Farm Day at Juniper Moon

I'm spending the day with Brandon and his siblings. Click the photo to see more, or go to Juniper Moon Farm "Farm Blog" for more unbearable cuteness. Disclaimer: This photo was taken by ShepherdSusie, aka Susan, the owner of the farm.

It's been a busy few months, and I vertigo for one of those months (just now recovered, thank you very much) so I'll get to updating this...oh, next week probably!

4.27.2010 Update: We had a great time! I have pictures of goats and lambs leaping and scampering and they are all on the other camera at home because I didn't rush to the computer with the CF card as soon as I got home. I went to bed.

When In Rome...or Greece, if you like

I procrastinated about this post. I've spent the last month thinking about blogging, what it is about, what it does for me, what my blogging might do for others. I have not led a unexamined life. In fact, I'm definitely guilty of over-examining. I don't know when it happened but sometime recently...a few years ago?...I lost my taste for over-examination. For taking stock every damn day of every damn thing. It's exhausting. I have better things to do with my time. I'm evolving into having a simply examined life. Because, let's face it, what is blogging? Examining...in public. A form of exhibitionism. To paraphrase a much-maligned company's(1) catch phrase, What do you want to exhibit today?

(Why yes, today we have footnotes.)

Shall we put this into perspective? When we were smokers, DH and I would spend HOURS on the front porch talking. Smoking and examining, examining and smoking. And then analyzing ourselves and our motives, out friends and their lives and their motives. Almost daily.

We stopped doing so much of that when we stopped smoking. There was a catalyst, eh? And it didn't even hurt.

I should have made an outline to follow because, after stepping away for an hour to wind off some new yarn, have a cuppa Joe, and listen to DH explain the complexities of creating momentum against a soccer ball from within a minimum amount of space (he needed to think out loud to someone)...well, I sort of lost my place. Which is okay because there's a part two to my disjointed thoughts.

I have this friend. Let's call her Maureen. That's her name. No changing names around here to protect the innocent, and she's anything but innocent, ha ha ha. I asked Maureen why she didn't come read my blog very often. Apparently, I talk about fiber and knitting too much, two things she's not at all interested in. Ok. I hate Facebook, which is where she lives HER life, and probably wonders why I don't visit out there so much.

But this is sort of what led to a little recent self-examination; not about blogging per se but more about how we share our lives and at what point do we fall on our collective swords and follow our friends on Facebook and Twitter and their blog and the lot, as opposed to actually communicating with them on a one on one basis. But the question is more basic than that. Do I want to know the outer sheen of Maureen's life, as exposed and exhibited through Facebook where I can see that she has killed three dragons and is sending me a drink, and is going to go to bed now, or do I want to know what's going on in her heart and mind? (Answer: the latter.) I don't know if if you can really KNOW someone through Facebook. I guess it depends on what a person posts, but I dare you to have a long stream of ideas on Facebook. And don't get me started on Twitter. Life encapsulated in under 144 characters at a time. Now we can all submit our own soundbites to the world. Shit.

Lest my friends who use Facebook are offended or get defensive by my little rant: get over it. I am guilty of a little hypocrisy. "We all have our hobbies." I heard Shelley Binder(2) say that at the Hampton Roads Flute Faire yesterday and thought how wonderful a comeback it is and was determined to use it immediately.

Back to things. So here I sat, spinning quietly and thinking about whether I should expand my writing/ranting topics, or just STFU(3) and carry on. And I'm thinking about this fiber that I'm spinning that my friend Ashley gifted me. I don't know how I lucked into a friend as nice as she is but dang, she'd give you the shirt off her back if she thought you could use it. Anyway, she gave me this Superwash Merino top that she didn't care to work with. I think we have different spinning styles, her and I, so for me this was a nice, nice fiber to work with. I spun three bobbins of singles that I started plying as a sock/fingering weight 3-ply. I just wound off, a few paragraphs ago, the first 258 yards of this beautiful plied yarn.

Merino: wool from Merino sheep, very soft, not exactly cashmere but probably the most affordable of the yummy soft wools on the market.)
Superwash, or SW: a process that somehow changes the quality of the wool in such a way as to allow it to be machine washed. If you have something that is "machine washable wool" it's almost certainly been processed by what we fiber fanatics call "superwash." As a knitter there are minor trade-offs to using SW, as in: it doesn't felt so don't use it for felting projects, and don't expect to be able to join broken ends with spit.

Top: "Top" is the result of a fiber preparation that uses combs, very sharp spiky combs, to separate long yummy fibers from short not-as-yummy fibers from shorn wool. You've heard that "long-stapled cotton" is super soft. Long staples, or fibers, are soft no matter what the fiber. A basket of natural ivory colored wool top looks a little like someone's guts if they were fluffy and ivory-colored. I'm really not kidding.

And no kidding, I'm thinking about all this, including those definitions, as I'm spinning because my mind just...you know...wanders. Not unlike this blog post. It's quiet, I'm NOT listening to the radio, DH is somewhere (doing robotics or across the room working at the computeror in the kitchen), and the only sound is the occasional screech of a YouTube video, the hum of his laptop fan, and the constant quiet swoosh of my spinning wheel. It's unbelievably pleasant.

And finally, after three bobbins of singles, I realized that spinning and knitting is such a big part of who I am right now that it would be insane for me not to talk about it. So is making jewelry and so is writing in this format. So is playing the flute, my very longest running habit. Every few years the primary focus of my obsessions changes but for now: fiber, flutes, silver, writing, pretty much in that order. There it is. For awhile, none of them had any prominence but I finally learned that taking care of myself meant engaging in these activities because they make me happy.

At the end of the day, isn't that what's important? Know thyself.


Footnotes

(1) no, not Toyota. Microsoft. Gosh, do they even still use it?
(2) Shelley Binder, PhD, University of Tennessee, flutist, recitalist,clinician; attended her master class at HRFF.
(3) "shut the fuck up"

It's...so...white...

All that snow the forecasters have been suggesting we might get here in SE Virginia? We're getting it this time. Every time I look out the window, which has been frequently over the past few hours, I'm struck by how very white it is. And really it's more like shades of gray, but my brain goes "whoa, white." This is a stay-home-and-not-feel-guilty-about-doing-absolutely-nothing kind of Saturday. Nothing, that is, except for knitting, spinning, computing, blogging, drawing beads on little pieces of sterling wire, charging our respective portable media devices, watching movies, making soup, napping, reading, and paying the neighbor kids to shovel the walk every six hours so the mailman has a route to the mailbox up on the porch. $2 per boy (three boys) plus a cup of hot chocolate. Such a deal.

Through the back door to the back yard. The first view of the snow the dogs had.

I must tell you that the Camellia on the left looks like it's slightly taller than the Camellia in the center, but it really reaches as high up as the 2nd-story eve of the house behind it, and for perspective the fence there is about four feet tall.

The view from the front porch, and I admit that my first thought when I saw this car motoring along without it's lights on was "you dumb-ass, why are you out driving in this weather?"

View from the back porch to the back yard.

My cast iron rooster bell. I bought this years ago in New Mexico at a junktique store and I have a fondness for it whose origin is unknown and I can't shake. We took it down from it's post when the porch was rebuilt and haven't put it back up yet. The photo isn't turned the wrong way; the rooster is lying on the porch rail.

Them's the photos for now. More to come if I can find my boots to go wandering around the neighborhood.

Soupy Sunday

Not only the weather but in the kitchen, too. There's only one thing better than tomato soup and artisan bread for lunch on a blustery winter day. Today certainly qualifies as blustery. Windy, rainy, gray, and cool. I can't say cold because it's in the mid-50's.

What one thing is better, you ask? Homemade tomato soup and homemade artisan bread. And I haven't taken food pictures in a while. It is time.


I've really Martha'd myself. No, wait, to do that I'd have had to grow the tomatoes and sow the wheat. Never mind. I think I could probably do both these recipes in my sleep. I've made the tomato soup two or three times and it is simple. On the America's test Kitchen website, it's the "Creamy Creamless Tomato Soup."

The bread was even simpler, ingredient-wise, but sneaky. I tossed the first batch because it never rose. I'm almost certain that my yeast was old and dead. The second batch didn't rise as much as I'd hoped, but both times I felt the dough was just a teensy weensy bit too dry. The second batch rose (enough) after I let it sit overnight so I baked it this morning. Hmmmmm...the smell of fresh baked bread in the morning? There's no word for it, just a sound of drool.

Let's be clear: I do not have a professional oven with steam injection. My oven runs 100 degrees too hot, is a piece of crap, and I got this result anyway. It tastes as good as it looks. I started another one tonight. I can do this from memory. Well, mainly because I've prepared three in the last three days. A scale is very handy, and I added an ounce more water because I am convinced that the house is so dry the flour just needs that extra bit. Unlike the summer, Virginia does not have a high humidity problem and, because we have forced air everything, our abode is pretty dry. Nor-easter's not withstanding.

Both recipes (and the one for the croutons) are from the guys at America's Test Kitchen, aka Cook's Illustrated aka Cook's Country. I don't get what the difference is but the food is so good that I don't care. The soup is a little involved. It helps justify what we spend on kitchen equipment. In this case, dutch oven and blender. We simplified by using the stick blender which does a perfectly adequate job of whizzing the soup into smooth tomato-y perfection. I can't recommend the KitchenAid stick blender highly enough. There's a place for blenders, and a place for sticks. This recipe suggests using a blender, but using the stick leaves you with fewer dishes to clean, and I don't think it took any more time to get achieve soup smoothie.

Canned whole tomatoes (shocking, I know), white bread, onion, garlic, bay leaf, red pepper flakes, brown sugar (just a tiny bit), olive oil, chicken stock. That's it. We've used plain canned tomatoes, we've used tomatoes canned from a friends garden, and we've used a combination of canned whole and diced tomatoes. Someone had a hankering and we had what we had in the pantry. All of them were fine. In fact, in the first version all I had on hand were whole toms with basil. I plucked the whole basil leaves out but there was still a tiny bit of basil flavor and it was nice. We've used Pepperidge Farm country white, sourdough bread, and Inn Keeper's Whole Grain bread. I thought the whole grain bread would leave lots of seeds but they got whizzed, too. If you tasted them all side by side you could probably tell the difference, but I think it's probably marginal.

I cut the crusts from the bread thickly and used them for croutons. Toss with oil, season with salt and pepper, bake them at 400 for a few minutes until they look good and golden or dark golden, let them cool, serve with soup.

Almost No-Knead Bread
Creamless Creamy Tomato Soup

This looks like a fun project: Macaroon Knitted Purse

Have some fun

I love this. Siraz: Is it a cheese? or a font? While everyone else is playing Bedazzled, I'll be over here playing this game:

http://cheeseorfont.mogrify.org/

And here's DH in his new extra-long stocking cap in Norview colors to keep you busy in case Cheese or Font is boring...

And then...poof!...there was Christmas

It really really snuck up on me this year. I mean in a way that it has never snuck up on me.

I probably say that every year, come to think of it.

Two Wednesdays ago I said "holy shit, Christmas is a week and a half away. Holy shit!"

Cards: Done, sent.
Gifts: uhm...got some for DH
Shipping: shipping? what shipping?

This is the first Christmas where Patrick isn't here to put up the tree, so I put up two mini-trees side by side on the console behind the sofa. I just couldn't bring myself to do the big one. Could just be laziness. 9 feet of majestic Monterey Spruce, a beautiful thing when it's up. Not as beautiful sitting in it's box in the dining room. It's in a box in the dining room. For the last four or so years, though, it has been Patrick's family duty to bring the tree up from the basement and assemble it. I informed him that he will have to resume this task for all subsequent Christmases. He didn't fight it. Smart kid.

Got fleece?

Ain't it purty? This is all from one sheep - or one type of sheep, Gotland, and the three pounds of gorgeous locks that DH gave me still have a bit of lanolin in them. Tigger's don't like "spinning in the grease," so I have some washing to do, which I started tonight. This group was part of round two. I only have a little colander so I can only do a little at a time. The first round was almost a disaster when I didn't separate the locks. Whadda mess. This time I separated BEFORE soaking and I didn't have to spend 20 minutes afterward teasing them apart. Aren't those colors something? It's even better in person, but this is tedious work to bring them into spinnable format. Soak, soak, rinse, rinse, dry.

Here's the drying stage, tucked into the shower in the spare bathroom. Finally, a use!

I just can't get over the colors and the luster. I don't know whether to separate them or spin 'em all together. I'll need suggestions.

No, I haven't spent my entire vacation spinning and working with fiber.

I trotted out the tools and made earrings and a pendant for Kat using freshwater pearls she had from a broken bracelet. I finished those tonight and thank goodness had a chain for that pendant. I see from this picture I could have done a better job of polishing that pie shape. Too late now! Dime included for scale :)

DH also gave me a share from Juniper Moon Fiber Farm. Funny thing about that...I had purchased a share for myself back in October! So now I have two shares.

Moving right along. We have a new tradition: open all the holiday cards on Christmas Day. Yay, that's actually a lot of fun...watching them stack up then opening them all and looking at photos that family and friends have included...then I hung them on the mantel with the stockings.

The guitar necks are from Rock Band, which we all played Christmas Eve. I played drums. It was hysterical, especially because we didn't have the drum sticks so I used wooden mixing spoons. I'm sure that was a sight. By the way, I suck at drums on Rock Band. So, don't rely on my musicianship to translate. I've got rhythm but you wouldn't know it.

Ok, that's a wrap. Oh. And, go out and rent Inglourious Basterds. If you like Quentin Tarantino, it's a major hoot. It almost resembles a Coen brother's movie. But...not.

Really, there was a Thanksgiving

And I started writing about it. It involved:

• a turkey (not BBQ'd) and the standard trimmings at my SIL's in South Carolina, although there wasn't a traditional pumpkin pie to be found in the lot
• lots of driving
  
• lots of knitting in the car
  
• hot dogs and chips at Maureen & Walt's place in Summerville
• lots of knitting with my nephew
• lots of eating

I had this big ol' other post that was very funny that I just never got around to finishing. So, there it is.

And then there's Christmas.

In What Format Is Our Lettuce?

DH: "in what format is our lettuce?"
The geek in me howled and then with a straight face I replied that the spinach was small form factor and the romaine was tall and cylindrical, and both green. If you don't see the humor, bummer for you.

Sumter Wine Festival
From the events brochure: "Brown will present an exclusive 'real-time' tasting of his famous wines live from his Napa Valley vineyard through Skype technology." Tell me...don't you want to know how he'll use Skype for wine tasting? And why is real-time in quotes? Is it not really real time? Aren't "real time" and "live" supposed to kind of go together?

My 13-yr old nephew has converted the guest room of my sister-in-law's house into a crafting room. Painting, knitting, crocheting...he calls it The Craft Shack. Knitting friends: he has started a small yarn stash and already has blown through one organizing method in favor of another. Oh dear, another yarn junkie in the family. What ever shall I do?

Me, at dinner last night with DH's Naval Academy roomy of 20-odd years ago: "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am a Democrat and I do want a public option." Much heated debate ensued. Thankfully, we didn't discuss religion, or spend too much time on the cost of his Maserati. Bob: I like you anyway!