Monday, August 1, 2016
Recently, I stood outside in the heat and blazing sun with coworkers at a work event, who were all complaining about summer. It's too hot, too humid, the sun is too bright. I don't know what's wrong with those people, because summer is the best. I used to be a fall evangelist, and don't get me wrong, I get excited about beautiful trees and ideal temperatures along with everyone else. But, fall doesn't last that long, and recently has been overrun by millennials drinking pumpkin spice lattes and insisting that leggings are pants.
Standing out on the metro platform in 12 degree weather, I feel like I might actually die. 110 degree heat indexes are no fun either, but still feel bearable if not merely uncomfortable. Being able to think "Hey, I'll go outside," and then 1.5 seconds later being outside, is priceless. Going to pick vegetables for dinner is priceless. Not caring that your toddler is covered in paint because you can just hose her off in the yard later is priceless.
This summer I've started trail running and I'm already dreading going back inside when the snow and ice hit. We've already been to visit sunflower fields, the water park, a friend's pool, and a local festival where Mary was very impressed by the fire station and "the man falling down in the water." (She continues to talk about the dunking tank. "Is he wearing shoes? Did his hair get wet? Is he wearing water pants?")
The garden was built over several weeks this spring, and I've already learned a lot: mainly, even though the plants looks scrawny and far apart to begin with, in a few months they will become a jungle and your friends will start to hate you for forcing so many cucumbers and zucchini on them. Winter is the biggest thing gardening has going for it. It's just long enough for you to forget how much work it is and how bugs will happily destroy all of that work in one night.
As a knitter I have to think half a year ahead, and today I ordered yarn for a super-warm Icelandic sweater. It's hard to imagine that 7 months ago it snowed four feet in one day; but at least I know as I shiver through another winter, 64 pounds of zucchini are looming on the horizon.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Let me sum up: in October we moved from our townhouse to a house on half an acre, adjacent to 47 acres of farmland. The fact that we could move ten minutes away and yet be in another world continues to amaze me. I can see cows and goats just a few miles down the road! Moving consumed most of last fall, and my time has been spent painting and hanging curtains rather than sewing and knitting. I'm also almost finished building a 225 square foot raised bed garden.
Our new house also came with a cat, OC ("other cat"). He showed up one cold February day, pleading to be let inside. As a compromise we let him hang out in the garage in an old heated bed of Kiska's. Then we took him to be neutered at a feral cat clinic, and let him inside to recover. He never left. He had an old wound from another animal attack, which ultimately required cat surgery and weeks of recuperation. So, he's ours now! Kiska isn't thrilled but he's too sweet to release back into the wild.
I've also been working on another side project whenever I feel like it: Simple Living for Practical Humans.
That's the update! Between work, wrangling a small child, dealing with 2 cats, and house projects, it's hard to get photography in there. But I'm still here, still knitting, and will check in when I can.
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