It has been one of those beautiful weekends here — early fall in Alabama is a time of perfect weather and lush foliage that returns from the death knell of summer drought for one last burst of roses, flowers, and blooming herbs before the season comes to an end. Miss Ellie and I spent Saturday afternoon making Strawberry jam with a friend from work. It was blissful. Ellie was almost as taken with the jam as she was with the two big, friendly German Shepards, Elvis and Jenny. And this morning, husband and I took the littles to the zoo and saw such oddities as the Victoria Crowned Pigeon.
We came home and I painted some roving, Blue Face Leicester, for a bag I want to felt later this week (this is about three ounces extra of this, and I’m going to offer it for sale at www.middayfaire.com this Tuesday, at noon, if anyone is interested) and worked on some different silk waste products that I want to experiment with incorporating into felting — some throwster’s waste and cocoon strippings.
While that all was batching, I decided to start in on the short ribs from the Barefoot Contessa Family Cookbook, so that Monday night dinner would just be a warm up kind of thing. I should have noticed the surreal quiet that rarely descends on my household, but I didn’t. I was in the groove — mincing fennel and making small herb swatches using chives instead of string to tie up the packets of rosemary and oregano. Suddenly I heard the husband — "Ollie, what are you doing?" I could tell he was torn between laughter and horror. This is what Ollie was doing.
It’s . Looks nice on him, doesn’t it?