So About that Blog I Have...

Summer here is chaotic at best, insane often, frequently over the top and always unexpected. This one has been no exception. A coyote comes every time I let birds out and eats them, sometimes before my eyes and always before I can react. We did our first slaughter of birds for resale. We've done it twice now and we're getting much better at it. The birds are not like the ones in the store. There's a difference in the meat that you can either handle, or not. I love it. I am working on the new book most of the time and inserting canning tomatoes, chicken killing, coyote watching, seeing family, gardening and life-in-general in the cracks. There are not a lot of cracks. So pictures I think for now, since it's been so long. Knitting...someday! Closer to completion of this book I will start sharing bits of it. I don't like to share while I am in the middle of the thing. It feels not right somehow. I am not sure how. Just not right. So you get life, in brief.

The hawk who harries my birds. One of, I should say. Momma had 2 this year and has managed to keep both alive.

Thud that was. He is now gone. In the end I could not eat him and in spite of my protestations against waste, he went to the coyote or some other wild thing.

Young birds on range with supervision - we've had a coyote here eating birds faster than I can grow them. I spend a lot of time bird-watching, and not the wild ones.

I think I keep chickens just for this. I love to watch them being chickens.

Armageddon. Three supers full of honey, and the extractor due here this week. The honey shall (I hope) be mine!

Beans. I love beans. I have a new (to me) variety this year called Lazy Housewife which seemed right for this year. Good call. Prolific. Stringless. Tasty. What's not to love?!

The tea jug (formerly used for racking wine), just because I like the handle.

Aidan, my Ninja Grandson. No really. He is. He's almost invisible.

 April, granddaughter, non-Ninja, all innocence.

Aidan eats corn. Somewhere there is a picture of him on this same deck eating corn, but he's about 5 years younger.

April looking pensive, or curious, or just young. Or just perfect.
Hope your summer is wonderful!

How can I Blog without any Pictures?

I can't. So I went and took some just for you.
Summer is in full swing here, which means things are insane. The Armageddon hive bees have filled three supers, or nearly filled three supers, so there will be a mid-summer honey harvest very soon. Meanwhile, the baby chickens aren't so much "baby" any more, and some of them will soon find their way into the Featherman Special and others will be laying soon. The Fayoumi and Lakenvelders who are the smallest of the batch were the first to crow and the first to run out the door to the fresh grass once I opened it. They are tiny and indomitable. The bigger birds hang back. I love this about chickens, their personalities and tastes and attitudes. And yes, I will still eat them. Some of them are jerks, which makes it simpler. A tiny cockerel who's flying at your legs and attacking your boots at 6 weeks or age is asking for it, and I can oblige.

This was a couple of weeks ago, their first box of veggie trimmings from the kitchen of New Fortune (my current favorite is the Greenfield Roll - light and perfect for summer!), which they attacked with great relish and vigor, as did their olders and betters

The hens still are a mess. Although two roosters for 32 hens should be within a range that might make life good for the hens, it is apparently not a good ratio for these two particular roosters. They spend a lot of time fighting over hens, and even more time on hens. But the hens put up with it and even encourage it at times, so if nothing else I am respecting the natural behavior of the animal. Chickens reproduce. It's not a glamorous act, but they have a job to do. Candles and wine have no place in the barnyard, unless the farmer and her husband are having dinner on the deck.
The garden is ridiculous, with garlic already in the mudroom waiting to be laid out to cure tonight, green beans already in the freezer and more to come.

We've had more than a few dinners culled from our own garden, which makes me very happy. I lost all berries to chipmunks, moles, and either a fox or a bear, I am not sure which. Whoever it is, they sneak in the night after I say "Tomorrow those will be ready for picking!" The currents and gooseberries just never had fruit, which stunned me. They were so prolific last year. It's an odd year. Not odd and moldy like last year, but odd in new ways. My Bee Balm is tiny, and the roses just never had flowers. But the peach tree wants to topple under the weight of it's offerings and we had our first cherries (4) and first apricots (2). We were very excited. We also have our first hazelberts, maybe 4 or 5 of them. These trees are all young, so any productivity is a shock.
Last night I rode to Northfield's farmers market, since I'd missed my own for a Natalie Merchant concert (a worthwhile event to be certain). I saw Kristin and Julia with their freezer full of lamb (yum!) and the folks from Coyote Hill Farm and Chase Hill Farm and a lady sitting under an umbrella selling raspberries for $3 a pint, and a few other vendors scattered around. I bought a pint of berries, of course. I would have bought them all but that seemed excessive.The Northfield market also has live music and they open the church kitchen and cook up burgers and dogs, or salads, or ice cream by request. It's a longer ride, but a more entertaining experience than the market in my own town. I miss living in Northfield, and I think I would go back in a heartbeat if we could arrange it. I grew up there, I reared my kids there, and I miss it most of the time, in spite of their abject stupidity in removing the last remaining gas station from town.
And I am writing a book. No sweat. Did I mention the part where I neglected to look closely at my calender and managed to not realize I had a deadline in July? Oops. One sneak peek. This is a scarf that will be in the book; the yarn is Lorna's Laces Pearl which I am unbelievably in love with. Love love love. The drape is amazing, it runs through your fingers like butter.

In other news, or in the interim while you want for more scintillating sneak peeks into the new book, I knit a sock for someone else. The pattern is written Toe-Up 2-at-a-Time.

The yarn is Black Bunny Stella, which is sparkly with silver (mmmm) and very, very ballet pink. Super-girlie sock, perfect for farm chores I think.
The yarn came from Dye Dreams for me use to design for their Four Seasons sock club. October shall be my month. I had to choose a color from one of these.

I did, but I am not telling you which yet. You can guess or wonder, as is your wont. More will be revealed.
I bought Very Expensive Firewood.

This is a mushroom log; an oak log that's been drilled in spots and filled with shiitake spore. It has so far produced 3 mushrooms. It's not in it's final home yet, so really I am not expecting a lot. And it was so bloody hot the last couple of weeks I am surprised it's even trying. 98 degrees and mushroom culture are not compatible.It's in a shady spot, but really should be further into the woods I think.
Mostly my life revolves right now around this:

Two bins stuffed full of yarn, stacks of reference books (apparently I was Knitting in the Old Way recently? Or just scrounging sources for percentages on which to base a sweater design, more like) and stitch dictionaries, every circular needle I own and...a wooden hand. Not really sure why that's there. And my remotes, so I can watch things like Shakespeare plays over and over and over while I write and draw and swatch.
There are moments in the process of composing a book that I come to despise it, question my sanity, ponder my future, contemplate a return to nursing and wonder if I just gave back the advance could I be done now? This has happened every time, just as it generally does with patterns. I have adjusted to it and make allowance for it now. In the beginning it scared me. Once the patterns are written and put to bed I can relax again for a while. Until the next book, or next flood of produce or honey or eggs, or the next chicken or human canine crisis.
For now it is errand day, and there are eggs to deliver and dog and cat food to be obtained and chinese food veggie scraps to be retrieved for my starving chickens (not really, but like the dogs they regularly think they are).

Virginia: A Weekend.

In which I reveal just how much of a wine, food, and yarn snob I have become, teach a great group of knitters, and manage to have the best day in spite of sunburn and heatstroke.

This is how much junk a woman writing a book thinks she needs to bring on a working weekend. Go ahead and guess how many of these bags actually were used while we were there.

I know I am going to forget some important things, but I need to get the basics down before I forget! We left home Thursday morning and drove to Front Royal, VA. I had wanted to stop somewhere in PA to spend some time - there are so many roadside attractions and factory tours scattered in Pennsylvania. In the end I narrowed it down to the Utz chip factory in Hanover. I have a thing about factory tours breaking up long drives. They get you up and moving after hours of sitting. You often learn things you did not know. And if you're very lucky, you get a snack thrown in for good measure, like at Cabot and Ben & Jerry's. This was my plan. Drive a lot, stop in Hanover, and finish our journey to Front Royal.

Somewhere along route 81 in Pennsylvania, however, we entered a dangerous time-space vortex. Too-frequent stops combined with heavy traffic resulted in us missing Utz by minutes. This was made up for by the amazing beauty of the Blue Ridge. Truly, I could live here and be happy. We headed on to Front Royal and checked into our hotel, a Hampton Inn. Mister Wonderful loves a good Hampton Inn, and even the not so good ones. This is a good one. We asked at the counter for some ideas on where to get dinner and headed out. We chose the Main Street Mill in downtown Front Royal. What, I thought, could be better than a local restaurant in an old feed mill?

A lot could have been better. The last time we were in this area which was three years ago we ate at Jalisco, a Mexican place in town, and I wish we'd gone back there. The food at the Main Street Mill was indifferent; the sort of standard if a bit unhealthy fare that fills you up and doesn't make you sad. But the smell of cigarette smoke was overwhelming. It carried into the side of the place where smoking is not allowed, and really made the meal unpleasant. You know that feeling when you've been on the road all day, and you're hungry, and the idea of getting back in the car and moving to another location just overwhelms you? That's where I was. So we stayed. I wish we hadn't. I did find a pamphlet describing a walking tour of Front Royal, though, which gave me an idea. I am notorious for early rising when traveling, like the sound of the chickens in my ears is there promptly at 5 even if the birds are miles away. I decided that we should get up early and walk the 2 mile tour before heading to our next destination.
On our way back to the hotel we stopped for adult libations and a bit of a snack and I saw a thing that I haven't seen since Katy's 80's birthday party...which in no way suggests how old Katy is or might be, or may have been.

 Right there in the cooler, a whole shelf of it in a wide range of flavors and everything! Mr. Wonderful chose Corona instead. Good decision. Am I the only person who remembers just haw bad these things are? Like festered fruit punch? Apparently I am.

In the end, I slept a bit more than intended and we walked a bit less. On our slightly altered early morning tour we saw the Millennium Sundial, erected in December 1999.

Notice anything...unusual about this sundial? If you do, please share it in the comments section.
We also saw this really amazing log house.

 Built in 1788, the Petty-Sumption house amazed me in it's longevity. For an old loggie with big thick chinking, that's a long life!

We stopped at the Daily Grind for some coffee (me) and some weird lemon frozen thing (him). Loved this cafe and wanted to move in. They had chairs and tables, some really nice window-seats, tables out side and even a meeting room in back! I did a bit of shopping at the Blue Ridge Hospice Thrift Shop on Main Street. I love thrift shops of all shapes and sizes, and I really love hospice work. In order for them to be there when we need them, they need support. Shopping in their thrift shops is a great way to give them that support and save yourself a dime or two. This shop even has a "man room" with "fishing poles and stuff". Perfect.

Mister Wonderful was not distracted for long by the "man room", so we headed on to our next destination - a visit with Jenn Tepper-Heverly at her lovely home to talk about her amazing Spirit Trail Fiberworks yarns for inclusion in the new book. Dyers have my awe and respect. What they do astounds me. It's not just the color. It's about choosing the base yarn that those colors will inhabit, then choosing the colors, and then - most importantly - replicating those colors over and over again with some level of standardization. I just couldn't do it. But Jenn does and she does it so very beautifully. I cannot say enough about these yarns. The base yarns are just amazing and the color is perfection. Might I particularly enable - I mean, direct your attention to Birte, which must be owned (I am currently swatching it and I am so in love), and also Penelope and Sunna either of  whom I would have an affair with. Dyers are also generous people. You'll find Spirit Trail yarns in the new book, and in another little project I dreamed up on my way home.

Jenn took us to the lovely Gadino Cellars and introduced us to Stephanie and Derek their amazing wines. Well, really Stephanie's parents' wines. Someone, somewhere other than Massachusetts should join their club and tell me all about it! I loved the meritage Imagine, and the Cabernet Sauvignon. I wish Massachusetts allowed shipping of wine. I want to be a Persono Molto Importante. We left the area happy and contented, with wine in the back seat protected from the sun by yarn and water bottles and buried under a mound of suitcase and headed for the coast. I anticipated that we'd arrive in Newport News at around 5:00pm. What I had not anticipated is the desire of locals and tourists to head for the coast for Father's Day weekend. We rolled into our hotel lobby with just enough time for me to brush my hair and teeth in the lobby restroom before heading to Coordinated Colors in Yorktown, Virginia. I'd promised to be on-hand for 7pm for a book signing and I arrived just in time! And look at what greeted me?

A shop sign with my name on it - my very first one! I signed some books and met some great knitters at Sherri's shop, and spent some time petting her adorable chocolate lab DeeDee, and then we headed off for dinner after a very tiring day in the car. I wanted to be well rested for the morning's class.

I got up early the next morning and Mr W dropped me at the shop before heading off to find a good bike ride.This made me a little edgy - love the man but really navigation is not his strong suit, and the temperatures were predicted to be around 100. But look at my distraction (there's more distraction that got cut off on my left and right, but my phone is only so wide!) -

 These were a great group of students. I know I say that a lot, but really they were. We had a good day, I think, and I hope everyone left happy!

Gene arrived promptly at 5pm to pick me up - one thing about traveling with him, there's no hanging around, no dawdle or delay, no chit-chat. He's pretty punctual. I said my good-byes and we headed out to find food. The other thing about traveling with him - I'd had a late lunch, but he'd had a bike ride. Food isn't an option. I "made" him get Thai, which I love and he does not, but dislikes less than Indian which I also love and he does not. (see if you can make sense of that.). He ate it and did not die. I ate it and was happy! We retired to the hotel in Newport News for one last night before heading on to Chincoteague.

The next morning we got up early and headed up toward the island on the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. I love this thing. I think it's the feeling of being sort of in the middle of the ocean but not that I like. And I know it's a bay but it's still cool. And I love the history of it. The entire project, including the expansion from 2 to 4 lanes that opened in 1999, has been done through the sale of revenue bonds. No federal, state or local money has been used. I think that's amazing.

We headed up the Delmarva peninsula and I was sadly reminded that not all chickens get to be spoiled like mine before they are turned into freezer-stuffing. We passed a large Perdue plant. gene commented that he didn't notice a smell. We saw grower houses, the ones with the blinds and the big fans, five or six at a time in rows. A couple were open to the light because the birds had already made their journey to the plant and to the supermarket shelf. We saw this Perdue truck, used for hauling live birds to slaughter, making it's way north, devoid of chickens.

Gene saw some going south fully loaded, but I missed it. I've seen them before and I am glad I missed it. Then we came to the Tyson plant, and oh man the smell. It was awful. I wondered what the locals think - how can you ever get used to that smell? Do you ever get used to it? Or do you discover which Yankee Candle fragrance is best for covering the smell of rotting meat and stock up? Ick. I wanted to come home and hug my chickens.

I was glad to get to the Good Part of this trip. I forgot about the chickens for a while and here's what the next 24 or so hours looked like, more or less:

Bike riding in the Chincoteague National Wildlife Refuge. Or I guess this is bike-stopping-for-a-picture, really. This is midway around the Wildlife Loop. We also rode the Woodland Trail, Beach Access Road to the beach, and the Swan Cove Trail from the Wildlife Loop side out to the beach. All told we rode about 12 miles. It was really hot. There was some cooling off along the way. Nice of God to put the ocean right in the middle of the ride. I appreciated it. Riding in salt water wet gear is really no different than riding in sweaty wet gear, except that for a few minutes you feel a little cooler!

There's a lot of beach. Not as many people as I expected, but this is "just" beach - no dogs, no canteen, no snack bar, no fried clams, no beer, no shops.
For "lunch" we left the refuge and had ice cream at the Island Creamery, then went back to the beach for a while.

I really want to spend a whole week here. A day isn't enough.

We checked into our hotel, and rested and cleaned up, then headed to Bill's Seafood Restaurant for dinner, where I had - in a huge personal rules violation fueled by too much sun and a glass of wine (Layer Cake Shiraz) - surf and turf.

Very yummy. The seafood is local, we were told, sourced from a fisherman in town. I can't believe I ordered this, but man was it good. The tail was huge. Gene ate more than half of the lobster, but when he saw how rare the filet was I lost his attention entirely and had to leave a bunch behind. The thing was still mooing up at me. I have a rare beef problem. Well. Problem is a relative term. We skipped dessert...

On the way back to the hotel we stopped at the Roxy theater where Misty attended the preview of "her" movie in 1961.

I stood in her hoof-prints. I am going to assume she didn't actually sign her name here. We would have seen a movie if it had been of interest - sadly it was the new remake of the karate kid and not really our speed.

I sat (sort of...look, it was a long day. A little schlump is expected)in front of the statue of Misty based on the beautiful illustrations of Wesley Dennis that appear in the original Misty books. By the way if you don't know who Misty is, get thee to a library or Amazon or something, post-haste. Find Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry. Follow that up by procuring every one of her horse-crazy tomes, preferably reading them aloud to some curious, precocious child and see what happens. For added value, throw in some Thornton Burgess, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and a smattering of Howard Roger Garis and watch what happens. If the kid turns into a tree-hugging chicken-farming knitter, don't come crying to me. We walked past the house where Misty of Chincoteague was written, which is lovingly maintained as a B&B. Then we went to sleep!
We got up early the next morning for one last bit of beach before turning my wee wagon northward.

First we navigated through a flock of thoughtless pedestrians who were just all over the place. The moved out of our way and I got a picture of them to share.

 Early morning on Assateague.

A visitor, who landed and really requested that his picture be taken and then....

left us.

Out the window heading onto the reserve.

After a bit of wading and no real dipping (turns out I am too old for diving into the chilly Atlantic ocean that early in the day after all) we headed back to the Hampton Inn and Suites and bid farewell to my buddy on the pier.

I promised him I'd be back. And I will, soon!

Between TNNA and this trip I am worn right out. It's going to take me a few days to recover. I think there will be a lot of napping involved...

TNNA Hangover, In a Good Way.

I have no time to blither endlessly today, so this will be short and sweet (I hope, for your sake and mine too). I am leaving on Thursday very early for Virginia to teach at Coordinated Colors, so my plan today is to just give you the highlights of things I saw in Columbus, fiber related and not, all in one list. Then, when I am back from Virginia maybe I can take a breath and focus a little!

But, here's what I saw and found and think, some with images, some without:

Karen Alfke's unpatterns are brilliant. You need them. Hell, I need them.

I want to spend the rest of my life at North Market, just shopping for amazing cheeses, meats and produce while sampling small spoons of ice cream during shopping breaks, or possibly nibbling on olives or popping some corn and opening a bottle of a really good beer. It's all there (and then some).

If you are in Columbus and need olives, go to North Market and find The Olive Orchard stand. Get some garlic stuffed olives and a bottle of their organic oil. And the best news? They SHIP!

Miriam Felton's (aka brilliant designer of the Icarus shawl) Twist and Knit is going to be amazing also, and you should have that as well. In fact, there may be a few things in this post that you should have. She's also delightful, but that's another story.

Jeni's Ice Cream is pretty amazing. My mouth is still reeling. In the end I think my favorites are Queen City Cayenne, Lime Cardamom Yogurt, the combination of Dark Chocolate with Backyard Mint. Also Mango Lassi. And Cherry Lambic. And Salty Caramel, Wildberry Lavender and...oh you get the picture.

I need one of these Minknitures necklaces, but I cannot decide which color. I am willing to take suggestions. Pavia makes each of these items, pins as well, by hand. I was leaning toward pewter, but the copper appeals as well.

Pho is every bit as good as everyone has said it is. So was the #9 bowl. 

Think Outside the Socks is a FUN book! You need it.

Carol Sulcoski is my stalker, but I am ok with it as long as she keeps offering me her beautifully dyed yarn. Who am I to stop her?

Green Mountain Spinnery has a really beautiful certified organic 100% wool, dyed in Earthues colors by a local dyer. Local Color. This isn't just organic wool. The washing and spinning are organic as well. I love it.

Knitting 24/7 is also a wonderful book. It helps that the author is truly delightful. (Don't worry Carol. A promise is a promise. She's all yours, honest)

It is possible to break a Sassafras watch, but I really had to work at it. I've got the bruises on my wrist to prove it. My watch got hung up in my over-loaded and too-heavy backpack. I am now eyeing the beaded watch, which is smaller and would allow for my stupidity in over-packing my bags.

Save a Kiwi, Knit with Possum. No really. Possum are non-native introduced species doing bad bad things in New Zealand. I do not like non-native pest species. In fact they make me angry. I say, knit the little suckers up.

Steve Elkins can keep an audience entranced even when employees and friends of Webs are taking his picture. Unflappable, I tell you.

Although I never thought of it before, apparently there is gluten in hair and skin products. The ladies of Lavishea have a solution. A gluten-free, all natural lotion bar. I love this bar. And it made it through airport security, no problem. And it comes in a variety of fragrances. I made a list of my favorites.

This didn't fare as well at the airport, although in the end they let me keep it all - two cheeses from Curds and Whey in North market and some quince paste from same. Apparently food gives odd readings on the x-ray thing. Who knew. Let me tell you. That man knows his cheese. And the cheese is SO good. I got a Manchego and I wanted Cambozola, but it had all gone to a restaurant (and I am pretty sure I know which one), so he gave me a Blue de Bresse instead. It is SO good. Mike even vacuum sealed it for me!

I really like Goodale park, a circuit of which is part of a 2 mile loop walk or run from the convention center.
Ohio is flat. I like hills, but I hope I get to go back and see the flat again. If I do, I'll be in the North Market eating Pho and sniffing cheese.
Now. Laundry, errands, write two patterns, re-pack and head for Virginia!