It's Raining

And I'm not complaining.

Yes, I have an unbelievable amount of work to accomplish and we're more behind with everything this year than I can ever recall, but I'm thankful that the only weather we've had to deal with has been cold and wet.  After seeing the destruction in Texas and Oklahoma, everything I'm dealing with seems so trivial.  What's a little weeding?  We're blessed to have a roof over our heads yet, no matter how humble.

So what have we been doing for the last few weeks?  The usual GADS stuff.  The weather has been really unpredictable, with temps in the 80's one day and the 40's the next.  On Sunday night we had a storm pop up quite rapidly and before I could get out of bed to shut the west window, the curtains were soaked.  You may remember that yours truly sleeps with a CPAP machine and I have a mask strapped to my head, so it takes me a little bit longer to leap out of bed because of the paraphernalia needing removal.

 There wasn't any thunder involved at first, but what woke me up was the sound of hail hitting the windows.  Thankfully the hail was short-lived and not very big, but it did kinda hammer the remaining daffodils and de-petaled (is that a word?) the tulips.

The last of the daffodils.  I'll miss them.

 Our crabapples are just starting to come into bloom now, especially 'Louisa'.  I love those pink flowers and the scent is heavenly.

I haven't planted any of my annual seedlings out yet, in keeping with my annual tradition of never planting until after the first of June.  There's talk of the possibility of temps going down to near 20 degrees Thursday and Friday night.  I'm hoping that's not going to happen, but at least I can protect the plants in the greenhouse.

Growing up and getting ready to move out.

Carl has been working overtime nonstop for the past month which makes for a difficult time getting things done around here.  We have a few projects we had started last fall that we're working on finishing up and of course, there's good ol' Aaargh to contend with yet, too.  His back has been hurting and it's hard to watch him wince with pain every time he moves.  He's stubborn and tells me not to worry, but of course, I do. 

It's hard to keep Carl from working even more when he gets home from working a twelve hour day, but he feels as driven as I do to get stuff done.  He's been behaving and taking it a little easier, at least when I'm watching.

I have made some not-so-smart mistakes with faulty form since I started weight-training back in October, too, but so far, I've been lucky that I haven't seriously harmed myself in the process of becoming more fit.  I'm in the last stage of the workout program from the book The New Rules of Lifting for Women and can honestly say I'm stronger now than I was.

Weight lifting was an eye-opener for me, it was interesting (and at times painful) learning how to do exercises like Bulgarian split squats, Romanian deadlifts and Cuban snatches, just to name a few of the torturous activities I put myself through.  When I'm done with this book, I'm going to move on to  The New Rules of Lifting for Life, which is geared to those of us in our 50's and beyond.  I still approach each workout with a bit of trepidation bordering on dread, which is probably a good thing, seeing as how grace isn't my middle name.  Lift on the exhale, and don't hold your breath.  Don't lift too light, but for heaven's sake, don't lift too heavy, either.  Don't sacrifice form for ego.  And expect to sweat.  Profusely.

Carl and I have to accept the fact that we're Double Nickels now and we don't bounce back the way we used to.  Since spring has arrived and the outdoor work is endless, I've cut my formal weight lifting sessions down from three times a week to once a week.  I've found that I haven't lost much strength in that short of a time and I'm not as sore, which is something I don't need especially since gardening season is upon us.

And of course, I'm still walking.  If it's raining, Ms. Sansone and I have a date in my living room, and if it's not raining, well, then I Exerstride.

 What is exerstriding?  Well, it's like cross-country skiing without the skis and the snow. All you need to exerstride is a pair of special poles which resemble ski poles, but with a few major differences.

The grips are very ergonomically designed and require no straps.

Grips

  And the feet are like little boots:

And yes, it does look a bit ridiculous walking with poles sans the snow. 

If you're interested, I've included a link to Tom Rutlin's website where he explains the exercise much more eloquently than I can. 

  Exerstrider Walking Poles

 Maybe you've heard of Nordic Walking?  Well, Tom Rutlin, a Wisconsin native,  is the originator of the sport, but his technique is called Exerstriding and is slightly different than Nordic Walking.   Mr. Rutlin used to run marathons and also was a competitive cross-country ski athlete but when heel spurs ended the joy of running and lack of snow in the summer hindered the training for skiing, he developed the walking pole exercise in the 1980's. 

How did I get hooked on Exerstriding?  Well, since we had snow right up until April this year, I was cross country skiing all winter and early spring and having a wonderful time of it.   When the snow finally did melt, I was kinda bummed, because x-country skiing is a great workout.  Somehow I stumbled across the Exerstrider site and the rest is history.  Any exercise that mimics cross country skiing and burns more calories than walking while working all the upper body muscles and reducing joint pain in the knees and hips is a win-win for me.  My poles arrived in April and so far, so good.  (And the fact that Carl will use them is a testament to their effectiveness, too, since he's not that into walking for no good reason.)

Trillums are almost done

Yes, people do stare a little, and some even ask if I'm expecting snow or did I forget my skis, but what the heck.  I've brought the poles to our exercise class and a few folks thought they were a good idea.  I don't know if they'll catch on with anyone else around here or not, but that's ok.  I'll keep Exerstriding on.  I thought about using my cross country ski poles for Exerstriding, but the actual Exerstrider poles are so well balanced and made for the sport, plus you don't need straps to hold them onto your hands.  And I also purchased the additional snow baskets so when winter rolls around again, I can use them for skiing, too.  And with the poles, I'm not as intimidated about meeting up with shady characters or other varmints on my walks, either.

 (And no, I don't work for the company, nor have I ever met Mr. Rutlin (though I'd like to).......I'm just hooked on the exercise!)   The time spent walking burns more calories, works all of the upper body too and yet you don't feel like you've worked any harder.  You don't have to speed walk, either.  I can tell my arms and waist are definitely benefiting, so that's a plus, too.

I went so overboard on this exercise that I bought a pair of poles for both Carl and for my friend Ann as a birthday present this spring.  Ann and I are on a mission to get fit and though she was gracious about accepting the 'gift' she was also rather skeptical at first.  Walking with poles as exercise?  How was that going to help?  Ann recently completed a church-sponsored 21 mile walk, yes, that's nine hours of walking in ONE day, and used the poles the entire time.  She says she's now a believer in them, too.  We get together as often as possible to walk and it's relaxing and a fun way to exercise.

Ok, enough about that stuff.....whaddaboutthegardening??  Alrighty, then, back to the actual accomplishments so far this spring:

Willy got a haircut for summer:

And we found some urns that sorta match the tree grates out by the end of the driveway.

Of course, that meant we had to redo the landscaping, too, but it didn't take tooooo long.

It'll hopefully look better once the Bubblegum petunias are spilling out of the urns.

The hosta beds are waking up, along with this variegated dogwood.  I was worried it would have frozen out this year, since I've lost a lot of roses.

Hopefully it will survive the cold nights we might have this week.  I'll have to cover it somehow.

The maples are leafing out, love the delicate form.

Not sure of the cultivar, but this is a spruce, possibly Norway.

We bought this tree from a big box store with no tag, it's going to have a very narrow footprint and needs no staking.  This is the third year in the garden.

Our 'Grandpa Hoo-Hoo' ladyslipper is making her annual appearance:

It's always a relief to see this plant in bloom, it is a treasured family heirloom from Carl's late grandfather.

The Quarry Pond is full of water and the waterlilies are all alive and providing shade for the fish.  (And there are weeds, weeds, everywhere.)

And since it rained today, I had time to make up a batch of homemade yogurt.  And cut a dress out that I hope to have done for a wedding this weekend.  (Hey, it was either yogurt and sewing or housecleaning....sheesh, you all knew what activities would win.)

Nine quarts of whole-milk yogurt in a roaster kept at around 110 degrees for eight hours.

Well, I guess that's about it for the news around here.  It's after midnight again and the wind is whipping the rain up against the windows.  The woods across the road is soughing steadily but it is a soothing sound; maybe by morning the rain will have moved on. 

Spring has sprung!

Spring Has Sprung

The snow finally melted! 

Time is flying, as always, and now that Spring appears to be officially here, I've jumped into the work that needs doing Right Now with my usual scatterbrained efficiency.  Once again, my perennial case of GADS (Gardener's Attention Deficit Syndrome for short)  is also back.  I find myself going to the barn for potting soil only to notice the chickens need a refill on their water jug which leads me to the outdoor faucet where I see a few quack grass shoots emerging which leads me back to the barn to get a trowel.   Then an hour goes by while I try to ferret the quack roots out from the ornamental grasses before I remember my original chore was to finish planting the seeds in the greenhouse.  Duh, but first I'll take the Girls their water and then on the way back from the chicken coop I duck under a low branch on the apple tree and realize this pruning should have been done much earlier, but where's my pruners? 

Sound familiar?  One thing truly does lead to another in gardening, especially.  And the miles on my pedometer reach some pretty impressive numbers (8.2 miles on Tuesday) which is sad, considering they were all accumulated while I walked in circles.

I've been swamped with outdoor work since we've had such a very late spring.  And tonight, I am truly tired clear through to my bones.  Time to get some rest, it's late.

 I miss posting and look forward to catching up on all of your blogs as soon as this craziness subsides a bit.    

I did manage to catch up on the laundry this past Monday, and  I swear we had just about as many pairs of underwear on the washline as this Dutchman's Breeches is displaying. 

Housework is always put on the back burner during gardening season.  (But,  I put it on the back burner for stained glass season, too--ahem, so any spare time is spent chasing the Dust Kangaroos (they are WAY bigger than mere bunnies now) around the abode.

 I want to sincerely thank you all for the wonderfully uplifting and comforting comments regarding my little dog Pudding's recent bout of ill health.  As I write this post she is resting comfortably on the couch next to me.  The new medication seems to be working quite well, and she is almost back to her old joyous self.  We're thankful for the gift of extra time and also for your care and concern.  It is so nice to know there are other people who understand the special ties of love we all have for our dear pets.  They are a blessing and so are all of you!

Stay, Pudding, Stay

May already?  I'm back in the house after morning chores, writing this post, waiting for my feet to defrost.  Oh, it is cold and gray and damp outside, reminiscent of a late March day weather-wise.

Things here have been hectic and well, I've been a bit down in the dumps.  One of our little dogs, Pudding, has been having some health problems, but seems to be holding her own, at least for now.  Our wonderful veterinarian prescribed some pills for her congestive heart failure and she is now seemingly feeling better.  She is fourteen years old, after all, and any time we have left is precious.  I find myself petting her and her brother, Teddy, more often than ever.  I know it's awful to take anything for granted, but I'm guilty.  I like to think the people and pets I love will simply go on forever because contemplating the time when we have to part is too painful to bear.

A year ago, Pudding scared me badly when she suddenly started to almost scream in pain while lying in her bed one morning.  The sound cuts you to the core of your heart, it is like nothing I have ever heard from a dog before.  I rushed to comfort her and see what was wrong, and she seemed to be having trouble catching her breath and didn't seem completely conscious.  Incredibly, after a minute or so, she simply shook it off as if nothing had happened, opening her eyes, and gently licking my hand and then ready to go outside and start the day.  I was a wreck.

Pudding lying in her bed this morning. 

The vet could find nothing really wrong with her, even on x-rays, but suspects it is her heart as she does sometimes cough shallowly.  Our vet is a wonderfully caring man.  I have half-jokingly asked him many times if he ever considered treating people, but alas, he is devoted to animals only.  I wish I could find an MD I could trust for my own health care as much as I trust this veterinarian. He started Pudding on a course of heart pills, and for a year they worked, until two weeks ago when she had another episode at 10:30 at night. 

Joel was home and between the two of us, we rushed to her side.  The high-pitched wailing stopped, and we both thought she was dying.  She had stopped breathing and when Joel pressed his head to her chest, he could hear no heart beat.  My heart sank to my toes and the tears began to fall.  She had seemed so chipper lately, eating and drinking, going for her walkies just like always; this was so sudden. 

Just as we both thought all hope was gone, she just as suddenly rallied, trying to hold her head up.  I fell to my knees and cradled her head, and she opened her eyes and looked at me and licked my hand and simultaneously rolled on her side so I could rub her tummy.  By now my tears were forming a puddle on the floor.  I thought she had gone and now she was back.  After five minutes she got up and took a drink from her bowl and then went to the door as she usually does to go outside.  If we hadn't witnessed the whole event, it would be hard to believe anything had happened at all.

I spent the better part of an hour lying next to her on the floor, listening to her heart and worrying.  Finally Carl said I should go to bed as she seemed to be resting peacefully and kept looking at me quizzically.  I slept terribly that night, getting up to check on her and dreading what I would find. But every time she greeted me with her bright eyes and her tail wagging.

 The next morning, the vet prescribed another heart med to be added to her current one and now, eight days later, she seems to be feeling much better, but I have to remind myself that the day is coming.  I had a frank talk with our veterinarian and told him I didn't want to be prolonging her life out of selfishness on my part to let her go.  He assured me that she didn't seem to be in any chronic pain, such as with arthritis, and that the pain she does experience is much like angina heart pain in people, intense, but fleeting.  He thought her quality of life was still quite good and we should feel free to enjoy however much time we have left.

I went into a bit of a depression over all of this, I am ashamed to admit.  Yes, I know Pudding is only a dog, and I have only had her for five years.  Heck, when she first arrived, I wasn't too terribly thrilled about acquiring a second dog, but took her in because she was so cute and in need of a new home.  Housebreaking a nine year old dog was not without  'What the heck did I just get myself into?' moments, to be sure, but it was all worth it.  I have NEVER had a dog as devoted to me as Pudding.  She always wants to be at my side and I often look up to see her adoring gaze fixed on my face.  She thinks I am Perfection Personified.  (Well, except for bath and grooming time.) She has the sweetest disposition of any dog I have ever known, to me she is pure love.

I left yesterday to go to exercise class in town and when I returned home an hour later, I was smiling ear to ear as I heard her joyous barking on the other side of the door.  There is no one in my life who is THAT happy to see me after I've been gone a mere ninety minutes.  Pudding views every one of my homecomings no matter how short as if I'd been far away for years.  She presses herself against me, running around my legs and making insanely happy doggy noises and I have to bend down and greet her, stroking her soft head and rubbing her tummy.  She often takes one of my fingers in her mouth very gently and holds on for a few seconds as if to reassure herself I am truly there. 

She is a Champion Licker, always has been, and I used to discourage her, but no more.  She can lick all she wants. 

I aim to cherish the time we have left. 

I pray she stays just a little bit longer.

Rain, Snow, Repeat

Old Man Winter is not ready to give up on us here in Wisconsin this year.  Many people feel he's definitely outstayed his welcome, there's a lot of griping and gnashing of teeth going on, but it won't do any good.   Might as well grin and bear it.  

Hosta bed

On Tuesday night we had a doozy of a thunderstorm with lots of wind, rain and pelting sleet followed by about 2" of snow.   I was really surprised to see how much snow had accumulated this morning.

I wasn't the only one surprised, either. 

The Girls were astounded and there was much gnashing of beaks as they surveyed the situation outside the coop.  They'd been having such a good time for the last week or so, working the hosta bed mulch over and scratching and hunting to their heart's content all over the two acres wherever the snow had melted.  But now they were back to Square One.  Snow everywhere.

Normally when I open the coop in the morning, the Girls beat me back to the house, they are very industrious workers and are always on a mission.   They have Things To Do and Places To Be.  This morning they were confused.  

"What?  Snow AGAIN?"

Aw, Poop on it, we're going back to bed. 

It's hard to be a chicken in Wisconsin.

And speaking of being chicken, I am really being one this year as far as planting seeds goes.  On Sunday, Carl, Joel, Ann and I put the greenhouse up.  We had to get the snowblower out to blaze a trail through four foot tall drifts just to get to the shed last week but we were glad we did it before the frost came out of the ground or the trailer would be up to its axles in mud.  The components of the greenhouse sat in the driveway until Sunday when the rain stopped.

Joel on the tractor and Carl getting ready to move a greenhouse end

 We had to wait until the driveway snow melted enough so we could put the greenhouse up, but even by last weekend, we'd had no luck.  So, we took the tractor and shoved the snow around and chopped and hacked our way back down to the gravel. 

Greenhouse 'ribs' piled up against Willie the Willow

With the four of us working on the greenhouse construction we had it done in about five hours.  This isn't my favorite job by any means, and I know we could leave it up year round, but where to place the hoop-house opens up a whole 'nother kettle of fish, so we won't go there.  (Carl wants to move the garage......yes, you read that right, he wants to move the garage, and put the greenhouse where the garage is now.)   Capital Idea, dear Carl, but since we still have Castle Aaargh waiting in the wings, I think we have more than enough projects for right now.  Maybe in the future.  (Or maybe not, shhhh, you didn't hear that.)

There she be, in all her glory, April 10.

So, the greenhouse is up and I have about half of the flats filled with soil and on the heated tables waiting for seeds.      The seeds are sitting in the house waiting for me to make up my mind.  It's not really too late to plant my annuals yet, but for some of the trailing petunias and other things, the time is getting short.  We're less than seven weeks away from planting time, which for me, is June 1.  Many folks plant their annual flowers out in their gardens a bit earlier than that, but a late spring frost is not unheard of and even in June, our temperatures are usually far from balmy.  I hate to take a chance on planting out only to have a nasty frost kill off a few thousand annual plants, so Cautious Karen waits for June.

I had all good intentions of planting at least the petunias today, though.  But with Tuesday's thunderstorms in the afternoon and then the bedlam last night, I wasn't so sure.  For one thing, the greenhouse sits fairly smack dab under Willie.

Willie, 34 years old and getting bigger every year.  And we should have pruned him properly back in the day.

 And Willie was encrusted with ice this morning, along with every other tree in the yard.  Weeping willows are notorious for losing branches, it's what they do.  Why did we plant a weeping willow?  Carl's late uncle Jack gave us a rooted whip from his tree (which he shortly thereafter cut down as he was living on a small city lot) and we were youngsters and green as grass when it came to knowing what to plant where, so we stuck the little whip in our alfalfa field turned lawn-to-be and hoped for the best.  We never thought Willie would grow.  But we were wrong.

All the trees were covered in ice.

I went into the greenhouse this morning and was filling flats with seed starter, but the ice falling from Willie's branches as the temperatures rose and the wind blew was deafening.  (And kinda scary.)  I was really getting worried that the next noise I heard would be a branch coming to visit, so I got outta there.  Despite being leery of Willie's branch tossing antics, we really do like the tree.  Yes, willows are messy and brittle and kind of a nuisance, but as you can see, Willie is already starting to show color and is the first tree to leaf out and the last one to drop leaves in the fall.  Watching a breeze ruffle the leaves is mesmerizing on a hot day, the movement is peaceful and fluid.  And Willie is a major shade provider.   We'd miss him if he was blown down.  But we'd be sure to take some branches, root them in water, and start another one.  (And make sure we prune it correctly this time.)

As I was fleeing the greenhouse, the snowplow went by.  There were power outages all over the area today, though we were lucky, but tonight we're forecast to have even colder temperatures and more snow/sleet/bedlam so who knows how long our power will stay on?  And if the power goes out, there goes the heated pans in the greenhouse and I'd have to scramble to find room for about 40 flats in our teensy, stained glass-congested house (yes, I'm still whittling away on the big Wisteria).  The forecast for tomorrow is 100% snow and temps dipping down to 25.   And the extended forecast calls for more of the same, up til the middle of next week. 

I think I'll take a wait and see attitude.  I detest planting seeds on my kitchen table.  It's more fun to make a mess out in the greenhouse.  This weather won't last forever.  Actually, I'd be more heartbroken if the spring flowers were blooming already because the snow and sleet would have devastated the show.  When Spring finally does arrive, it's gonna be glorious!

Oh well, what's a girl to do when she can't plant her petunias? 

 I went skiing.

Keep Smilin'!

Daffodils, At Last!

Fresh off the form and in need of a bath.

By the time I get done writing this post, it will be April 1.  Oh, boy.  April is one of those months that absolutely speeds by for me.  We have snow on the ground yet, oodles of it.   In eight weeks I should be planting my annual flowers in the ground. Oh boy, yet again!  I am getting a bit nervous, and I think this week we will have to get a tractor out and plow a trail through the 4' deep drifts to the shed where the greenhouse is stored.  I really should have some of my seeds started by now.

The snow is melting, but it's rather drab out there. 

March 30.  Yep, lots of snow and NO I didn't get the Christmas deer put away yet, either.

And since we still have so much snow, there are definitely no daffodils in sight, either, though there are a few popping up next to the house foundation on the south side. 

So, since there's no daffodils outside to talk about yet we'll have to be satisfied with indoor daffodils, as in the Tiffany reproduction 'Daffodil' lampshade we just finished this weekend.

Carl labeling the repeats in early February.  We use old house windows to hold the copies.

The Daffodil shade has six repeats, meaning there is one pattern which is cut out of glass six times to go all the way around the 20" shade.  Joel had six copies made of Mylar at a blueprint shop and I used a hot knife to cut the lines around each of the 684 pieces.   With six repeats, it is important to keep each individual one labelled so we can tell them all apart after the glass is cut and ground and the patterns are removed.  For this lamp we used dots dashes and finally, numbers (I'm not sure why we didn't use numbers in the first place) to keep all the pieces straight. 

Window pattern for petals

As usual, I used the 'window system' and made paper copies of the pattern, cutting out each of the flowers making a template to lay over the stained glass so I could locate the best shading for each part of the design.  I lay the pattern on the glass and after I find the area I want to use, I take the Mylar pattern piece, and glue it to the glass for cutting.  Then I move on to the next piece.  The idea is to make the flowers look as real as possible.  (If I'm lucky.)

Petals, we have petals, we have lots and lots of petals.

I had precious little glass to work with for this shade and was worried it wouldn't all come out of this one sheet of glass, but I was lucky.  This is gorgeous mottled Uroboros glass in two shades of yellow and white.

Paper template of the leaves and stems.

I dawdle around for what seems like days before I decide on what colors to use for a new lamp.  We don't have an unlimited glass supply, so in the end, I have to work with what we have.  For those of you who sew, I'm sure you can relate to the feeling.......I have a few pieces of fabric I just adore in my stash, but I'm afraid to make anything out of it for fear the pattern won't be worthy of the fabric, so the fabric sits on the shelf, waiting for the Right Project. 

Our stained glass stash is far dearer to me than any of my fabric so this makes glass selection even more fraught with anxiety.  Good stained glass is hard for us to get and very expensive, not to mention the time involved in the labor of actually making the shade. If my color choices aren't good, the end result is an ugly lamp.  And, not to cast blame, but it would be All My Fault.  No pressure. 

The section I colored is one repeat.  I always do this with every pattern and use it like a road map and to help envision the look we're trying for. 

I hunt and peck around on the glass, looking for nice green stems in varying shades of green mottles.  There are a lot of leaves in this design.

Uroboros glass in two shades of green with yellow.

 I have to remember to leave enough room to cut the glass shapes out, too.  Sometimes I'm very guilty of putting pieces too close together which makes for nerve-wracking glass cutting.  Luckily, Joel is very good at what he does. 

Nothing left to lay out here but background and borders.

As the glass is laid out with the Mylar pieces, the pattern templates get emptier and emptier. 

Uroboros blue and green mottle for background.

Here I've got the window template for the background laid out on the glass as I try to figure out where I want the colors to be in the finished shade.  I wanted the green areas in the background glass to 'color bleed' into the stem and leaf areas and then turn to the darker cobalt blue nearest to the daffodil flowers and the border.  The idea was to give the impression of more foliage and sky in the distance.

The daffodil flower centers were a fun challenge.  I wanted to make each daffodil appear to have a cup in the middle instead of just an orange blob.  Luckily I had a wonderful piece of Oceana glass which was heavily mottled and just enough to get some very nice centers.

One center down, twenty-three more to find.

Cutting table.  

We all take turns cutting; but on this lamp Joel was able to handle almost all of it as he had the time.  I did cut a few pieces, though.  (Like five or so.)

After the pieces are cut, they are taken to the glass grinder and each one has the rough edges removed.  I ground every one of them on this job.

I got a kick out of stacking them all up like cookies.  (Yeah, I'm a bit obsessed with cookies yet, can you tell?)

 After each piece is ground, the Mylar pattern piece is peeled off and the glue is washed off.  Then I dry them and label with a permanent marker by pattern piece and repeat number.

All labeled and ready for foiling.

Look it's a crude daffodil!  Can you see the dots on each piece denoting the repeat number?

Applying copper foil to each piece.

I love to foil, and this lamp was a joy.  The pieces were so much bigger than the last two shades we've built; the Laburnum had 1,986 teensy pieces and the Pony Wisteria had almost 900, some no bigger than my pinkie fingernail, so this job with it's big, beefy leaves and petals was a hoot.

Once I had the foiling done it was time to lay out each piece of glass on the light table and see if what I'd selected worked or not.  I always foil first which is not the way most stained glass artists prefer to do it.   Most artists prefer to check their color selections first, then place the glass on the lamp form for fit and then take each one back off the form one at a time and foil.   I admit to doing things Bass Ackwards, but hey, to each his own.  By foiling whenever I have the time, I have been known to take it with me to doctor's appointments and when I go visiting friends and we're chatting, like knitting.  I love to watch TV and foil, it's very relaxing.  I'll usually lay out glass for a few hours, then cut and when I get tired of that, grind for awhile.  I do most of my foiling at night while watching TV. 

A big glass jigsaw puzzle.  Find the right repeat.

We bought a glass-top table at Goodwill for $12 and it works great for laying out the finished repeats.

 The design keeps filling in as I get more foiling done.

Just a few left to do.

 

 

Then comes the moment of truth.  Let's turn on the lights and take the paper pattern off the back of the glass table. 

Whoa, this is one LOUD lamp.

We stare at it from all angles. and decided we had a few pieces to recut, but only a few. 

The center mottles on the daffodils worked out pretty well.

Time to transfer the pattern to the form.

I didn't take any photos of the lamp on the form before soldering.  Carl handles that job by himself, and my hat is off to him, he's good at it.  Keeping the borders nice and straight and everything even would drive me batty.  By the time he was soldering this shade, I was hard at work on the Big Wisteria which we started in mid-March.  Carl had to wait until the snow melted enough so he could get his shop door open since he once again opted to solder out there, in the cold.  He said it wasn't so bad this time as it was in January when he soldered the Pony Wisteria, but he still came in shivering uncontrollably after three or four hours of sitting on an upside down five gallon pail despite having a heater running.

Please Release Me, Let Me Go

After hours of soldering, Carl was finally done with the outside of the shade this past week.  Joel was home and helped with taking the glass off the form.  Carl was using a heat gun and spinning the lamp around rapidly, trying to heat the glass enough to melt the beeswax securing it to the form.  Joel was mopping up the wax as it started to melt and the five gallon pail was there to catch the lamp in case it released from the mold without anyone catching it.  

Around and around we go, and when it releases, nobody knows.  These lamps are built using the 'Odyssey' system; the forms are fiberglass and can stand up to the heat of a soldering iron with no damage.  But you have to be careful not to overheat the glass, which can crack.  Sometimes you have to take a mental health break, turn off the heat gun and just breathe during this process. 

Success! 

After about ten minutes, the wax melted and there you have it, a brand new, gooey and sticky shade, which now has to have reinforcing wires applied and be completely soldered on the inside.  Carl will have to adjourn to his solitary shop a few more times for at least another twelve hours total.  

But first we have to take some preliminary photos of the not-clean lamp:

 

Don't worry, the numbers will wash off.  

Carl, surveying where the reinforcing wires will go on the inside.

Carl finished soldering the shade on Saturday night.  It's still in need of a complete cleaning, which entails dental picks and scrubbing and more scrubbing and finally a patina will be applied to the solder to darken it.  

  I will admit, my color choices are a bit bright, maybe way too bright for some folk's tastes, but Joel says he likes this one the most so far.  That's good, because they are heirlooms.

Good thing we have long winters.  Both of these were built in 2012-13.

 Our temperatures are predicted to be a bit below normal for the coming week, but the snow is melting gradually.  Mother Nature is taking her good, sweet time delivering daffodils this year, but that's fine with me.  We can wait. 

They'll be here real soon.