Warm Little Things comments: 71

I had my handwriting analyzed when I was twenty-four. One of the (many) things it told me was that I was not spontaneous. This is true. I'm plodding. My one spontaneous act seems to be to start making a quilt at the exact time that I have lots of other things going on. It's really weird. It must be some sort of reflex. It's like just all of a sudden if I have all of five minutes to myself I walk, zombielike, to the rotary cutter and start slicing away at stacks of fabric. Before I know it, I have a basketful. In this case, I cut 2"-wide strips of dozens — I don't know how many — tons — way more than I needed — of the cutest, sweetest fabrics in my stash, to make a little quilt for my cutest-sweetest. Creams, pinks, blues, flowers, bunnies, dots. Tiny rosebuds and little elephants. Hedgehogs and purple cherries. Polka-dots (which she calls "bubbles") and baby cats (which she calls "ah-ahs").

Do you know how to make a log cabin quilt? It's a wonderful thing. My friend Susan taught me how to do it. It's so easy. I don't do it exactly clockwise. I just do it randomly. It might be clockwise, but it might not be. I just go. When the blocks are done, you add the blue strips, horizontally between blocks and then a long strip of vertical "logs" with 2" squares at each intersection. I used wool batting, and then a grayish polka-dot flannel for the back. Cream-colored cotton with little lavender dots for the binding (which is done by machine and by hand). This one I'm going to tie (which is how I did this one and this one [and this is just plain funny]). I don't always tie them; sometimes I have them professionally finished. But I want to tie this one. I like how soft and floppy they are when you tie them.

We also made cinnamon baked doughnuts. They were delish. Ish. Maybe too much vanilla? Is that possible? Two teaspoons of vanilla is a lot. I think next time I'll leave out the vanilla and leave out the cinnamon in the batter. (I always leave out the nutmeg, in everything but bechamel. I don't like it in anything else.) The doughnuts were a little too . . . something. I can't put my finger on it. Almost perfect, though. The concept, in general, worked very nicely!

Been making soups, too. Will tell you about that, too. Thank you again for the inspiration! Still getting everything pinned!

***If you eat as many Mandarin oranges as we do you can simmer the peels with a few cloves and cardamom pods (and some cinnamon sticks, whatever you like) in a bit of water on a back burner throughout the day (don't forget about it; add more water as needed). It makes the house smell really wonderful.

That Second Sleeve comments: 86

Is there a stretchy cast-off that doesn't flare? Lately I have been making stuff that doesn't fit over anyone's head. Paranoid, I'm now stretchy-casting-on and -casting-off, though I find the look of it quite inelegant. Am I right in thinking the wrong side of a Jeny's stretchy cast-on looks better than the "right" side, or did I not turn it properly? And I don't like how the cuff is flaring (on my Bloomsbury Kids sweater, the terra cotta one above, which was inspired by this pin). That's too big, and I went down a needle size, too. If I weren't so lazy I'd start the second sleeve and get it over with. This sweater's construction is pretty rad. There's a lace panel down the center of the back, too. I think everyone says, this but I am so in love with Quince and Co.'s Lark yarn. I used it for the Dogwood Lottie (the pale pink sweater, also above) and it's just so squishy and soft and yummy and bouncy and makes you feel like you could knit all day (and night?). Until you get to the second sleeve, which not only is the second sleeve but also has a lace panel. . . . Bah. I watch Gilmore Girls on Netflix (yippee!) and knit as if in a trance. The lace isn't hard but it's still . . . lace. How awesome is it that a new season of Railroad Alaska starts on Saturday? I'm tempted to re-watch the entire season of Ice Lake Rebels. Now if I could only stay awake past 9:00 p.m., just think how much more knitting and TV-watching I could get in. Alas, now that the cold, dark, rainy nights are here there's so little incentive to stay downstairs and not crawl into my wonderful, lovely bed to wait for Andy to get home from work. At least I've limited myself to one mini-Snickers per night. That's one of the only things I like about Halloween. Mini candy.

Garter stitch is more my night-time speed, and night-knitting is all I have these days. Garter stitch also just . . . what's not to love. Knit knit knit. Then knit knit knit. Then knit knit knit. Etc. That's what I can handle. We've talked about this. When will I learn this? Apparently never. I finished the pom-pom flaps hat (which was inspired by this pin) by actually making and attaching the pom-pom. A couple of people asked me about the pattern that I used, which is in French. I used Danielle's translation, and I'm sorry I didn't put that on my Ravelry page initially. I'm not very good at adding notes to that thing. The hat was knit with Rebecca's gorgeous, gorgeous acacia-dyed alpaca-merino-silk yarn from Camellia Fiber Co. You've gotta be fast to get this stuff before it sells out. Her yarn is such a delectable treat. I spoil myself.

Clover Meadow had a very hard day yesterday. Thunder, pouring rain, and then later, once she had finally settled down, fireworks. The trifecta of canine misery.

Do you like caramelized butternut squash?

I'm on an organizing tear. So far I've gone through all my clothes, all of Amelia's clothes, all of the books in the master bedroom, the living room toys, and I'm about to hit the hats, gloves, and scarves next. I donated a lot of clothes and books. Now I have nothing to wear. I'd like several of these dresses and tunics, particularly this one and this one and this one. But they're too expensive. I went to the fabric store and bought some similar patterns and fabrics. I also got an idea for a gathered calico skirt. Now, I actually have to make the effort to sew. And start the second sleeve. But there's time. There's time now. I'm glad it's October. I feel much more like myself than I ever do in July.

You Are 2 comments: 149

Oh, what a weekend it was. Amelia's little party was truly wonderful. She had such an awesome time, and so did we. Yesterday was her actual birthday, and the three of us drove out along the old highway to Multnomah Falls for lunch, then came home and made lasagna and had cupcakes for dinner. She insisted on wearing her party hat at all times. It was a perfect day (except for the couple of times she snapped the elastic from the hat against her cheek and started bawling). She went to bed an hour or so past her bedtime, and had no nap all day. She is a partier!!!

So many toys, so many beautiful presents from everyone. Andy and I worked on ours for most of the summer — that's turning into such a sweet tradition for us. Andy's mermaid (from this pattern) — it was an epic experience. He worked on it every lunch hour for two months, and pretty much every waking free hour he was home. I tried to help him with a little bit of it and the hook was so small and the yarn so shreddy I seriously thought I was going to scream every time I picked it up. I truly don't know how he did it. He also made her a crocheted Clover doll. He is incredible. The mermaid's name is Ethel Shirley. She'll get her hat and her life-ring for Christmas. :) The doll I got for her was one I'd been coveting for years (from Happy to See You) — major splurge, couldn't resist. I made the beddy-bye-basket from this pattern (more or less, I had to add a lot more rounds because my yarn was thinner), her dress from this pattern, her nightgown from this pattern, and her sweater from here. I made the pillows and mattress and little quilt for the basket just out of some little pieces of fabric and trim that I had. Naturally, she is vaguely indifferent to both of our dolls. Naturally, Andy and I both prop each of our dolls up in front of her several thousand times a day. "I think she likes mine better." "No, she likes mine better." "No, mine." Etc. Her birthday dress and pinafore I made from a 1972 Simplicity pattern, #5277. I used a brown vintage calico I had, and some Liberty Betsy Ann in gray for the pinafore. I have to take pictures of the totally rad play food my sister Susie made for Amelia. It's incredible, and I will find out where she got the patterns, too. She also received some other really excellent presents I will photograph, too.

I had the best time over the past few weeks gathering ideas for her party. The balloon/lantern collection is ubiquitous, but oh boy did it please a two-year-old who went out for a walk with her grandma and came home to find it suddenly and magically floating above the dining-room table on Friday afternoon. That was cool. Andy and I made it together, and it was so much fun to do. Once it was up we decided it needed something distinctly "2"ish. He cut the number out of a thick piece of styrofoam, and then I covered the edges with fabric tape and the front and back with glued-on fabric (I just traced the styrofoam number and cut out the fabric — super easy). Her cake I copied from this adorable cake that I just couldn't get out of my mind (I think I pinned it ages ago). I used this cake recipe and my mom's frosting recipe (I call it Cloudburst Frosting). One of the best parts of the day was the rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday to You" sung by all of us just before she blew out her candles — it really sounded like a chorus to me; it was truly awesome — and she looked around in complete wonder and delight at this big, bustling, beautiful family, fabulously doubled in size with her amazing birthfamily. All love. We are all just so blessed in this. I also loved watching her feed her little deer some coffee out of a wee teacup after the party as we sat quietly together and played and talked. Oh, how I love it all. I absolutely love it. Two. The best two years ever. Darling, wonderful, greatest girl. I love you so.

September Starting comments: 77

The start of the month of new starts! Okay, then!

Days of Sun comments: 73

At the end of a beautiful road lies the ocean. We wind through the fields and the forest while she sleeps. Ryan Adams, cinnamon buns, sunlight flashing through the trees. The road twists through the hills, dipping and bobbing. In the back of the car, quilts and pails, sand and sandals, a striped tent and four bottles of sunscreen. This summer it's been the days in between the days at the water. Our girl grows bigger and braver and more beautiful in each moment, in each summer afternoon, the world opening before her and before me and him through her. It's all new. It's never been seen before, not by me, each moment a marvel to me, this second childhood that is the first childhood I only dreamed of as a child. How blessed we are, how monumentally blessed. She hands me her barrettes, her bunny, her blueberry, her sticks, her stones, her seashell, a coffee stirrer she picks up out of the sand, her eyes as bright and deep blue as the ocean. Thank you, my lovey. Thank you and thank you and thank you, my dear, sweet lovey. For each and every one of these precious and bright and incredibly beautiful little-big things.

Enter: August comments: 63

Suddenly, a scramble: how to fit everything else you want summer to be into four weeks. It's both long and short — I pine for chilly evenings, and feel panicked that the nights are already shorter, the darkness filling the open windows earlier every evening. I would like it both ways, as usual. The calendar fills up in a mad rush, every week, every weekend taken with something scheduled. Concerts, fairs, visits, visitors, vacations, day-trips, reunions, work. The summer's-end scramble.

(We are, I have been meaning to mention, making a whole new batch of 2013's sold-out ornament kits, Night Before Christmas. No new ornaments this year, but we are bringing these back, and they'll be back until they sell out. We are also preparing kits for a duffel coat, sweater, jeans, boots, and scarf outift for all the little animals in the Little Animal Family. More details on this as we get closer to being finished with everything — but I'm expecting the ornament kit to be available mid-September, and the winter clothing kit (and pattern) to be available later in the fall, though if we finish it earlier we'll release them at the same time. All of the older ornament kits are still available in the shop right now, though there are only thirty Walk in the Woods kits left, so that one will probably go soon. I've noticed that the orders on these kits have had a noticeable increase in the past couple of weeks so I wanted to mention this in case you are putting together your CCP [Christmas Crafting Plan].)

I have so much yarn in my life right now it's kind of nuts. I must be dreaming. I finished the Artichaut — it's very jerry-rigged, but somehow turned into something that looks wearable, if a bit droopier than I wanted. I was surprised it came out at all. I immediately set about knitting it again (go fig), but not the seamless version, which I think was the root of my problems. I paired this mauvey version with Violette by Citronille, in Liberty Elysian yellow. I'd like to try this outfit on my darling but that will have to wait until the temperature drops eighty degrees, since it's still about a hundred and fifty out (isn't it? It must be). My Dogwood Lottie is going great. I really like that pattern. And I'm planning a new, lined winter hoodie, probably this one. And then there's this sweet little wooly hug. Maybe longer nights will be a good thing.

***Yes, adorable puppers is Bebe, a three-month-old (can't remember the breed?) Leonberger (thanks, Ann and others!) being puppysat by our friends. Cutest, fluffiest puppers ever!

July comments: 126

Already the plum leaves are starting to fall. The weather this past week has been hot and dry, and next week promises (threatens) more of the same. At the farmer's market the bounty is overwhelming. There is so much, and it is so big and beautiful. In the early morning, Amelia and I go out and water the front. She eats her breakfast in her high chair in the shade and watches me walk around with the hose, soaking everything well, trying to moisturize my little plants even as the morning sun grows hot and bright. She reaches out to touch the water while I shower the impatiens on the porch. When we move to the back yard, she takes cups of water out of her little pool and waters the pots for me. Later, a couple of cups, more water, and some shade are all we really need to be happy in the afternoon, as long as I know that back across town my little house waits, dim and cool and clean, the air conditioner earnestly humming, plenty of chilled cantaloupe and watermelon and blueberries waiting for us in the fridge. Summer baths after the pool, the fountain, the yard, the park, the layers of sunscreen, the raspberry smears; I cover her in suds while she plays with her toy boats and plastic cups, cries a little when the water washes over her face as I rinse her hair, pats at the bubbles, draws on her own round belly with the bath crayons. In the late afternoon, clean and cool and smelling of honey, she naps and I watch TV, the sound turned low, both of us splayed on the chaise lounge, the light dappling and twisting as the hot wind picks up, dusty and buzzing outside but silent to us, behind our closed windows. I like the late afternoon, 4:00 p.m., when it feels so good to go in. When you feel like you've earned it, somehow. It reminds me of the delicious chill of our grandparents' white ranch house, its perfectly, wonderfully, deliciously temperature-controlled interior so beige and soft and soothing after so much flashing sunlight and swimming and cicadas. Summer afternoon: sitting on the soft beige carpet with sunburned legs, watching General Hospital, eating a coconut cookie before dinner, listening to the soft whistle of cold air come out of the floor.

Little Flower comments: 76

I had a day out last week with my dear friend Aimee. We had lunch and then we shopped and then we sat by the fountain downtown and had milkshakes. I came home with a dolly umbrella stroller for Mimi, since she'd been walking off with everyone else's when she sees them at the park. She prefers carrying it around, bringing it onto the sofa, pushing it around without a dolly in it, pushing it around with a rock in it, dragging it both up and down the deck stairs y herself, pushing it on the gravel. It's pretty dang cute to watch her pushing it. Everything she does is just so charming and fascinating to me. Watching her become a little girl, especially this past month, is just . . . I don't even know. I actually just don't even have words. Maybe a couple of little sobs, because it's just so startlingly beautiful to watch someone growing up. Every day has so many beautiful little things in it I hardly know where to start to say.

I made a Suzanne dress out of Liberty Emma and Georgina A (with another kind of Liberty for the insert, but I don't remember the name of that one). The Suzanne that I made a few years ago I couldn't get on her — as designed, the back has no opening, and the bodice is just too tight to get little arms up and under and through armholes. I wound up cutting the back and the insert into two separate pieces and adding an inch extra to each, then creating a 6 or 7 inch opening in the back (just hemmed each side with a 1/4" double-turned hem, and added a couple of snaps on the insert part, to close). It's a pretty invisible fix, really, but makes all the difference. I don't know if the larger sizes have this problem (I made a size 2) but man, it's just such a cute dress. I love the cut and the blossomy effect of the skirt. And so fast and easy and sweet and light. More of them to come.

I got some simply amazing, luscious, soft, light, creamy, wonderful, incredibly gorgeous bulky handspun undyed Alpaca yarn from my beautiful friend Rebekka the other day. I'm thinking there can be no other future for this yarn than cowl. Maybe even mama cowl. . . . Maybe there's even enough for both of us. . . . Oh my word. If it weren't NINETY-SEVEN DEGREES HERE TODAY I would consider knitting. You know how much I love my vent. I would have to leave it to wind up the yarn so I might have to wait. . . .

Before the earth started to scorch in places, I was out on one particularly lovely gray afternoon (those are the lovely ones, as far as I'm concerned) becoming infatuated with my little spray of front-yard flowers. The purples, pinks, and poppies. (The first photo [that's Besaw's restaurant garden], the community garden photo, and the next two after that [the lavender poppies] are not my flowers, but all the ones after it are from our yard.) If I can figure out a way to capture the effervescence of this little garden in embroidery, oh but I would like to try. It's such a sweet little spot! Those seeds worked. (Well, they worked in the sunny places. In the shady places, not so much.) But the sunny spots — they're spotted with blossoms, and they are bringing me great joy.

***Here's how we make our shrimp bowls.

One a Day comments: 108

Cooking, cooking. Once I started I just . . . kept going. For Midsummer Day we made the same breakfast we'd made for Father's Day (because that was good), and then I made a strawberry shortcake for dessert after dinner. I didn't split it in half the way the directions say to because I didn't have enough strawberries, so I just buttered the thing and piled the berries on. But this shortcake recipe is good, and I've had it so long I don't even know where I got it originally.

Shortcake

2 c. flour
2 T. sugar
1 T. baking powder
1/2 t. salt
1/2 c. cold butter, cubed
1 beaten egg
2/3 c. half-and-half

Preheat oven to 450 degrees F. In mixing bowl, stir together flour, sugar, baking powder, and salt. Cut the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Combine the egg and half-and-half, and add all at once to the dry ingredients, stirring with fork just to moisten. Spread dough in a buttered 8" round cake pan, building up the edges a bit. Bake for 15-18 minutes. Remove from pan and cool slightly. Slice cake horizontally and spread butter on inside layer. Add sweetened strawberries and whipped cream.

Cooking: I have a plan, now. I don't know why I didn't think of it earlier, but suddenly I remembered my old friend: Apples for Jam. This cookbook . . . oh, I fell for it hard. I've fallen for all of the Tessa Kiros cookbooks that I have, actually, but this one, for me, turns out to have been the most cookable. This is the one that is full of family food; the one with the gorgeous, evocative photography of bowls of soup and children's playthings; the one with the sweet, memory-laden, slightly windy creative writing (well, they all have that, but this one is about kid stuff); the one that helped me become a mother before I became a mother. It feels familiar and friendly and also like the greatest privilege to be reading it now, making food as I do every day for my child, who is still, at this point at least, eating everything I serve to her  (until she is full and begins flinging it to the floor, and then hanging over the side of her high chair to watch the dog eat my fresh mozzarella . . . the meatballs that took me all afternoon . . . the fish that cost $8.99/lb., etc., while saying in her most I-am-adorable! voice, "Uuuuh-oh! Uh-oh Mommy!!! Uh-oh Mommy!!!" Pointing at the floor, dog licking franctically).

So Sunday I made the spaghetti and meatballs, and yesterday I made the fish parcels (with cod) and the lemon rice pudding with roasted (white) peaches, all from the book. It was all really good, though next time I'll use breadcrumbs and an egg in the meatballs (her recipe called for milk-soaked white bread, and I think that bread crumbs make more tender meatballs — I like them really soft and mushy, myself). Oh, and all of the brown sugar slid off my peaches and burned on the bottom of the pan, but oh well. Still lovely and fragrant (I used a vanilla bean and Meyer lemon and grated the nutmeg) good. I'm enjoying myself a lot, cooking, but wow, it is a LOT of work to cook this way with a one-year-old who no longer wants to sit still for any length of time. I'm trying to do as much as I can early in the day, or during naptime, but still, some things can't be done until dinnertime, and pre-dinnertime is still (and rather suddenly) proving to be kind of insane. I used to be able to have her in her high chair hanging out with me in the kitchen while I cooked, and lately she is not into it. She wants to — you know it! — go 'SIDE. AND NOW!

So, after yesterday I decided that I'm only cooking one thing a day, on these weekdays. Everything else must require nothing more than chopping up (cantaloupe, strawberries, steamed carrots, spinach, green salad, etc.) or come from the deli case at New Seasons (beet salad, caprese salad with those little mozzy balls, yum) in order for it to go on my table. I mean, that just makes sense anyway. I'm not sure why this is a Major Revelation but that just shows you how complicated I've been making everything.

Just as I got to the colorwork part of the light blue Fimma, I put it down. It suddenly felt too daunting in these evenings lazy, light-filled evenings. It's in hibernation. I started a pale pink Lottie cardigan, and I'm loving it. Easy-peasy and relaxing. Sometimes I think I should just forget anything that's not in garter stitch. When life gets a little hectic my GSB (Garter Stitch Barometer) alarms, and I must knit, robotlike, and then turn and knit again, and then turn and knit again (occasionally increasing at well-marked spots) and feel my breathing slow a bit. . . .

And two people — Erica, a long time ago, and recently Ms. Bibliosophy — suggested the Kristin Lavransdatter trilogy. Medieval Norway!!! I got the first book (The Wreath) and can't put it down. Thank you very much for the recommendation!

Oh, and by the way, I've been meaning to say this if I didn't before, I watched all of the Restoration Homes on YouTube through my television. There's a way to connect the devices through my TV; I'm really not even sure how to tell you to do it, honestly — the possibility just popped up on mine through TiVo, I think, and so I connected them. The picture quality is pretty bad but for some reason I didn't even care. And thank you also to those of you who have suggested things for further viewing, if possible (though we don't get to watch all of the shows, even on YouTube, here in the U.S.). I need to go back through your comments and check them out. If you feel like leaving a recommendation here (again) so they're all in one place, would you? Thank you!

Midsummer, already. She just turned twenty months old. A whirlwind of energy and emotion and curiosity and joy: Walking, running, yelling, laughing, crying, pointing, "talking," playing, freaking out, pulling it together, snoozing, cuddling, watering, hugging her animals so fiercely, staring at them lovingly and stroking their heads the way I do hers, kissing them throughout the day, or pressing her forehead to theirs and saying, "Mmmmmmmm." Lovable, kissable, squishable, sweet, dearest loving sweetest girl. I'm so proud of her.

P.S. By the way, all of the flowers on the table are from my wildflower cutting garden or my front yard. Very exciting for me!

Warm and Water comments: 72

She would prefer to stay outside at all times. Around four o'clock, the time between (hopefully) nap time and before dinner time, she's lately letting out a plaintive scream: "'SIDE?!?!?!?!?!" and pointing toward either the front door or back door while scrambling to find some shoes/frantically signing "shoes"/jamming shoes on her [wrong] feet. "'SIDE?!?!?! 'SIDE?!?!?!?!" Oh my lord. This is after being outside for most of the day. The desperation and hysteria that follows if 'side is not an option at that moment is profound. The girl loves to be outside. With a bucket of water, a little pan of water, and sticks, stones, and fancy water cups she makes stone soup, and it is sweet.

I'm making stone soup too, just about. At night I've been watching cooking shows (I finished all of the Restoration Homes and I swear I have post-partum. I love that show so much. That is an awesome show.) Cooking shows are my go-to relaxing shows, and I'm trying to get some cooking inspiration. For something other than ice cream and salad rolls. My cooking of real food, for Andy and me at least, is a total fail lately. Amelia is so easy: tons and tons of fresh fruit and steamed vegetables, occasionally cheese, turkey, chicken, beans, tofu. I feel bored with everything I've made before and I'm not even sure what I want to do.

One thing I do want to do is switch out my plain white dishes for thrifted calico dishes. I seem to have inherited my dad's penchant for getting new dishes once a year. I hadn't been to Goodwill in ages but we went this week and it was so much fun. My little collection of dishes and candlesticks and that sweet little stripey dress came from my local GW the other day. I've missed Goodwill. I'm obsessed with the photo of that kitchen (from the book English Decoration: Timeless Inspiration for the Country Home which I just treated myself to recently). Maybe if I make my kitchen a little cuter, and thrift some fancier plates, I'll get my cooking mojo back. It's been gone for so long!

I just heard Andy talking to Amelia while getting her dressed. "And now we're going to pick out something to wear from the drawer. Most likely it will be what's on top." I busted out laughing. So that's how he does it!

Speaking of clothes, I made a skirt out of a pretty purply brown calico. I used the 'Tis the Season skirt in the book Sew What? Skirts: Sixteen Simple Styles You Can Make with Fabulous Fabrics. This book teaches you how to take your own measurements and draft patterns for several different kinds of skirts. The one I made is a full circle skirt on an attached waistband with a side zipper and button. It was super easy (though it takes quite a bit of fabric), but the calculation for the waist cut on the skirt didn't come out correct for me at all. The skirt was way too big for the waistband. It wasn't a big deal to fix, but next time I'm going to be really careful about calculating that (I would take the exact waistband measurement [minus the seam allowances and button overlap], use that as the circumference of the top part of the skirt, calculate for the radius, draw that line on the folded fabric from the top corner, then cut 1/2" inside that line. This won't make sense unless you make the skirt, I wouldn't think. But it should work). Anyway, the finished skirt came out exactly as I wanted it to, and is a total joy to wear — very swishy and comfortable. More to come.

Oh, and thank you for all of your recommendations on hoses! I read through all of your comments before deciding what to do and wouldn't you know it, I decided to try the X-hose after all. So far is has been awesome (though I've only had it a couple of weeks, and it rained for one of them). I detach it after I use it and coil it up in a basket on the porch. It's so small and light that that is completely possible, and about fifty times easier than wrestling the maddening coil of filthy tubing onto its screeching wheel. So far the fittings have worked perfectly and have not leaked, but I have my eagle-eye out for the smallest spout (not that I'll know what to do about it if it does leak, since it's made of weird fabric, etc.). It seemed worth it to try this, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. And I must remember to take pictures of the flowers in the raised beds. They worked — I have wildflowers! — and they are darling.