Wee Ball Yarns: an update

We spent a couple of days on the south shore of the Bay of Islands where I was able to take a photograph of Wee Ball that highlights its wee ball-ness even more clearly. (The view from Gillams on the north shore is partially obscured by Woods Island, a large, flat island that appears to hover just in front of it).

The Tourism Industry: Working for Good not Evil

In the past month, we have had the opportunity to visit with three people who making their living creating handmade objects.

The first two are a couple who live in King's Point in Green Bay, Linda Yates and David Hayashida. They run King's Point Pottery where they make and sell a range of ceramic objects, some inexpensive and clearly made for the tourist market, and some more artful, made with local clay and glazes made from local materials that they have spent years developing and perfecting. In addition to making all these wonderful objects, they run a shop that, beginning this year, also sells the work of other local craftspeople, and they are very active in their community. Linda is a King's Point native and David has taken up the cause with enthusiasm. With their shop at the center, they have created a lively place, bustling with activity and a real feeling of welcome to any and all.

We also had the opportunity to visit the studio of Shawn O'Hagan. Shawn has been living in Corner Brook for nearly 30 years and has had a long career as a painter. In the past four years, she has been using her wonderful sense of design and colour to make hooked mats, children's clothes and painted wooden boxes and bowls. Here are some pictures from her studio where colour is obviously the driving force:


Shawn (facing the camera) speaking with Barb Hunt, another artist living and working in Corner Brook.







I think that what makes them more than just another cog in the tourist machine is that they have not compromised in their vision for their work. Sure, they have small items that nearly anyone can afford and that appeal to a broad audience. But they also have another thing happening that is very engaged in this place. They make work that is unique, that speaks about the experience of being here. Also, they do more than just make their work--they work to make this place welcoming for all. This is, I think, a good thing.

Summer's Disappearing Act

Remember this?



Now this:

Wee Ball Yarns

Here in the Bay of Islands, there are a lot of islands in the bay (duh!). One of the most prominent of these islands is officially called Guernsey Island, but it is known locally as Wee Ball. To me, it looks like a piece of something from another world that has been plopped down in the middle of the mouth of the bay. Tree-less and almost perfectly rounded, it sits, half submerged, alerting all sailors and shoreline hikers that this is not a typical place.

I love Wee Ball. I love its strange look, I love both its names, and I love how it changes in appearance day by day, hour by hour as it gets covered fog or stands out, clear as a bell, against the sky.

And since I love yarn too, I love that I can call my yarn, Wee Ball Yarn.

My goal for Wee Ball Yarn is that it be made from local wool and alpaca and dyed naturally, some with plants I harvest locally and some with other natural dyes, but all reflective of the colours of this place. So when you knit with it and wear it, you will have, quite literally, a piece of Newfoundland with you at all times.

At the moment, the yarn I made up for Doors Open is made from some local alpaca and wool from BC, which isn't local at all. Most of the dyeing was local in as much as I went to the local grocery store and bought the kool aid there, but it isn't exactly what I want for it. I am working on it.

We did have dyeing success with this:







Lombardy poplar leaves, soaked overnight with 1.5 cups vinegar, boiled 45 minutes. Mordant: alum. The colour of the photograph doesn't quite do justice to the lovely, sunny yellow that resulted. It's a keeper!

PS. There are still some skeins left from the Doors Open event. If you are interested, I can email pictures to you - mostly pinks/roses, some yellows. Skeins are $20 for 50g, $10 for smaller (approx. 30g). All proceeds support The House Museum.

The Doors Opened...

and the crowds rushed in!

The day was a stunning success. We were busy pretty straight from 11am to 6pm with people who might never had otherwise made the trek down the North Shore HIghway. It was a wonderful day, despite the fact that it was pouring buckets in the morning. The rain stopped and the people came and really looked and engaged.

Some pictures:


Marlene Simms of the Humberview Bakery came and sold some her baked goods. She bravely set up despite the grey clouds and was rewarded with a dry day and lots of eager customers. Her mother, father and niece Holly spent much of the day here as well and they were all delightful. Marlene said next year she will bring her Newfoundland pony and we will have pony rides! Here is Marlene with two people who can barely take their eyes off the goods.



Jim Butt (in the yellow shirt) came for the afternoon with his collection of insects--all of which can be found right here in Gilams. It was fascinating, if not a little disturbing too. Jim knows just about everything about insects, plants, trees, and more. Jim kept us all eeewww-ing and yuck-ing all afternoon. He also has become my source for information about local plant for my dyeing experiments.


Olive agreed to sell some her jellies, which were voted #1 at Gillams Day. People with great wisdom snatched them up. She donated the remaining, unsold jars to THM. We graciously accepted the donation--it was a tough decision but we managed.


Talk about win/win!

Here are some of the goods:

Wee Ball Yarns, handspun in the Bay of Islands.

Hilly Billies

Patti made an interesting comment on the Tourism, Museum, etc. post. She wrote about the tourists who take the #7 train from Manhattan to Flushing (Queens) for the big tennis event - whatsit called? - you know the one..it's up there will Wimbleton but happens in Flushing (Queens). Anyway, these people, tennis fans, dress as if they are playing tennis not watching it. They wear bright white clothes with a flash of pastel or pink here and there. I suppose I could say something about their bright, white skin too, but that may be uncalled for. The reason they stand out like sore thumbs is that the #7 train is rightly called "the international express" because it carries the richly diverse population of Queens to and from their work every day, every hour. It is a train that is always crowded no matter what time you get on it because there is always someone headed in or out of town to work or play. This is our train, when we are in NYC, and I have strong affection for the train and the people who ride on it. But these tennis people, as we call them, are less complimentary. They get on the train in Manhattan (of course!) and look with horror at the unwashed masses, talk loudly as if no one can understand English, and pretty much show no respect for the people for whom this train is a lifeline. As Patti said, no one would mind them if they would just keep their judgements to their starched and fragrant selfs.

It reminded me of an interview that was on the radio some weeks ago. The owner of a new "luxury condo" development that is trying to get off the ground in neighboring Meadows was being interviewed about whether construction would happen this summer. The owner, who is no doubt a lovely person, kind to children and animals, etc., spoke very enthusiastically but bit by bit revealed that they realized that they had unexpected expenses totalling $800,000 to get the basic infrastructure put in and that one of their largest investors pulled out of the deal. When asked why, the owner (who is German) said the investor thought the area was "too hilly-billy like."

Now this owner sold the idea of this project to the town of Meadows by telling everyone that it would have all sorts of wonderful facilities for the community: a shopping area, a pool, rec center, etc. Apparently he got a standing ovation at the meeting. Now those who were cheering him are hillbillies. I couldn't help but wonder how long it would take before residents of these luxury condos started complaining about the hillbillies in the pool, the rec center, etc., and the gates go up.

No one minds if others see the beauty of this place and want to share in it, but please, keep your judgements to yourself.

The Doors will be Open!

Tomorrow, The House Museum will be participating in the 2007 Doors Open event, along with three other sites along the North Shore and several in Corner Brook. Doors Open is an annual event that happens around the world when places of cultural, historic and/or architectural significance open their doors at no charge to the public. I was thrilled this year when the curator at the Corner Brook Museum and Archives called me and invited THM to participate. I really felt like I had arrived!

Since THM is always free to the public, I needed to do something special to mark the day, so there are some activities planned to make it a fun time for all. You can check out the website for the details but here is a quick synopsis:

Gillams resident and amateur entomologist, Jim Butt, will be on hand with his collection of local and exotic insects.

The Humberview Bakery of Irishtown will be selling their delicious baked goods.

Olive Murphy's prize-winning famed jams and jellies will be on sale - a rare event!.

Get a sneak preview of Wee Ball Yarns! For a fixed donation in support of The House Museum, visitors will receive their choice of this hand-dyed, hand-spun yarn. All visitors will be entered in a contest to win a handknit hat made with Wee Ball Yarn.

Complimentary coffee, tea and juice will be available to all visitors.


PS. Did you notice something about handspun yarn there? More later on that...

Tourism, Museums, etc.

As my pal Yoli likes to say, I have this thing about tourism. Wondering what increased tourism would do to Newfoundland - for better or worse - has been a large part of this project. The act of displaying one's culture for the consumption of outsiders changes the culture, but how, exactly? And who gets to make the decisions about what to display and what not to display?

Strangely enough, last year, when those questions were burning fiercely in my head, I was not so successful in getting many people visiting the museum to really engaged in talk about them. For whatever reason, people shifted their gaze, seemed vaguely embarrassed for me and turned the conversation elsewhere. Perhaps my approach was a little off: "You! Tourist! Explain yourself! Here! I've created a museum for you to do just that right over here..."

This year, I decided to take a more subtle approach. There are bigger issues related to the changes Newfoundland is undergoing and tourism is but one of them. Weirdly enough however, people want to talk about tourism! I haven't had oodles of random, drop-in visitors this year, but those who have appeared on the door step really seem to be interested in what this tourism thing is and how small communities, like Gillams, can benefit and how they might suffer.

Gillams is actually a bit off-the-beaten track for tourists. Most people don't really stay and fully explore the greater Corner Brook/Bay of Islands area. It is more of a stop-off on the way to Gros Morne or elsewhere. It is too bad in a sense because I honestly believe it is as beautiful here as anywhere in Gros Morne, less crowded and you can get a heck of a turkey club at Lynne's in Cox's Cove at the end of your journey. On the other hand, it is as beautiful here as Gros Morne, it is less crowded and you can get that turkey club if you want it.

And that is the tourism conundrum. It takes as much as it gives, perhaps even more. Is there a magic formula in which local communities can gain some economic benefit from visitors without falling into the dreaded tourist trap?

Left, right and center

Tourism? Newfoundland? Later on that. For the time being we are awash in kool aid and fleece and can hardly think of anything else. And the elderberries? Eh. Not quite the deeply satisfying experience that we have been having with kool aid. It looked so very promising;

Here are the berries after being soaked overnight and boiled for 1/2 hour. They made a delighttful lavender colour that was exactly like what my manual said would happen.


See? Doesn't that look promising?

But two hours and a big felted piece of merino roving later (grrr!), I had a skein of yarn (and a giant piece of felt) that was...ummm...let us say, tan. Ho-hum. I didn't even take a picture because, really, who needs to see some tan yarn?

Ok. So scratch the elderberries off the list. For the above reason and because I ended up with ants in my pants collecting them--the tree is situated right next to an ant hill, which I stood upon to pick the berries until I was covered, inside and out, with black ants. Neither of us was terribly pleased. Like I said, scratch elderberries.

Back to the kool aid.


Here is the lovely Lucy surrounded by our new obsession.


A quick hat that was begging to be made from one of our earlier experiments. I spun four colors together in several yard intervals, each bobbin slightly different, then plyed them together.


At the suggestion of Patti, here is the latest: some perrendale fleece in three colours, blended during carding. Matches the blanket covering the couch (that's a chesterfield to you). I have the first 2-ply skein soaking now.

Back to tourism, museums and all tomorrow...

As a result of all that dyeing...

All other activities have been sorely neglected. But the results...oh man!




Now that we have explored some of the possibilities of kool aid, we are moving on to more natural dyes...here are some elderberries I collected from a tree in our backyard yesterday soaking for today's episode in dyeing.

Let the dyeing begin!

We spent the day at our friend Linda's house yesterday and dyed everything that wasn't pinned down.





I was having some anxiety about dyeing those skeins after all the labour involved in making them, in the way it is hard to make a drawing on a sheet on very expensive, hand made paper. But once we started plunging the fibres into those colours, it was so exciting and magical that I wanted to dye everything. And we nearly did too.



Linda used to own a yarn store in Saskatoon. She used to spin too but for nearly 30 years her wheel has sat unused. Yesterday, she used it again for the first time in 30 years! Like riding a bike, my friends.



We had ourselves a good old Newfoundland spinning frolic!

Making hay while the sun shines

After the busy time of getting the big celebration off the ground and entertaining visitors, things have settled down here a bit. But that doesn't mean we are getting lazy. Oh no. Here are some pictures from the nearby organic farm/creative center/gallery run by our neighbor, friend and artist, Colette Urban. She calls her place Full Tilt Newfoundland.


It is in McIvers. Her field looks across towards Benoit's Cove. See that little white blotch up on the mountain...it's snow!


Neighbor Ken Noel on his trusty, 30 year-old tractor and hay baler.

I haven't just been standing around in a hay field taking pictures either. I have been on a veritable spinning binge in preparation for a veritable dyeing binge. I have almost spun up a pound of merino sliver. Here are two skeins drying in the sun:



I have to say, this is some of the best spinning I have done to date. Just look at that delicious merino! Now imagine it dyed a beautiful shade of...?

Slow Down, You Tour Too Fast

Last summer I noticed that nearly every visitor to the museum would do the walk through in about 20 minutes. All my efforts to get them to stop a moment, have a cup of tea and a bun, or participate in some way, were met with a glance at their watch and "no, no, we have to get going...". While I tried not to take it personally, I did think I was doing something wrong--things were too subtle, or there were not enough three dimensional things in the livingroom. Or I thought there was the "museum behavior" issue in which people act as though they are in a museum (a regular museum not my house as museum), and so the idea of kicking off your shoes and settling in for tea was just too far to leap for most. So, I was thrilled when this year's project meant that there are engaging elements in every room. There are places for interaction everywhere, plus audio tours for the people who are uncomfortable with me hanging around them, even some wall text for those who feel the need to read about what they are seeing.

I had nipped the 20-minute tour problem in the bud.

And this year? Same darn thing! Twenty minutes in, and "no, no, we have to get going..." What the...? What about the videos? the audio tour? the chance to try rug hooking or spinning? the opportunity to get your family tree on the wall? the damn tea buns??? Why oh why will no one eat my tea buns?

After thinking it over, I have come to the conclusion that it is not all my fault. There is something about being a tourist, even if it is in your own hometown, that makes people breeze through places. People are always on their way to somewhere else and have "just stopped in" which translates to..."20 minutes and we are outta here".

I was discussing this situation with Marlene and she suggested we start a revolution, a slow tourism revolution, based on the ideas promoted by the Slow Food people. Of course, being local is a big part of Slow Food, but perhaps slow tourism, or should I say, Slow Tourism, could mean to go to one place and explore it slowly, on local transport or on foot, or bike. While you may be spewing large amounts of carbon to get to Newfoundland, once you are here, easy does it. Take your time, talk to people, hook a rug, draw a picture, eat a tea bun. Nice and slow.

Let the revolution begin!

Stepping Out

The celebration was held: the weather cooperated; people came and ate and looked and listened; music was played; jelly was judged. All in all, it was a lovely day.

For the full experience in pictures, please click here.

Many, many thanks to Marlene MacCallum for all her hard work. And many thanks to all the wonderful people who participated in Step Out of The Room, and have offered the rest of us a glimpse into their lives:


Finnian and Lucy Allen


Melissa Blanchard


Midge Jones


Lindsey Mullins


Olive Murphy and Leanne Whiffen


Minnie Vallis


Colette Urban


And a fantastic late entry from Carol Mitchell.

You guys are the best!

Spinning: Feel the Burn

There was a funny moment during the Weekend Arts Magazine interview when the host, Angela Antle, thought the spinning demonstration listed on the announcement for our BIG JULY 14th CELEBRATION was going to be an exercise demo. Yes, that old Newfoundland tradition of riding stationary bicycles. No, no, I meant spinning wool and I am hoping to draw in (get it??!) a woman I met recently who has an old wheel and still uses it regularly. I think it will be a whole lot more interesting to watch her spin than it will me, but I can't say for sure she will be able to come.

Her name is Ada and is 83 years old. We met not too long ago. I showed her my wheel and she was a bit mystified, never having seen one with double treadles or bobbins--she didn't even dare try it because it looked so different from her wheel. She did card up some of my icelandic fleece. It was fascinating! She is a virtuoso. As usual, after the fact, I thought I should have video taped her hands. It was so beautiful to watch their movements. But we determined that we must get together again very soon. She has promised to teach me thrumming, which is her big thing. Before she left I offered her two skeins of icelandic I had spun up and she was very pleased, which made me very pleased. A woolen bond!

It was during that visit that I learned that women used to wash wool by hanging it in a burlap bag on the clothes line for a couple of weeks. Either that, or by submerging it in a fast running brook. I decided to try out the first technique since I just happened to have (ahem) some fleece around. I put it in cheese cloth and hung it out. It has been two weeks and I would say it is nearly ready. I don't know why this amazes me so much, but it does!

Of Hedge Clippers and Koans

I've been mowing the front lawn with a pair of hedge clippers. No, I have not become some total OCD uber-Martha. Far from it. Rather, the weather of the past week and a half or so has been like this: dry and sunny for many days and then rain for many days. During those many days of rain the grass, and I use the term very loosely here, decided to use up all that stored up sun energy and it grew to be very, very high. Too high for my push mower, which on a good day seems to mostly mash and crush more than mow. (Nothing against push mowers - I love them and think everyone should use them - but I think I got a cheapy not meant for "grass" of our...errr...quality) In any case, I thought I would just use the clippers on the lawn to jump start the process.

Four days later and I am almost finished. The end is in sight, although I am beginning to think that this is a painting the 59th Street Bridge kind of situation, i.e. by the time I get to the end, it will be time to start over again. But I digress.

Clipping such a vast amount of high grass is a meditative process and one that has its own set of satisfactions as long as you keep your goals simple. And it has offered moments of clarity. For example, just before heading out for today's allotment, I was contacted by the CBC station in St. John's about doing an interview for the Weekend Arts Magazine on Thursday. As I was clipping, I began to imagine all the witty and insightful things I might say and no doubt will forget completely come Thursday. This train of thought led me to think about how to sum up what exactly this project is all about. Something about defining Newfoundland culture - that much I know, but what exactly am I getting at here? That's when I had my moment of clarity: this project is a giant, three-dimensional koan: "What is this place?"

Like a koan, there is no real way of conveying an answer to this question in words. We can talk about it, around it and try to describe it, but ultimately, it can only be known through experience.

This doesn't help me put my thoughts together in a more coherent way for Thursday but I did clip a heck of a lot of grass!

Opening Day...

...was very quiet and kind of grey. But that was ok since Step Out of the Room is still waiting on a couple of the projects and I am waiting for two of the audio guide creators to finish up. Also, it was Canada Day and people tend to have other plans than examining Newfoundland culture. I dunno why - I am always ready to talk about.

We did have a good time AFTER the museum closed:


Fireworks and bonfire on Gillams beach.

It was a day for another celebration too:



Hint: I am the same age as the answer to the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Thank you Olive for the delicious cake!

West Coast Morning Show

Yesterday we had a bit of a party over at The House Museum. Of course it all happened at about 10:30 in the morning but we were undeterred by the relatively early hour for a raucous get-together. The purpose of the party was actually to meet with Dorothy King, the host of the CBC's West Coast Morning Show. She is doing a piece about "Step Out of The Room," and she was interviewing some of the participants.



It wasn't clear when the piece will air--sometime next week perhaps. We gave Dorothy far more than she needed in terms of audio recording, and perhaps in terms of scones, molasses buns and tea too.

A short interruption

from our regularly scheduled, Newfoundland-centric, program to celebrate Sunnyside Gardens being voted a New York City Historic District.

Hooray for livable, family-friendly, walkable, human-scaled neighborhoods, and the preservation thereof!

Biting off more than I can spin

Ummm....so it all started when my friend Barb mentioned that the craft artisans in Corner Brook were starting to get better organized and wanted to work together to get more exposure and get their work out to the public. I don't really consider myself a craft artist so I usually hang about the fringe (so to speak) of that group but this conversation put a little bug in my head.

A month later and....this:



I'm sorry. I have an illness. And in my illness, I find myself purchasing and accepting gifts of fleece, even when I already I have piles of fleece. To my credit (HA!), only the sliver and box of white fleece were purchased. The other stuff comes from my dear, generous friend, Janine, who now owns a small flock of sheep (hint: cultivate friends in the sheep industry) and gave me some of her 2006 left overs and a couple of 2007s too. I think it is better not to speak of the contact Barb gave me of a woman in Newfoundland with friends in the sheep industry who is hooking me up so I can work with local fleece. The less said about that, the better. Remember: I try not to let facts, experience, or ability get in the way of my ambitions. Apparently, floor space is irrelevant too.

But look:



Merino sliver....looks pretty nice, eh?

P.S. look what I found at the used furniture store:


Singer Model 179, hand-cranked sewing machine, possibly over 100 years old but in perfect, buttery smooth working condition. Runs like a charm!