Dear Friends,
I hope you had a Great Thanksgiving Holiday!
It's been a very busy and happy week here.
Our son heads back to campus tomorrow:(
but will be back in a few weeks for winter break:)
hard to believe his 1st semester of college is almost behind him.
Tonight I'm finishing Holly~Tree
My newest wooly cupboard hanger
Stitched of my hand-dyed wool with wool threads and black walnut aged ticking.
This is my December offering for Early Work Mercantile tomorrow night.
This week I'll be pulling the last loops in On The Hill
The 2015 Annual Rug project
when the sample is complete...I can move on to prepping the kits that will begins shipping in January.
Have a good week ~ L
Hope you all had a BOO-filled Halloween!
In between the trick-or-treaters I was busy finishing up on this month's offerings at Early Work Mercantile
It's the start of our Log Cabin Christmas...
I hope you will take a look at all the handmade goodies...
and consider giving the gift of handmade this holiday season!
..."and would you know how oak trees grow,
the secret may be told,
you do but need to plant the seed,
one acorn in the mould"
...The Story of Mistletoe
The story goes that Mistletoe was the sacred plant of Frigga, goddess of love and the mother of Balder, the god of the summer sun. Balder had a dream of death, which greatly alarmed his mother, for should he die, all life on earth would end. Balder could not be hurt by anything on earth or under the earth. But Balder had one enemy, Loki, god of evil and he knew of one plant that grew neither on the earth nor under the earth, but on apple and oak trees. It was lowly mistletoe. So Loki made an arrow tip of the mistletoe, gave to the blind god of winter, Hoder, who shot it, striking Balder dead. For three days each element of universe tried to bring Balder back to life. Frigga, the goddess and his mother finally restored him. It is said the tears she shed for her son turned into the pearly white berries on the mistletoe plant and in her joy Frigga kissed everyone who passed beneath the tree on which it grew. The story ends with a decree that who should ever stand under the humble mistletoe, no harm should befall them, only a kiss, a token of love...
~L
