Friday, under a deluge of tomato pulp, it finally came to
me. My day had been worth approximately
$12.53.  Thursday, I had seen a sale on organic canned
tomatoes… $1.79 a can. I did the math in
my head. My mood as well as my weekend
started to slide downhill. I went out to
the garden to see what is still coming, unless we have a frost (do I want one,
don’t I want one) . I felt like slinging
little tomatoes across the field while reciting a ditty similar to the one lovers
recite while picking the petals off daisies (substitute here small tomatoes
from the vine). I checked the freezers.  No way, not one more package can go
there. If I wanted the tomatoes, I’d
have to can them. The freezers are just too
full for more tomatoes. Pesto is on its
way, and apples. I’d rather have apple
pie frozen than bloody tomatoes. By
Saturday, with the rain, and knowing that I had tomatoes splitting out there
(they don’t like to be pelted by the rain) I made an executive decision. I called a friend or two and asked them to
come pick. That helped moderately. It’s sunny this morning. My turn, I know, after the basil and after
the applesauce.

they are pretty, aren’t they?

On other fronts.. I
spun another one ounce bobbin of the bunny crack from Kim and another 4 oz. of
the hairy dark grey llama. The llama, I
Navajo plied. I skeined several bobbins
of Shetland, colored mohair, and masham. (spell check does not like the word ‘skeined’, possibly it doesn’t
exist??)

Bu reminded me that I had promised to take a walk with her
as soon as it cleared. Don’t ask. I know what she’s saying most of the time and
she understands me. The woods were
lush. All the cool weather and last
weeks’ rain has made the moss jewel like.

Mushrooms, all kinds of fungi, have sprouted up everywhere. I was checking to see what soft woods I might
like to have culled out. Building
products have gone up over 30% since the hurricane. If we want to build, it’s a good thing to
do. The pole shed came in around
$300. Not bad, that was the cost of the
metal roofing and the screws, nails, etc. Bu was just checking things out. The cats and I used to hike all the time; nearly everyday. Sometimes we’d go miles. After we began to see the fishers moving in,
we decreased our roaming area to be what we could sort of monitor from the
house.  Bu is the only cat old enough to remember the
walks.

ONE last thing… I
finished the latest Harry Potter book. I
am so glad that I did not peek at the ending. I am so glad no one told me the ending. I probably would have quit reading way before I had finished it, IF I
HAD KNOWN. I really prefer happy
endings.

pps. for those of you who DO know of my pie crust (mis)adventures..  I have now successfully produced not one, BUT TWO, very successful piecrusts, from scratch (Mark’s recipe) and eaten them!

Tivoli was finished a month ago.  When I washed her, I soaked her in the sink and hung her sopping wet across the clothesline for days and days and days…(I know, if I could have just used the washer and spun her gently everything might have gone differently).  I was afraid she’d mildew, or at the least, sour.  Finally, I brought her in and hung her inside for days and days.  Eventually, she dried.  Then the temperatures dropped.  Then they rose.  So did the humidity.  Today, I got her out and took her to town.  She’s comfortable,  was fun to make, and shouldn’t be the only one of her kind in my closet.  Here’s Tivoli..

She’s my kind of gal.  Thanks Grumperina! 
Cotton / rayon yarn I got on a cone.  By the looks of it, I used a little over 600 yds.
knitted on #9 circs
with endless Icord edging on the neck and an Icord bind off at the bottom edge using a #7circ.   (that’s what I had handy)

What do you do when you reach the edge of your world??

    go fishing!!

I picked 1/2 bushel apples, peeled and cut more than half for pie, then bagged and froze ’em.  They’ll be good anytime.  Harry Potter has cut into my knitting time.  So, has Spider Boy.   He’s a fiberholic, competing for time on my spinning wheel and climbing into my lap when I sit down to knit.  Life’s tough, huh?