mazomanie sand + oak barrens fire

mazomanie sand barrens

Earlier this month, there was a fire at the Mazomanie Oak Barrens, likely due to an extended drought that began in the spring. The damage was relatively minor, burning an area less than seven acres in size. While it’s a stark view, the DNR already performs prescribed burns in this area to preserve the health of the prairie. When we visited yesterday, the grass was beginning to grow back.

The path, which didn’t burn, can be seen in a photo that I took of my daughter a few years ago.


september 27




fallen tree

national ice age trail

the fungi among i

the fungi among i

Oh, little journal, I miss you so.

coming soon... weaving antler baskets


mary prepping antler sheds

the basket studio

jen + mary

jen pulling reed

linkage :: week seven

dell creek

On Thursday, I went on a little tour with my daughter, visiting a few state parks and the rural neighborhood where I grew up. The house that my family lived in is on the market again. As a child, there was an attached 175 acres. Now, the house sits on a 0.92-acre plot. How sad.

Still, I tromped about at the creek and found that I’m still creeped out by the little building that sits near the bridge.

  • Hawaiian Flowers — I’m a little taken with this crochet pattern. I have not tried it yet, but I would definitely like to in the future. So much good stuff to crochet, but only so much time… and moola to buy yarn.
  • Ojo de dios — Translated as “God’s Eye”, I find this simple yet lovely wall hanging to be perfect. For my space, I can’t hang a lot on the walls or it looks cluttered, and not in the good cluttered way, but in the “Is your house on drugs or just white trash?” way. So, when I get a bit more renovation work done, I may revisit this idea and make one for myself. (Edited to add: I am taking an antler basket weaving class next month, and I just realized that this is probably the basic weave for that ribbed style. Win, win.)
  • Lasagna Bolognese — I don’t know why I do this to myself… create these linkage posts when I’m hungry. So, I’m not talking about this recipe and how although I’m not a big lasagna fan, I’ve been thinking about this version for nearly a week.
  • A Whiter Shade of Pale — I don’t have anything to say because this palette leaves me speechless.
  • What Size Am I? — I haven’t tested out the interactive formula by shopping from any of the suggested stores (for my measurements), but this is still fun, regardless of whether it lends to my clothes shopping experience. (It probably won’t.) The calculator is HERE.


private property

toward the calling


ski hi road

the funny thing about monkeys


Last week, during an outing with a friend and my daughter, we stopped by a favorite toy store. While there I spotted a sheet of mini puffy monkey stickers, and my husband just happens to love monkeys.

When I got home, I began putting them on his things, but in obscure places.

After he came home from work, I sang to him, to the tune of an old Sesame Street song, “Some of your things are not like they once were. Some of your things are kinda the same. Can you guess which things are not like they once were?” He went slightly insane for about a day while he tried to figure it out. Then, he began finding monkeys. Everywhere. He just called to tell me that he found one and, while on the phone, he discovered another. I have about 30 left to hide.

It’s the little things, isn’t it?!

random traffic in the woods

hanging out at their home

hear me roar

at home


final curtain

schatzie or 'tis the season


This is just a little October 2011 rerub of the unmasked video that I’ve made with my daughter. The music came off of an old 45 that we picked up, “Schatzie” by Bernie Roberts. Polka and masks… that’s my kind of party.

the hills are alive

 where they dwell

I generally purchase my Wisconsin State Parks sticker in January, at the park ranger office on North Shore Drive in Devil’s Lake State Park, while rolling through on my way toward the frozen lake to check on the ice shanties.

This year, I bought it in September.

The ranger suggested a day pass, thinking that might be more suited to someone looking to purchase a year-long park sticker at the beginning of autumn. I told him “no”, that I usually “buy my sticker in January” but “things happen.” We have now been to that particular park three times inside of two weeks. We are thinking of going three times next week just because the leaves are turning so fast. One windy day and everything dry will be gone. I’ve seen it happen before, where the leaves begin to change color and then a good storm comes along, taking much of that year’s brilliant display.

I wondered, driving home today, if the trees were screaming, not in pain, but in an exuberant fury over the upcoming winter’s nap. Or already planning their unfurling upon waking up?

The changing landscape causes a bit of odd melancholy, but it isn’t the shift in color. It is the stretch of years.



front porch

south lake road