Knitting & Crocheting Are Hot!Julia Roberts does it, so does Vanna White, Cameron Diaz, Sarah Jessica Parker, Daryl Hannah, Hilary Swank, Julianna Margulies and many others. Knitting or crochet is one of their favorite hobbies, but these crafts aren’t just for celebrities. Learn why 20 and 30 year olds are turning on to crocheting and knitting, joining the 38 million consumers who enjoy doing these crafts.
I have about 15 projects on my desk that need to be completed. Yeah, they've all been started and are sitting at varying stages of completion. A part of me is afraid to finish one of them for fear I'll replace it with two more, which is my modus operandi as of late.
I'll finish this later.
measures 6 inches deep by 13 inches wide. The conservatory stands about 12 inches tall--the door is hinged.
There is a battery (replaceable) operated LED light in the cuppola.
The swing in the garden really swings from the crochet bonsai tree.
Most of us have ugly memories of persimmons when a mean pal or sibling thought it would be funny to entice us to eat an unripe persimmon. That memory really never fades, but for those of us who survived and had the courage to try one that was "guaranteed to be ripe" we have arrived on the other side and are huge fans of the last fruit of the summer, well, around here, anyway.
When I was in California, I was introduced to the persimmons grown there which are easily the size of baseballs. You may have even seen them in the "exotic" section of the fruit aisle at the grocery. Fuji Persimmons. At any rate, I loved them! But when I returned to this part of the country, the only persimmons available to me in the wild were the native persimmons which yielded fruit the size of a ping pong ball in a good year. And they are full of huge seeds. They taste wonderful, but they are hard to cook with. Besides that, I had to clothe myself in camo with grease paint and skunk scent, crawl along the edge of the woods, snatch and grab the ripe ones before the wildlife got them all. Not a pretty sight. Not at all.
I received a catalog about 3 years ago from Jung Seeds. In the back were fruit trees. Lo and behold, there was a persimmon tree that yielded two to three inch fruits with small seeds. The variety of this tree is called "Nikita's Gift," a cross from Russia between a native, cold tolerant persimmon and the asian 'Fuji' persimmon that I was familiar with from California. Hesitant to spend $30 or $40 for one of these trees, I finally gave in and got a couple of them. I now see the prices are much higher than that, now. Whew! I'll be babying these gems, for sure! We had a very cold winter. I didn't protect the trees from the cold, but when I planted them, contrary to the "rules" I added some of our WPR-Compost to the hole because our hill is nothing but gravel and clay.
This year I got a bumper crop of these lovelies. I pruned off the little ones in the spring, leaving 1 fruit for every 4 or 5 inches. Unable to wait until they were completely ripe on the tree, I plucked 5 or 6 that were still firm, before our first freeze (Oct 22). I put them into the freezer for two days. Took them out and let them thaw on the kitchen counter. They were delicious. I picked a full bushel of them 4 days ago which are all ripe and ready since we've had a couple of good freezes on them.
This is how I process them: Core each fruit like you would a tomato. With a little bit of water (16 ounces for a 74 ounce Ninja blender container) I add about 10-12 of them and puree for about 10 seconds on medium speed, until they are all liquified.
Here are a couple of good recipes I've tried thus far:
Basic Persimmon Pie --A very, very, low -to- no added refined sugar pie.
Blend all the ingredients and pour into the pie crust. Bake at 325 for about 20 minutes. Let cool to serve. Can top with more cream cheese, marshmallow cream, cool whip, or whipped cream.
Persimmon Cookies--again, low sugar. These are very soft cookies.
Blend all the moist ingredients then add dry ingredients, then the nuts and craisins. Blend until all moistened. Spoon out onto well-greased cookie sheets. Bake for 15 min in 350 degree F. oven.
Options: Canned pumpkin works well in place of persimmon.
Ok, so I've been a little absent lately from all things technical. Sometimes we just need to sit and twiddle our thumbs for awhile and regroup. I'm not done twiddling my thumbs and I haven't regrouped. Therefore, my newsletter will remain unwritten for a couple more months. My house is a wreck and will likely remain so for at least another month. All those needlework projects will stay in my head for a few more weeks. I have managed to bathe regularly, keep my teeth brushed, and get dressed each day. Woohoo! Life happens and sometimes puts our best intentions on hold. In conclusion, there is a mystery I have yet to solve. I have been in western Kentucky for 22 years as of this past Labor Day. To date, I have yet to comprehend where "YONDER" is located, and for the life of me, which direction is "OUT?" "
"Y'all" enjoy the holidays, and I'm "fixin'" to head to a baby shower.
I always considered myself the outdoors-y type. Thought I was tough; have never known a professional pedicure or manicure; could bench press 200 lbs; spent my free time hiking or backpacking in the Sierra's or along the North South Trail of Land Between The Lakes with a 65 pound pack on my back. Camping was sissy. I backpack. Alone. In the mountains. I am tough.
I am also 50 something now, and things may have changed. Five years ago, I was still trying to operate on the above premise--toughness. In the past five years, Doug has, without saying a word, shown me that I'm not the rugged, farm, country-type I thought I was. Yesterday was the nail in that coffin when I tried to catch Gus, our 17 hand white horse, after he walked through the pasture fence--again--and was running like a freight train around the house, through the orchards, through the garden, kicking and farting and blowing up a dust storm.
"I've got this. No problem. I did this a couple of weeks ago without incident," I say out loud to the five dogs looking at me as if I should just run for cover because they were. These guys are gentle and have only knocked me through the fence and stepped on me one time in 5 years. And they didn't mean to do it then. So, I march out to the garage to fetch his feed bucket, fill it with feed, and out I go. But Gus wasn't ready to go. At least not back into the pasture. He took off headed right for me and my bucket of feed, skidded to a stop in front of me, jammed his huge head into the feed bucket which I promptly dropped and spilled feed everywhere. Gus is panting and quivering and prancing about. The other two "big dogs," Rhett and Deets, are whinnying, stomping, and prancing in the pasture.
"Perhaps if I take Rhett and Deets some food, then Gus will follow me back into the pasture to get some more," I hypothesize. I loaded up the bucket again, but this time I'm just a little nervous because Gus has taken to running around again. I'm old enough to understand how pain feels. I hug the side of the house, head towards the pasture, then peek around the corner. No Gus in sight. I make a mad dash for the greenhouse. Just a few more feet. But, "Oh, Heck!" there he is, right in front of the greenhouse drinking water from the catch barrel. So I stand there. Swatting flies--just like Gus--waiting for my moment. I go back to the table in front of the garden to sit down in the shade and wait for him to run off. Except now I am cut off from going back into the house with my five scaredy-cat dogs. The chickens, which were hiding out under the mulberry tree take off and head for the henhouse, like a chicken train. You can see them in the third row panorama of pictures above. "Run, Girls!, Run!," I yell. Suddenly I see my opening and make a mad dash for the porch and into the house. "He's not hurting anything," I say, " in fact, maybe I won't need to mow this week after all!"
Ultimately, Gus is re-corralled and all is well. So, here is how you DO catch a horse: wait for husband to come home to walk the 1200 pound "big dog" gently back into the gated pasture. Dejected, embarrassed, and finally humbled, with my head bowed in front of Doug I say, "I guess I'm not as tough as I thought I was. I guess I'm really just a city-girl, aren't I?"
"Oh, I knew that all along," he replied with a grin. "I also knew you'd figure it out for yourself one of these days."
who are we?
We are avid seamstresses and crafters since the ORIGINAL 1970's, and we're still going strong. We're also yarn, fabric, and pattern hoarders. ("Speak for yourself," protests Alice.) We, ok, I haven't parted with my stash in over 40 years until now. Maybe we'll have something that you just can't live without! Enjoy browsing!
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All photos and stories on this website are the property of Dianna Johnson unless otherwise indicated. Please don't copy them and call them your own. Plagiarism is not only really rude and mean, but it is against the law. I have made every effort to give credit to other artists when I have used their work, and would ask that you do the same if you use mine! Thanks.
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