for everyday use, at least for use in life’s traditional ceremonies, such as weddings and other religious events. The women pay to go to this school (60 pesos for 3 months of study and including a hot lunch), and then have the opportunity to make money with their handcrafts after reaching a certain level of proficiency.

There was a class going on in the lush courtyard and there was a large studio with sewing machines where women were sewing various items of clothing. The machines were all Jukis. The only clothing being made that I recognized with certainly was the men’s wedding shirt, called a guayabera. Noelis told me there are many traditional women’s costumes that have the same details as the guayabera.

The manager’s office was a cramped space with no window. The four of us—Noelis, the manager, Bob and I—were quite challenged in the space. At one point another woman came in and joined us. I know that Bob and I created some curiosity, but it seemed that most of the women did not feel comfortable showing it.

While I could see that all the sewing was being done with commercial white fabric (and I had felt the shirts in the shop, and they were not traditional 100% cotton, but some kind of cotton/polyester blend), I still felt compelled to ask if anyone in Cuba was weaving traditional fabric. Noelis did not recognize words ‘weaving’ and ‘loom’ so while we chatted Bob searched the photos on my phone for images of my looms and some of my handwoven fabrics. Once he found these both the manager and Noelis confirmed that no one is weaving in Cuba. They do not have the equipment, but they said some women ‘do this with a needle.’ Hmmm…. I wonder if they meant some kind of needle lace. They saw some photos of my tapestries (tapisaria) and said that is not done in Cuba either.

We talked for a while about bobbin lace, tatting, knitting and crochet. Bob asked if we could take some pictures, and this is when things got noticeably awkward for the women. The manager said (through Noelis) that we would have to go to the Federation headquarters in Havana to ask for permission to photograph. Hmmm… They seemed a bit leery of us from that point on. I tried to explain that women in the US who do handcrafts are very interested in knowing what women in other parts of the world do. That did not go well either. The manager gave me a brochure about the Federation and told me to visit Havana for permission. Bob attempted to tell them that we are living on a boat ….that this method of travel means we will not get to Havana until mid April and we will not get back to Santiago de Cuba, but they said they could not do anything without permission from their headquarters. So, very sadly, that photo at the beginning of this post is all I have to show.

Noelis took me on the rest of the short tour. It was afternoon at this point and almost all the women were sitting together in the courtyard, all eating the exact same lunch on plastic trays with molded dividers to separate the food items—very 1950s. Lunch was white rice, some kind of meat, and some vegetables. As I looked to the side of the courtyard, along the hallway we were walking down, I saw there was a large kitchen where lunches were prepared. So some women work at the Federation as kitchen staff.

Noelis took me to a group of women at a small table just at the back of the large front room we had entered first from the street. Behind a room divider separating them from the space where the crocheters had sat in a circle for their class was a large Spanish carved colonial dining table (and large, ornately carved Spanish china cabinets along that back wall) where women were sitting practicing their tatting…or frivolite. Noelis introduced me to the teacher and then asked me to show her my tatting. I was a bit horrified because of all the textile techniques I do this is the one I am most UNproficient at doing! I did not want the teacher to think that my work represented the quality of work done by women in the US! I asked Noelis to explain to her that I am very much a beginner, that I only started doing this when we left on our trip a couple of months ago, and that this was my second attempt at a trim of rings and chains for the neckline of a blouse.

Naturally, the teacher found all my mistakes in a moment! She had Noelis tell me that I didn’t always have the same number of stitches between my picots, and I must strive to always have the same number. Well, yeah… I do know that even though I haven’t managed it yet. Wish I could have explained that I did this work while bouncing about on a sailboat, usually sailing in gale force and near gale force winds…but I realize that would have been just looking for reasons to explain my faults! Then she said my picots were rather good but there were still tiny differences in sizes, and I needed to get more consistent with that as well. At the end she said that if I was a beginner I was doing very well. Still, I left feeling pretty mortified that of all the things I could have shown a teacher in this school, wouldn’t you know it would be the one thing I barely know!

Noelis escorted us out of the building, and as she left us to return to the shop where we met her (in the historic district) once again she said that she hoped we’d come back with permission from Havana, and that she ‘would be waiting for me.’

This incident put a quite a damper on my enjoyment of the rest of the day, I must say. I always get so excited to meet other textile makers, and I usually feel that it is a language we all share and a place where we can all have the same enthusiasm and ability to teach and to learn from each other. The whole proletariat attitude really took the wind out of my sails–sorry for the dumb pun–but I really felt deflated. Here were a group of women I would love to communicate with about subjects near and dear to all of us, and there was this terrible pall over the whole thing. There was a definite sense of propriety that these women exuded, and they seemed to be weighing their interest in talking to me against the rules of what was expected of them in representing this federation.

After a short walk back to the historic district, we were standing in the main parque when we were approached by someone who said he knew we were staying at the marina… I did not recognize him, although he said he works for the customs department at the marina. He remembered us from when we checked in, but I knew I had not seen him. He offered to show us some sights and find a place for us for lunch. In my newly deflated state I wondered if there was some agenda to his offer….

Well, there was, of course, but also he was generous with his knowledge. He took us to a local restaurant that I’m sure was owned by his family or friends. That was okay because it was a great place, and we would have no idea of how to find such a good local place on our own. ‘Paladares’ are family owned restaurants that the Cuban government has now sanctioned. There are many rules for running one of these: a limited number of customers may be served (I think it is 12), and they cannot serve foods that are reserved for gov’t run hotels and restaurants which includes lobster and the better cuts of chicken. Paladares may serve pork, some chicken, and local fish. We let the waiter choose our meal for us, and it was excellent! This particular place was on the 3rd floor balcony of a small residential building (typical Soviet block cement structure), and up on the balcony was an amazing view of the decayed apartment buildings all around that could have been anywhere from Kabul to Cairo with a backdrop of the stunning harbor.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA3-10-16b 012Some of the surrounding buildings had no roofs, or had makeshift roofs of corrugated tin with many holes and many repairs. All the buildings had windows with no glazing. On one rooftop balcony near us there was a dog that looked very much like our son’s dog Bobi. This gave me a little tinge of homesickness on the very day I was missing my son’s birthday. Well, I was certainly thinking of him.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAOur customs official cum tour guide offered to get us things—cigars, rum…from places that tourists cannot visit and therefore much less expensive. He admitted that he had some ‘relationships’ with these places that would give him a commission for what he sold. It was all a bit overwhelming for me. He said he got his very good job working for the state because of who he knew. He used the phrase “Who you do, who you know,” which sounded like everything was based on what you do for someone and who you know that can improve your own situation. I got that, but he must have wanted to make certain I understood because he added, “one hand washes the other.” –he could not possibly know that I learned this phrase in Latin in high school, about a million years ago! I guess I was too hot and too disappointed in my visit to the handcraft school to enjoy this information. Now, a day later Bob and I have discovered that he does not work for customs at the marina. He’s not the first person to recognize downtown in Santiago de Cuba—every seems to know who we are. I think we were had, but it was kind of fun anyway. Boy, these people know how to turn a trick.

The day was hotter than the previous day, and when we returned to Pandora we had a very cold gin and tonic and a simple dinner of cheeses from France and Italy, and crackers from the UK , that we bought in Nassau. After washing a local mango in a basin full of water mixed with hydrogren peroxide, we ate it. No ill effects today. I might also add that I had a mojito at the paladar and a lemonade at the Casa Granda Hotel, both with ice cubes, and I am still alive. Whew!

National Day for Women in Cuba

Our first trip into downtown Santiago de Cuba happened to be a national holiday for women so the city was hopping. Men and women clogged the streets, children were not in school, street vendors were selling flowers and candy, and there was such an air of festivity all around us.

The streets are old and narrow, and the sidewalks even narrower! It’s a given that pedestrians do NOT have the right of way, so you step into the street at your own risk. Very few intersections had traffic lights and even fewer had the little walk/don’t walk signal. The sidewalks were so narrow that many times you had to step out into the street just to move through the crowds of pedestrians. It was a great day to see this city in full swing!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWe had been advised to change our money at a Cadeca (a money changing facility) because the lines at any bank would be frightfully long. As it turns out there were lines at the Cadecas as well, but they were somewhat shorter. It was all very 3rd world and communist. The lines form outside these establishments, on the hot and narrow sidewalks. There is a guard who lets someone into the building each time someone leaves the building. Inside there is a shorter line, and another guard signals the person at the head of the line to move to next free teller. It took us about 20 minutes to get to a teller, and when I saw a couple of banks later in the day I can see that we made the right choice.

Now here is the funny thing about money—the exchange rate seems to be whatever the Cuban government wants it to be. The US dollar is .87 to a Cuban CUC, and I feel quite certain this not supportable in the world market. We had read in two guide books that there was an extra ‘tax’ on US dollars and it is better to have either Euros or Canadian dollars to exchange. We opted to bring CAD with us. Well 1 CAD is .55 a Cuban CUC, so we have only half the money we thought we had to spend here. Yikes! We should have brought Euros, which have an even exchange rate. Because we are from the US we cannot get any funds from our banks, and we cannot use our US credit cards, even the one that we got for use outside the US. When we returned to our boat last night, we took a hard look at what we have and made a budget. I think we can just get by!

Like many old cities Santiago de Cuba has a public park every few blocks running up Aguilera Boulevard from the harbor up the steep hill that eventually leads into the rural Sierra Maestro range. This is the oldest part of the city, crowded but beautiful, with old colonial architecture. Santiago de Cuba is known for having the unspoiled colonial architecture, along with the oldest surviving building in all of Cuba, the house of Diego Valazquez, built in 1522.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAAnd it is also known for having the most motorcycles in Cuba, and this is what pedestrians must take care to avoid when walking about the streets. It is amazing how many motorcycles there are, most with no mufflers. They dart in and out of traffic, so that you can never be sure when you step off the curb that one might not suddenly cross your path. The streets were full of interesting vehicles and all seemed to love honking, all day… old American and European cars that had been repainted many times. We’ve heard that the engines are most likely no longer original, but a mixture of whatever can be found and refurbished. Many of these cars have Russian or Eastern European engines. There were plenty of small Russian Lados on the streets, and our driver, Noel, shuttled us about in a car with an unrecognizable name from Czech Republic that was 30 years old . Many of the American cars, being so much larger, had been converted into ‘buses’ by removing the back seat of the car and adding on something like a pickup truck bed on a larger scale. There were benches back there that could hold 10 or 12 people, and these vehicles seemed to be getting a lot of business. I was very glad to have a driver with a car! He’d been recommended to us by a Canadian couple who were just leaving this port when we arrived.

This Carmen Ghia is now a taxi. Tempting…but quite small for taxi, don’t you think?
3-8-16b 009We had planned to spend our day walking through the historic district, having lunch at the Casa Granda Hotel, then touring the Casa de Diego Valazquez. But just walking around took longer than we expected, and by the time we got to lunch—roughly 3-ish—which also took longer than we expected, we decided to relax on the balcony of this stately old hotel at a table overlooking the square with a delightful breeze blowing straight up from the harbor. So we never made it to Valazquez’s house. We will definitely get there before we leave.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAEarlier in the  morning we stopped at a café and had a wonderful Cuban coffee with steamed milk. After that we walked along the Jose A Saco Boulevard, which is for pedestrians only (thank heaven!) and has many shops and street vendors selling crafts from woodworking to leather work (very little textile handwork). It was fascinating to us that so many shops sold exotic birds. I wonder if Cubans keep birds for pets the way we keep dogs and cats. I’ve never seen so many colorful parrots and lots of other beautiful birds that looked like variations on quail or guinea hens.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAThe shop entrances are a bit high off the street, maybe just above knee height, and there are the tiniest little cement block steps to enter these shops. There are no railings to hold on to, but sometimes a metal bar in the wall that you can grab if you are feeling unsteady on your feet. I am always feeling unsteady on my feet! Only one person at a time can go up or down these tiny steps so that seems to manage the flow of who is coming out or going into the shops.

The highlight of my day—and probably the biggest reason why we did not have enough time to see the Valazquez museum—was that I saw a woman sitting in a large unglazed window doing some very fine crochet work. Her window was next to a shop full of men’s wedding shirts. I went into the shop thinking I could access the room she was working in from there….but no. There was a door that probably led to where she was, but it was closed. So I went back out on the street and talked to her from there.

3-8-16d 013First I should say that I had already questioned a few people, and then tried to confirm my knowledge with Noel, about the Spanish words for various types of handwork. Crochet is crochet, ‘tejer’ is knitting, ‘bolillo’ is bobbin lace. Noel, our driver, said that many women do handwork but that he is not familiar with names of all the things they do. He said his grandmother had been doing ‘tejer’ for about 75 years, and he confirmed that it is knitting by saying it has two needles rather than one. I said that I had been doing ‘tejer’ for over 50 years, and he found this amazing. It made me think that his grandmother is probably only a bit older than 75, and that he did not realize how young many women are when we learn these techniques.

So I tried to have a conversation with the woman doing crochet in the shop window. I asked her if ‘muy mujeres’ did crochet in Cuba, and she said yes! Most women do lots of ‘projects’ in their homes. I was quite enthralled to learn this. I took out my tatting-in-progress and asked her if this called ‘frivolite.’ Yes, it is.

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After a few more minutes of struggling to communicate, the crocheter called another woman over who spoke English very well. Her name is Noelise, and the crocheter’s name is Maria Estar, and they both work at a local school for textile handwork. I immediately thought of the lace school in Via de Conde, Portugal, and thought that I may have hit pay dirt here in Santiago de Cuba.

Noelis asked to see my tatting and said something like many women in Cuba want to learn this. I was not certain if that meant that no one knew how to do but want to learn, or if it is a popular thing to do. She said the handwork school was closed for the national holiday celebrating women, but that it would be open today. She has invited to come to see it this morning , so that is the focus of my day! She said she will wait for me at the location where I met her yesterday, and she’ll take me to the school. Her last words to me were, “I will wait for you tomorrow!” So charming!

So I don’t plan to dawdle this morning! I have a lot to learn!

Celebrations

It’s Tuesday afternoon.  Bob and I are sitting in a Starbucks in Ft. Lauderdale while he downloads new charts for Cuba and updates his ‘Active Captain’ app.  I am looking through photos from 2015 and realizing how much we celebrated over the past 6 months.  It was a very celebratory year, and my 60th birthday (just a few days ago) finished up the family milestones as the new year begins.

After Bob turned 60 in June (I was busy cooking and did not get any photos), I had some wonderful old friends visit in July.  We’ve known each other for about 25 years, and we made plans to spend part of our weekend going to the NEWS (New England Weavers Seminar) conference in Northampton….. 4 women of a certain age going to a weaving conference!  It was awesome! Here we are at dinner in Middletown on our way back to my house.

Kari friends NEWS 7.2015

Then came our older son’s wedding in August.  We almost never get photos of our two sons together.  It was a rare and wonderful moment.

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Right before Thanksgiving, Bob threw me an early birthday party since it was going to be one of those once a decade birthdays, and I would not be able to see my friends and family when the actual birthday happened.  Here is chef Michael, just starting the hot hors doeuvres before dinner.  What a night!

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A photo with one of my old friends and three of my new friends–all weavers!

Birthday party nov. 2015

Michael is about to cut the cake…

Birthday cake nov. 2015

And my favorite pairing:  white wine and chocolate cake!

Birthday cake me nov. 2015

A few days before my real birthday last week, Bob and I had a marvelous dinner at Pistache in West Palm Beach.  This photo is all about the dinner: duck breast in cherry sauce with truffle polenta…and the harbor park in the background.

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While we are waiting for the weather window to sail to the Bahamas, I’ve been slowly honing my tatting skills.  I’m definitely improving…and now I’ve got enough tatting to go across the back of my green T-shirt and start going down one side of the front V-neck!  Only about a million more little rings and chains to go!

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I worked on it a bit this morning before we came ashore.

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