Really

Okay, so I am Really Boring right now . . . it's just the Taking The Picture, Uploading It and Posting that is making me Boring. I did spend about 11 hours on 1 skein of yarn this weekend. I determined that I am NOT "Smarter Than a 5th Grader" as a 5th Grader would have CUT the yarn and put the wonkiness in the gahhrbahhhge. Really.

Then I was feeling guilty about not knitting on This One Particular Project and This Project and This Other Project, so I dug all of those out. They are now considered In Queue. That's IQ.

Does that count towards being Smarter Than a 5th Grader? Really, it should.

Dresses

I went to a "garage" sale with My Mom last week when we were visiting her. The sale is at the assisted living homes of wonderful individuals . . . they sell plants and breads and their old stuff. They donate the money to local agencies, so any money you spend goes to good causes.

I checked out the blankets and the jewelry and the kitchen-ey items. Then I found these:

They were made in Duluth, MN by a company called Minnesota Woolen. The label says "Fashion Wagon" (and has a small picture of a wagon). The fiber content is 50% cotton/50% polyester. Perfect wash and wear for summer. Oh, and they fit quite nicely. Sens shape.

Red Socks

I was just off reading Lene's blog (Dances With Wool) as I have not read her for awhile and wanted a nice summer morning treat . . .

She's so smart. She said this:

"I love these red socks. I truly believe that red socks make steps lighter, longer and happier; they bring out strength and good spirits and smile on your feet. The one wearing red socks never drags his feet."

about her red Monkey's she crafted.

I just need to weigh in . . . I am working on brown socks. It does not make me feel like Lene about the red socks.

Gratefully, I have red socks. Whew. Maybe one cannot have too many red socks?

Pizza on The Farm

When we arrived at Pizza on The Farm, there were people sitting in the yard space on the ground, in self-brought chairs and chatting up a slight talk-roar. If you do not like sitting and eating on the ground with a lot of people--maybe not your thing.

There is this guy:

I think he does the making of the pizzas and brings them out to the wood-fire brick oven. I think he actually does the running. He was hard to "catch" with my camera.

After we ordered our pizza, we walked around and tried to decide on a spot to sit. My friends tried to get this table after these people were done, but it was actually THEIR table. They brought it with. When they were done eating pizza, they loaded it back into their truck.











Then, I saw this basket.
And this young woman, just carrying it like she was USING it--the most fabulous old white-painted basket--probably a really a good one for toting knitting. So, I "kineered" * her and her friend. I did feel a bit creepy about kineering them, so I did go up and talk to them. I complimented them on the basket, and we got on chatting.

The taller young woman with the dark hair is an Independent Farmer in Maine. Their story had many twists and turns that made us good friends in a very short time. It turned out that they had just been to Grand Marais, MN and took Boat Building Class at North House Folk School. I assumed that they built a boat. Then, they were on their way to Seed Savers in Decorah, IA. They asked what I was doing at Pizza on the Farm and of course, I had to tell them I was retreating with friends from last-year's Norway/Sweden trip. They looked at each other and laughed. They were JUST talking about going there. To Norway. To see boats. Then I put up that while they were in Decorah, they could not miss Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. It has a big Norwegian boat.

* "kineered" or "kineering" is a Yarn Harlot term (and my loose use) for sneaking a photo of someone/thing, I think. I might be mis-using the term (and possibly mis-spelling it), but I'm using it and doing it a lot lately.

Retreating

This week, some wonderful friends and I drove to Stockholm (you can guess not the SE one now because we DROVE there). We had rented a "B" (not a B-n-B because there was no Breakfast, just Bed). On Tuesday, we had plans to visit Gwen, a notable antiques dealer, then go for Pizza at The Farm.

When we got to The B, we ate lunch and knit on the front stoop.





After eating, we went for a visit to Gwen's. She gave us a garden tour, a house tour, a visit to her shop and a tour of her delightful treats. There were these little shaved carrot and olive open-faced sandwiches with walnuts that we all decided was Our New Favorite Thing (along with the Cocoa Mint Cookies). We got the recipe for the cookies from Gwen and will make them for the rest of our lives as they are just wonderful. Just like she is.

After shopping and eating, we went to The Farm (A to Z Produce at N2956 Anker Lane, Stockholm, WI 54769) for pizza (review here). This is a phenomenon, I think. Or a cult following, possibly. We arrived and parked. TONS of cars were parked everywhere and it was out in The Middle of Nowhere. No signs. Nothing to tell you that The Best Pizza is there. It looked kindof like a country auction. The pizza is served only on Tuesday nights. It's BYO Everything (i.e., ground cloth, napkins, beverages, forks, plates, picnic table--more on that later, etc.).

We walked towards the action. It was not far to walk, I think because we knew there was goodness slightly ahead.

Today

In my neighborhood, we stay inside for the most part, all winter. Then, when Spring comes, we usually start outside slowly--greeting each other across the back fence, walking across the street to say hello, etc. We start to grill out and we enjoy summer smells. The garden needs weeding. Baby ducks hatch. The Ice Cream Truck starts to sing each night.

This year, we all came screeching out of our houses, calling each other on the phone from house to house, talking and walking over to each other's homes. E-mailing each other.

My Go-to-Guy neighbor developed neuroblastoma and is currently in Children's Hospital. He mows my lawn and helps me unload my car when My Husband is not home. I joke with him that if his parents don't want him anymore, he can come live with us. Then we joke about who has what at each other's house. His parents keep winning.

As far as neighbors go, we all want to support the family in any way that we can.

Shortly after this news, My Husband was home one afternoon and saw the local 911 response team at one of my other neighbor's home. He went over to their house and witnessed one of My Sweet Baby Neighbors having a seizure. She is in the same hospital as Go-to-Guy.

Again, we all want to support this family, too. In any way that we can.

There was a benefit for Go-to-Guy neighbor today. Pet grooming, hot dogs and a car wash.

And all of the kindnesses of people that you can imagine.

We are hearing of Sweet Baby's improvements. She has Influenza Type A. They know what to do.

It was knitting time as much as possible today. In between knitting and helping times, it was time for praying. Talk about multitasking.

Dirty

I am so dirty. I have sweat on every body part. I have soil on all those places as well. Really, I mean soil as in earth dirt from the garden. After being wet and rained on for day after day after day, it is exhuberating to be in the garden and digging and pulling and digging.

Ohmygosh, I forgot what it was like to sweat and get dirt all over me.

We planted tomatoes and onions and four different basils and some spinach and some tomatoes (Did I say that again, well it's worth it) and some cucs. That is the vegetable section. My passion is pulling crab grass. That is right next to knitting socks on the list of Most Favorite Things To Do When I Get To Do What I Want To Do. It would look like this:

Most Favorite Things To Do
When I Get To Do What I Want To Do

1. Knit socks.
2. Pull crab grass.
3. Think about knitting socks.
4. Think about pulling crab grass.
5. Read.
6. Read books about knitting and cooking garden goods.
   

Well, it is sunny and I am not wet and rained on, except for the sweat part that I told you about.

Pee Ess: I have been hunkered in teaching suburban elementary school students and trying not to listen when they want to tell me how many days to the last day of school. I usually just keep teaching until somebody tells me it's time to go home for the summer. It's been fine that it's been raining.