…at last.
So, we didn’t have a veg patch.
The grapes were ravaged by fungus.
The berries under-produced in the shade.
But the few spontaneously-purchased herbs tossed haphazardly into a bed actually yielded a harvest.
Now, with the larder stocked and the barns filled to capacity, I’m ready for winter.
(Ahem, pinch me, I was having a brief Ma Ingalls moment…)
But a very cheery sight will greet us this winter, a wonderful reminder of summer’s bounty.
…for a good European-style cappuccino.
Misha’s on Patrick Street.
Dodgy premises.
Great coffee.
The best I’ll ever have?
Dunno.
But a good option in Old Town.
And you’ll know why I’m chuffed today!
Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due Introduction:
So, it was Holly’s suggestion to look on the website. Yep, I’d forgotten about it, even after Sara had shown us on her blog more than a year ago what cute products they have! Squee!
Anyway, I opened the package and there was this—
And along with it came this—
And inside of it was this—
And on the back of it was this—
And with many more of these—
Warning, Effusive Gushing Ahead:
I just love this website—a London company who loves to print (so they say)! I just upload my .jpgs, crop ‘em, add the text I want, and they’ll put them on lotsa stuff, including these little mini calling cards. So now I can share some of my favourite blog pics with just about anyone I meet (for a pretty reasonable cost, I must say). Yippee!
Moo.com.
Of course I have no idea what ‘moo’ has to do with anything, but no matter, I’m over the moo-n about it!
I realise it may not have happened like that but still, it gives one pause to think.
Living in the US exposes our family to more US historical references.
Understandably, residing in one of the original colonies acquaints us with early American historical events.
So we hadn’t been here long before Husband-Will purchased HBO’s series on John Adams, based upon David McCullough’s book.
If the depiction is accurate, it reveals just how fragile and vulnerable our country’s fledgling government was.
But that isn’t the only revelation to ponder.
If true, this production brings to light just how valuable an asset Abigail Adams was to her husband’s administration—an original colonial feminist, as it were. Without her, he’d have been doomed to pompous failure. More than an administrative strength, though, she single-handedly seemed to hold the family together during her husband’s lengthy absences.
And that isn’t the only revelation to ponder.
You see, John Adams was a farmer.
A farmer from Massachusetts.
A farmer from the north who wouldn’t have held slaves.
A farmer who traveled extensively across America and Europe during the formation of the country.
Now, with the farmer being gone, who was going to oversee those crops?
Certainly it was stout-hearted-colonial-New England-wife, Abigail.
No motorised tillers.
No convenient pesticides.
No suitably modern tools.
Just fortitude draped in a lot of 18th century skirt.
Amazing.
Such were the revelations to ponder as I bypassed rentable motorised tillers and laid hand to hoe to till our own soil. Trying to tap into my own teeny reserves of stout-hearted colonial-esque fortitude. Giving the now de-grassed earth an initial rugged turn preparing it for spring cultivation. Certainly couldn’t do it in yards of skirted material.
With Daughter-Kate’s help on the shovel, we even managed to lay a simple brick path, reminiscent of colonial days…a small token of appreciation to Mrs. Adams.
If I had only clicked the ‘Mark All Read’ button on Bloglines that day, I wouldn’t be in this predicament.
Norma, how could you? I read your post about pushing out the confines of our comfort zones and inviting comments on what our outside-the-box dreams might be. I read with great interest what other people aspire to and the steps they are taking to turn those hopes into realities. Hang on a minute, what in the world am I doing clicking the ‘post a comment’ button?! I don’t want to share publicly what my secretly-held-ambitions are!
What if it’s silly? What if I’m a complete failure? How humiliating! And yet, I am a fool…charging in where savvy angels would fear to tread.
I want to weave.
(Have I thought this through?)
I want to weave scarves.
(I don’t have a business plan.)
I want to weave scarves that other people want to wear.
(I’m in well over my head here.)
That’s it.
I’m jumping off.
The shop front is under construction.
The warps are being wound.
Whew!
So this Friday photo (which is less of a photo and more of a button, actually) takes up residence in the sidebar.
She knits, she weaves.
I saw it in a toy shop.
Do they still make these?
Warning: Brief Historical Reference Diversion Ahead
“The potholder loom was conceived in the 1930s as a means to use ‘loopers’ in a creative way. Loopers, also known as ‘cut off strips,’ are a waste product of the hosiery industry. Hosiery and sock mills had vast amounts of waste from a piece of the sock tubing that was cut off. Hosiery was made on a Looper Machine, which works much slower than the ‘sewing clip’ used today to make cut off strips or loopers. This is where we get the names ‘looper loom’ and ‘loopers.’ —excerpted from www.historicalfolktoys.com
Warning: Brief Walk Down Memory Lane Diversion Ahead
I remember having one as a child. What kid didn’t? Potholders, made from brightly coloured loops, adorned many a kitchen and were received by many a relative at Christmas during the 1960s. So, you can imagine my delight, as a weaver, to find this simple little tool still being manufactured. I had to have one!
And so it sat in the cupboard until recently when I decided it would be just the tool to sample colour combinations for future weaving work. Why wind a full-blown warp just to see how the colours work together? Aha, this would be much faster, I thought, mentally patting myself on the back!
And then she came, drawn by the aura of the brightly coloured loops. Hardly completing my work, she whisked it out of my hands and disappeared into her room.
Later that same day—
I’m thinking it might be a brightly coloured vintage Christmas this year…
Speaking of Potholders: Family Historical Postscript Bonus—
Great Aunt Sadie worked in an armament factory in Ohio during World War II. Machine parts were packed in white fabric. Being a Great-Depression-Era-thrifty-old-soul, Sadie took these strips of fabric and made potholders of them. Only a few are around today, a favourite family treasure.
Mine aren’t the only hands in the house that are crafting.
Without fail my heart does a quick double step whenever Eleven-Year-Old-Daughter-Kate asks to knit something. You see, she rarely shows interest in fibre. She’s a great knitter, though, for a kid. Sheesh, she’s a great knitter for an adult! But she doesn’t really enjoy it…yet. Give her time, I figure. She’ll come around. (Think my expectations are a wee bit high?) But, autumn must be coming because Kate has asked to knit something.
What I like about her is that she knows what style she likes and doesn’t dither like her mother. Kate isn’t bogged down by typically adult sensibilities. Yarns aren’t the same weight? Does that matter? So, this is what she wants…
…and I like it!
Soft chocolatey chenille partnered with duck egg bouclé in a double strand. Very Andes-Mintish! A simple garter stitch on US15 needles. Think it’ll be a killer scarf!
A very grateful thanks from me for your good knitting wisdom, ‘hang in there’ comments, bits of historical fashion reference, and general common sense!
I’ve looked at the photos for the February Lady Sweater pattern on Ravelry and indeed the other models are buttonhole-on-the-right as Lisa pointed out. Hmmm….never noticed that before, but then again, I never really had occasion to. Guess that’s what abject panic does to a person. So, being indeed left-handed as Rosie pointed out and being accepted as a proxy-knit-in-Oz project by Debs, I will press on.
Next topic to consider as I work the body section, shall I keep the sleeves full bodied or slim them down? I rather fancy the fully-belled look, as that’s what sets this cardy apart. But, guess I ought to do a little research to see how other knitters’ finished work looks before I decide…
Apologies: Lengthy Introduction Ahead
I know it’s Tuesday or Wednesday, depending upon which continent you live on and that would usually mean either gardening or weaving. Admittedly, this is all about knitting, but there’s a voxpop at the end and I need your input!
Time and energy dedicated to knitting have been focused on weaving projects of late. But, there are a couple of projects on the needles. The Liesl-Yarn-Reincarnated-Into-February-Lady-Sweater moves along and I think this ultimately will suit me better. Thought I’d photograph the progress thus far.
Have moved past the sleeve separation.
Can’t wait to use these lovely pewter buttons!
Ehm, hang on.
Something is wrong with this picture.
Why are the button-holes on the other side?
Uh-oh.
Is the photo flipped?
Uhm, nope.
I cannot believe I’m having trouble again.
Crikey!
Why can’t I do a top-down cardigan without it being upside down or wrong side out or backwards?
Argh!
And I don’t fancy ripping it back to the garter to flip it round just to get the button-holes on the proper side!
(Cleansing breath…)
So, can I claim that it’s a left-hand-buttoned cardigan?
Can I claim that it was knit in Australia and button-holes are always reversed in the Southern Hemisphere?
Can I claim that it was meant for a guy I know but turned out too small?
What would you do?
Would you rip it back to make it right or keep on going because this yarn can’t stand too many more froggings!
I’m in a dither, so please let me know what you think!
Canine
The dog is a pain.
Loveable. Cute. But a pain.
He barks at 3:20am with frustrating regularity.
Have I mentioned that I am not a night owl?
He sheds approximately 6 pounds of fur each day (okay, maybe less).
If I weren’t such a hack spinner, I’d have enough yarn for a jumper by tomorrow.
He has contracted giardia and an ear infection, in less than two months.
I’ve spent more money for his meds than for the children…combined…in the past three years.
But with the advent of the dog comes the need for regular walking.
So I’m walking.
With regularity.
And gone are the five or six pounds of transitional stress eating.
Back to normal now.
A few more to shed, but, it’s synergistic and I like that.
Bovine
I don’t understand mathematics in the US.
But I’m not complaining, mind you.
When I purchase six half-gallon cartons of organic milk I receive a voucher for one free carton.
That’s a good deal considering organic milk is pricey.
Last week I had collected two vouchers from previous purchases.
And here’s where I get lost.
I buy six cartons of milk.
I give them my two free milk coupons.
So I’ve paid for four, right?
Not six…four.
But I get another free voucher.
Gotta love this country.
My guilt-gland is sure I’m deceiving someone…somewhere.
Well okay, the guilt doesn’t last that long…
‘Doughnuts!’ the children cried in unison, ‘We want doughnuts!’
I’ve always been a little resistant to making homemade doughnuts.
Not because of the lingering fry smell in the kitchen.
Rather, because I’ve never had a successful batch to give the Kiddies.
Sure, they eat whatever disaster I place before them, providing it has enough sugar in or on it.
But, now that my mixer is running at full speed again, I certainly ought to try, right?
Warning: Another Bit of Motherly-In-Law Wisdom Ahead
MIL-Phyllis, a regular bread baker in her own right, always told me that whenever you find a bread recipe that you like, use it for everything. Once the basic proportions are right, you can alter it a little for different outcomes. So, my basic bread recipe also doubles for pizza crust and cinnamon rolls and dinner rolls…you get the point.
A few other lessons learned along the way…
In Ireland, perpetual damp and cool are a baker’s nemesis.
In perpetually warm and humid Virginia, it’s a baker’ dream.
I don’t have a doughnut cutter, but use a small scone cutter for treats that are a little larger than bite-sized doughnut holes but smaller than traditional doughnuts.
A deep fry thermometer is a must.
Frying at 360 degrees F is the key to doughnuts that aren’t oil soaked (oil too cool) or burnt with an underdone middle (oil too hot).
I decided that I’d double the 2 tablespoons of sugar to 4, sweetening the dough. That ought to be enough, eh? A quick consultation with another recipe shows 1 cup of sugar used. Yikes! Mine are going to taste positively bland, but at least our dentist will thank me.
Compensating for the lack of sugar in the dough, I rummage the cupboards for something besides icing (confectioner’s) sugar to coat them. A bit of canned frosting warmed to a thin glaze and also chocolate chips melted with a little vegetable oil do the trick. Ever-popular sprinkles will no doubt sweeten the deal. Finally, can’t forget the tried-and-true-cinnamon-and-sugar combo.
A Saturday afternoon of baking is quickly rewarded by an empty plate and the cry now becomes, ‘More! We want more!’
