lapful of wool

It's fall here. Honestly fall. Last night we lit the woodstove for the first time in ages. Really lit it. Not just, for a few hours lit it, but lit it for the night, loading as much wood in as we can to keep it going for the night. This morning the air in the village smelled like woodsmoke and cold. By afternoon it will be warm enough for short sleeved shirts again but right now it's scarves and socks and the fire.

The leaves are turning fast. Up close they still look green but if you look over the hills at a distance you can see they have a yellow and red wash to them. This weekend is the harvest dinner. Apple cider and squash casseroles and mismatched tablecloths and the sun setting behind the mountains. Last year we didn't bring sweaters with us. It was so cold, but too much fun to leave. This year the car will be full of extra sweaters and socks and boots and coats and jugs to bring home extra apple cider in.

Evelyn's sweater, her Christmas sweater, is underway. I love knitting sweaters for her because they fly off the needles. Fast knitting, but still substantial knitting. This year she is getting owlet. I've been wanting to knit it for so long, I kind of want to knit one for myself, in fact. Maybe if I ever get all my alpaca spun up... But not till after Christmas, too much knitting to do for others until then.

Last night was my favorite kind of night. Fire, music, a book - not sure if it's a good book yet or not, but still - and knitting in my lap to keep me warm.

in my head

I'm sure I'm not alone in this, it must be something most, if not all parents face. At least I hope I'm not the only one. I often find that I have an image in my head on how things will play out. Not big things. I'm bot sitting here imagining my children graduating from Harvard (not that I don't think they could go to Harvard) or our family winning the lottery. Little things. Everyday things. A peaceful dinner where we all use good manners and laugh and joke and smile and where Evelyn actually eats without gagging over every bite of green. A drive to Burlington that doesn't include whines about when will we get there or I'm hungry or I'm bored. I'm easy to please, really, I just want peace and happiness.

But the reality is that most of the time things do not turn out like I imagine them in my head. Sure, sometimes they are better, but often things just seem to go pear shaped. Nothing terrible or cataclysmic, just not very smoothly. Let's take the first day of school. That would be today.

We were ready. I mean, we had the backpacks packed, new clothes laid out, snacks in containers, hair washed, nails clipped, gas in the car, alarm clock set. It should have been easy. It wasn't. Briton woke up so far on the wrong side of the bed that he should have fallen off. Everyone needed to use the bathroom at the same time causing a bottleneck that led to breakfast being late. And then someone (hint, it was the person who woke up grumpy) didn't want pancakes with sprinkles. He wanted a ham sandwich. And the fact that we didn't have ham caused yet another whirlwind of grumps.

Eventually, a little bit on the late side but still with plenty of time to get to school, we piled into the car and headed out, only to find the road closed (who closes a main road into town on the first day of school?) So the long way it was, pulling in two minutes late, where they had to leap out of the car without much of a goodbye. No walking them to their classroom, no hugs, just a "go! go! go!" The only consolation was a blown kiss from Evie and a comment from Briton as we pulled into the parking lot that he would try to have a "less complainy day tomorrow." (thank goodness for that).

No real drama. But just not...right. You know? What can be done? We could get up earlier, go to bed earlier, put the kids to bed in their clothes for the next day? Something would, inevitably, still go awry. That's just the way of the world,  I think sometimes I set myself up for failure by expecting moments like that to be normal when, really, life with kids is never normal. Life period is never normal. So, deep breath. Let it go. Expect the chaos, right?

And as it says in the greatest book of all time, "tomorrow is a new day, with no mistakes in it."

But I think I'll leave early tomorrow. Just in case the gods of road construction are still against me.

out my window

Last week, while hunting for an errant chicken lost in the woods (I didn't find her but she came back two days later, I kind of wonder what she was doing to stay alive out there) I came across one red leaf, laying in the middle of the path by the fairy house. A fall leaf.

Here and there, as we drive from the house to the village and back again, there are signs that fall is coming. At first I thought we had some sick trees around here, that the cool summer and copious rain had fool them somehow. But that only held up when it was just a tree or two. It is daily becoming evident that fall is coming up fast as more and more trees shift from summer green to early fall greeny gold or even red. Last night I sat in our room watching the sun going down over the tree tops and realized that the big beech tree out our window is dappled yellow and green now. If I let my eyes loose focus it all looks green, still summer, but if I really look, I see fall.

In the evenings we pull on sweaters or head upstairs early where it's always a little warmer and yesterday Evelyn wore tights. She was peeling them off by lunchtime, of course, but in the morning, and then again after dinner, there they were. Tights. Sweaters. Hot cups of tea. I love fall. I'm a little surprised at it's early appearence this year, and a little nervous that all those things that need to be done before the real cold comes are no where near done, but still, it's (almost) fall. So I can't complain.

in thanks

We've had a rough few days around here. Not because anything specific is wrong but because sometimes being a parent is just....hard. So it seems like a good day to remember what we are thankful for.

So,

For kids who love you (even when you are so MEAN and make them do homework and...wear pants, and mean things like that). And husbands who keep you sane when you are MEAN and make them wear pants.

For good food and a good house and a good community.

And for wood stoves to keep us warm. And cuddly pets. And new hobbies. And being together. For friends and family.

And for warm boots. Warm boots are good.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

pretty pile

Just in the nick of time, before Sandy dumped buckets on us, turning our little creek into something much more rushing, we got the last two cords of our wood stacked up for the winter. And a pretty stack it is too. In fact, if I were a little but more crazy, I'd say we should re-stack the wood in our shed like that so that we could have two. (But I'm not that little bit more crazy, because that would be...crazy)

The interesting thing about this style of stacking is that, while it seems like it would take longer than your traditional row stack, it's actually pretty darn fast. We stacked most of the two cords in a few hours where last time it took us a couple of days of stacking for the same amount. It could be that we're just getting faster, but I think it's because you really only stack the outside. Some of the directions we read had the inside stacked upright neatly, but others said you can just toss it in, and that's the route we went with.

We started by laying logs that were roughly the same size around in a circle. I stuck an old ski pole in the center and tied a three foot long rope to it so that the circle was pretty close to perfectly round.

Once that was down we stacked the first round, bark down, propped up along that bottom circle so that they are leaning in. This is the trick to the stability of this kind of stack, as long as the logs are tilted in, if they slide or fall a little, they just fall in on themselves, making it more sturdy. When you have a few rounds down, you fill the center up. As I said, we mostly just tossed them in, although we did check now and then to make sure the gaps were filled.

Round and round, with the bark down as much as possible, until the logs are laying flat instead of tilting in.

At this point we added a whole ring similar to that first row because our logs went flat all at the same time, but in some of the pictures I've seen, you just prop up a new row whenever you need to. As we worked up, we brought the sides in just slightly to create a solid dome.  (Sorry for the blurry pictures, it was getting dark at this point. Best I have)

When we got the top (ok, when Will got to the top, I was off at play rehearsal with the kids by then, the bark needs to be up to help shed the rain.

So there you go, just in case you ever need to stack a holzmiete. (Hey, you never know)

over the river and through the fog

On Saturday I woke up early, earlier even than I do on school days when we have to be out the door at 7, and drove through a foggy, misty morning down the length of Vermont and into New York for my first visit to Rhinebeck.

Normally I dislike driving, hate it actually. But driving all by myself through forests and over mountains and past farmhouses with a good book to listen to (we almost never listen to books when we drive as a family as they almost always put Will to sleep - even the exciting ones- and little ears in the backseat limit what exactly you can listen to anyway), well, it was kind of pleasant.

The wool festival was, of course, wonderful, as wool festivals are. I spent most of the day plunging my fingers into different bags of fiber or petting pretty yarns. I visited the sheep (of course!) and threatened Will (via text) to bring this lady home. Look at that face! I went back and forth and back and forth between three different Alpaca fiber stalls, feeling and touching and debating before buying two pounds of lovely charcoal fiber to spin for a sweater. My first attempt at spinning an adult sweaters worth of yarn. I also picked up a sweaters worth of yarn in my favorite greeny green and a half pound of some romney wool fiber that should be named Maleficent, because it looks just like she did in Sleeping Beauty. Black and green and purple and a little yellow. I usually buy my wool in 4 ounce bags for spinning so having the chance to buy it by the pound was delicious.

I also got a chance to see some of my New York Knitting gals, which was a treat, although one couldn't make it because of a family emergency and was very much missed, by my stash as much as by me because she would have convinced me to buy way more, the way good friends do :)

And then, after roast lamb sandwiches and cider donuts and with a (new!) basket full of (new!) fibery treasures and two huge caramel apples for the kids and some super warm socks for my sweet husband who didn't bat an eye when I said I would be driving 10 hours to look at yarn and wool and sheep, I drove home. Back through the colorful trees, back over the mountain, even back through the fog that returned for the last hour of my trip (slightly more stressful in the dark at the end of a long day, I must say)

Now it's time to get spinning. And knitting. And spinning! And KNITTING! Mummmm, a winter's worth of fun ahead.

by the fire

Now that the evenings are coming early, and cold, we've been spending a lot of time curled up around the wood stove, puttering on projects. The kids have taken over the den upstairs in the evening. Coloring, Lego-building, impromptu stuffed animal circuses complete with hand colored tickets and programs and money - in case you want to buy souvenirs, of course. Which leaves downstairs (and the fire) to the grownups.

The chair (which I love) now has a thick, fluffy blanket thrown over it. Perfect for snuggling down under on these cold nights. I'm not the only one who loves it (fancy that) so I generally have to shove kitties and (and sometimes Will) off to the couch, but it's become my go to place for the after dinner hours.

One of our nesting tables is almost permanently next to it now. For tea, and books and scripts for Christmas plays and ereaders and lots of projects. I'm trying my best to pair down my projects, finishing what I've started before I begin something else (which is very, very hard). So right now it's just three that are getting most of my time in those lovely evening hours. Briton's sweater - still not done but getting there.  A pair of socks started long ago for Will which, ahem, got lost in the Virginia to New York move. But that's ok, because it wasn't that cold in New York, it's here he'll really need them anyway. And the beginnings of my first embroidery project. Ornament gifts for friends. If they get done. It's clearly not my forte, but I'm working on it.

How about you? What are you working on during these fall nights?

a view, a memory

One of my favorite memories of high school is of the annual barn dance and cider pressing at the farm of a family we knew. In reality I probably only went to it twice, maybe even once, but somehow it's become an integral moment from my childhood, something that defined what it was like to live where I lived, when I lived there. The long tables in the barn spread with a hodge podge of potluck dishes, everyone eyeing them up, trying to decide which dishes would be best. The women sitting around an old picnic table, quartering apples, then cutting them into smaller chunks, filling the buckets that would be taken by the boys to the big press, bolted to a cement pad in front of the barn. The dads would take turns with the crank, occasionally some of the bigger kids would get in there and try their hand as well. And by the time we were ready to eat, there were jugs and jugs of cider. More than you could possibly drink in one night, although we tried. We drank it cold during dinner and then hot later in the evening, sitting around a big bonfire while people danced in the barn, climbed on the climbing wall, hid in the loft. Babies slept in peoples laps, people sang, stars twinkled. It's a good memory. A perfect moment.

This week there was a note in the school bulletin about a harvest dinner. All welcome. Bring a dish to share and your own plates and utensils. It sounded like fun. Something to fill our Sunday evening.We could stop by for an hour and then come home. In the end, though, we stayed for hours.

East of our little village there is an old schoolhouse that's now a food coop and store. We've been there several times. It's on the way-ish to the lake and has one of the best beer selections in town. Plus it's just a fun place. Behind the schoolhouse is a community garden and the school garden that provides our school with most of it's vegetables (ours is not exactly your average elementary school in many ways, the amazing school lunches being just one of them). And behind the garden, the hills roll away to farmland and mountains beyond. A beautiful view.

People showed up with bags of apples for the press. Crab apples and windfalls and strange little warty green apples. The kids washed them and cranked the chopper and then took turns at the wheel of the press. And then we sat at long tables covered with a mish-mash of tablecloths and ate squash and apple dominated dishes with our fresh cider until it was way past time to take the kids home to bed.

It almost didn't seem real- the view, the setting, the cider, the milling people, the twinkle lights and candles. It looked like something that would be staged for a tourist brochure or a movie. But it was. And it was perfect. One of those nights that is sure to stick in our minds. I hope it does. I hope that twenty years from now our kids will look back and say, "Remember that night? That dinner? Remember running around in the garden? Watching the bees file into their hives? Pressing apples until our fingers were sticky? How good the hot cider was when the sun went down and it got cold? Remember that?" Actually, I hope that twenty years from now we are still going to that Harvest Dinner. But even if we aren't, we have this one. A good memory. A perfect moment.

spilling out

Oh you guys, I was good, I really was, all though Evelyn's sweater. I had two projects on the needles, one small enough to keep in my bag (a handspun wool hat for Briton) and the sweater. And that's it. And then I bound it off, and cast on Briton's and I was still good. Just two projects, cranking along. So I'm not sure how I got to the point where my workbasket is literally spilling over with yarn and all my bags have projects in them and I have both a quilt and embroidered ornaments in progress (this kit - how could I resist?) and yet I still spent a good two hours cruising Ravelry last night because I need to make a sweater for me, and a scarf,  or maybe some mittens, ohhh look at that cape!  I wonder if Evelyn would wear that?

I blame the cold weather. I always want to knit, but when the wood stove is cranking away and it's 35 degrees out there at night, I really really want to knit. I NEED to knit. All the time. Or at least sit with wool in my lap.

So these days I have one, two, THREE hats a going.

And Briton's sweater.

And some mittens with my favorite me-spun yarn.

And some socks that I found half finished in my long lost yarn box (which wasn't lost, but just in storage.

And also I realized I have lots of crazy sock yarn sitting around that needs to be crazy stripy socks, so there's that too.

I can't tell you how many times Will has accidentally sat on, knelt on, or tripped over knitting projects this week. Sock needles are particularly painful to step on I'm told (oops) I'm out of control, and the cold weather has just begun. We may be engulfed in yarn before spring comes. So if we stop responding to calls, my friends, send help, because the yarn probably has us trapped.

Oh, Rhinebeck and the Vermont Wool Festival are both coming up which means....more yarn! Mummmm, I can't wait.

Anyone else feeling the cool weather knitting/project bug hitting?

apple crumble buckle

Something about the crisp weather and the fire and cozy animals made me hungry for something sweet and yummy yesterday. So, after taking stock of what baking supplies I had on hand (only one stick of butter! The horror!) and the big bag of apples in our pantry, I decided to try a buckle.

I've been a lifelong fan of crumbles, and crisps are pretty high up on my list of favorite desserts, but I've never made a buckle. Or maybe I have, I'm not really sure what makes a proper buckle. This one was a mix of several recipes I found when browsing around pinterest, a little bit buckle, a little bit crumble, and so yummy. It tasted like fall.

I had intended to give the kids a slice when they came off the bus but there were too many things to hear about - Briton got to play the symbols in band (please oh please don't send them home with him to practice) A boy in Evie's class keeps saying she has a crush on him but she doesn't, because he likes to burp and she would NEVER have a crush on a boy who likes to burp (which probably rules out most of the under 20's for her, thank goodness), they are choosing lab partners in science, Briton knew almost all of the countries on his geography quiz thanks to a combination of Risk and the Princess Bride ("I even knew Greenland. NO ONE knew Greenland, but I did, because, you know 'Unemployed....In Greenland'") And then it was time for soccer and then baths and then dinner.

But eventually, reheated on top of the wood stove after the kids had gone to bed, we dug in. Will said I should write it down so I don't forget and to not tweak it next time, because he liked it just as it is. So here we go, the apple crumble buckle. No tweaking. Except, maybe next time with some blackberries thrown in?

Apple Crumble Buckle

This makes a pretty small dessert, enough for four medium servings really. I baked it in my smallish casserole pot and it was perfect but I bet you could double it and make a big one for a crowd and it would be just as delicious. The buckle part is not very sweet, which works well with the very sweet crumble. So make sure you take a bite of all the layers at once!

For the buckle:
3/4 cup plus 2 T flour
1 tsp baking powder
dash of salt
1/4 cup butter
1/3 cup sugar
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
1/4 cup sour cream
1 1/2 cup apples, cored but not peeled and cut into chunks
1 tsp cinnamon

For the crumble:
1/4 cup butter, cubed
1/4 cup white sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar (packed)
1/2 cup flour
1 tsp vanilla

Beat the butter and sugar for the buckle until they are well creamed then add the egg, vanilla and sour cream. Mix until combined. Sprinkle the flour, baking powder and salt over the mixture and  beat lightly until just combined. Pour into the bottom of a buttered pan and top with apples. Sprinkle the cinnamon over the top.

In a food processor, pulse all ingredients until combined then crumble over the apples

Bake at 350 for 40 minute or until a knife pushed in comes out clean.

sunshine and storm

 

 Yesterday it rained all day long. Not just rained, poured. The wind blew, the rain blew and I stayed indoors, curled up in the armchair with my computer, covered in blankets and kittens. I wrapped my teapot in a dishtowel to keep it from going cold and kept the wood stove going for most of the day. And it was nice. Nice to just snuggle down with slippers on and big mugs of tea.

But sunshine is also nice as well. Today the sun is out, in that after a storm bright and shiny kind of way. This morning I planted mums outside our door and then took the dog for a kindling gathering walk since tonight it is supposed to get down to almost freezing. The old green crate, which used to be strapped to my sled to keep me in as a toddler, is full, ready for the cold snap. I stacked firewood in the sunroom, ready for this evening. For now the house is still warm from yesterday's fire. Later there will be some knitting, because even in the sun, it's sweater and hat weather out there, my favorite kind. Wishing you a beautiful fall day, wherever you are.