It’s a bitter day out there. The wind is whipping. The sun is even intermittently hiding. My dogs steadfastly refuse to go outside and are equally unanimous in that the beautiful color coordinated tartan fleece jackets I got them make them all look like dorks. Stogie seems to lose his ability to move in his and starts to moan. Shmoo hides and hangs her head in shame. The girls are blind, so don’t experience quite the same level of mortification, but the point is made. I’m supposed to be hooking and writing out a new knitting pattern, but I’d rather be baking, and I really want to see high tide. I forced us all out of our comfort zones — they into their plaid, me into my oompa-loompa coat that I can’t move my arms in, and marched us into the cold.
It is that time of year when we are busy preserving our and our local farm’s abundance. There are pestos and sauces and most especially this year apples. And apples and apples and apples. Then there are more apples. We are making chutneys, and crisps, and pies, and applesauce, and drying them in droves. Never one to let me down, Dave has risen to the occasion and has engineered an ingenious apple corer. Click below to see it in action!
As you know, I’m prone to a vintage bent. And it extends beyond “things” to the world and family Dave and I create. Case in point: this week we are celebrating a very happy Gotcha Day anniversary of our sweet Zoey. Three years ago our home was enriched by the arrival of Zoey and her sister Maggie. They came to us with the help of a Tennessee rescue I volunteer with and at the time they were 11 (Maggie) and 13 (Zoey). They were elderly with numerous health issues. We thought they would be our summer dogs. While our Maggie died at 14+ just this Easter and our 16+ Zoey is fading, we never would have thought we’d be blessed with the joy and wonder these dogs brought to our lives for so long. It’s been THREE YEARS! Honestly, it is a toss up who loves me more—Dave or Zoey. They are in open competition and are fierce rivals with each other–though they utterly adore each other, too. I’m flattered to be the subject of their affections. And I’m honored to have have known both Maggie and Zoey and to have ensured that their final years were ones that were comfortable and well loved. If you’ve ever considered taking in an elderly pet of any ilk to your home, all I can say is that the rewards will leave you speechless.
Far too much enthusiasm for Saturday morning at 6:am. I’d rather be snuggled in bed with my cute boy and ancient dog, but my internal clock decided to “up and at ’em” at 5:23 am. I guess I’m just an overachiever. Lol.
My newest project, which is sucking much of my brain power, is a complete remake of my website. The goals are to improve the shopping experience with the help of Woocommerce and to become a visual wonderland for all things fiber, vintage, primitive, handmade, and probably cookies. Yes. Cookies. I actually rarely eat sweets (I’m still very likable!) but Dave needs his afternoon snacks. I consider it my duty to provide sustenance for his creative energies.
I’ve always had a fascination with antique hit or miss rugs and have always wanted to try my hand at making one. I just never seemed to be abe to get past my mental road block to find just the right inspiration to get things going. Finally, after what must have been my ten thousandth google image search, I spied inspiration in the form of a spiral. This was a hit or miss style I hadn’t seen before. Armed with a plan and an alarmingly large pile of worms left over from other hooking projects, I set myself to the task.
My work progressed quickly and grew addictive. No sooner than I had finished one piece, I was off and running to the next. I’m teaming with ideas for color combinations and backgrounds.
The second spiral was meant to be a larger version of my first but with a pale background instead. When I finished the circle, however, I thought it might have greater impact simply as a round. And then I had my best idea all day and asked Dave to make me a primitve looking door or such that I could mount the finished piece to. I could not be happier with the results.
The Vintage Bazaar is in a mere two weeks, we’ve had family graduations up the wazoo, special orders, commissions, etc., etc. We’ve been delightfully busy. Today I’ve hooked, picked up a Craigslist find, shopped for fabric, and am now tea staying the almost perfect fabric I found to upholster the magnificent bench that Dave’s been building from an antique bed frame. And the day is still young…
I really can’t remember what the context of the conversation was back in our early couplehood, but somehow the question came up about what we would do if we had a fire. Dave replied, “I grab Earnestine and we get the hell out.” I think that may have been when I decided to marry him.
We needed some down time; some time to be together as a family rather than as coworkers and business partners.
I’ve started an intriguing new habit lately. I know you are all shocked to hear that I spend a great deal of time knitting, but a whole new ritual has taken shape. I wake 5:30 or so, stumble to my coffee, and totter back to bed. Then the knitting comes out. Not the buntings on order, mind you. These precious morning knitting sessions are reserved for the projects on tiny needles requiring time and patience and the solitude of either early morning mists or slowly waking rays of rosy sun. The birds wake to the steady click, click, click of my needles and while the sun rises, my knitting slowly but surely descends from my needles.