artisans of all types

I write to realize the world as one has come to live in it, thus to give testament. I write to move in words,  a human delight. I write when no other act is possible.  
Robert Creeley

the wind is up again
It's Wednesday now. My BBF (best best friend), staying with us, left for the airport an hour ago. We had a lovely time together. Cooking, eating, knitting, writing, talking, talking... We each managed to get a bit of Christmas shopping done. Much less for me since I try to keep the gift thing simple and limited. Toddler Dante is our main recipient now. I had planned to knit a sweater and a hat for him by Christmas. I haven't bought the yarn yet. However, he just turned two and has no idea about dates. Whenever it arrives, it will be a surprise. Little kids get too much stuff at Christmas anyway (I tell myself) and he has lots of family, extended family, and family friends who will shower him with loving gifts -- he's a very popular guy.

I'm still thinking about that freaky Sunday snowstorm. Freaky because it's so long since we had snow and the weather has been so benign. Suddenly it was freezing and windy. I'm also remembering the rugged rocky off-road drive we took to get to the destination where our friends actually live and travel to and from every day. And I love the way summer furniture looks in winter snow -- as long as one is inside and wearing alpaca socks on one's feet and can take the picture from the window.

I've started replenishing my sock yarn supply and although I didn't take a picture of the latest acquisition yet, believe me when I say it's the colors of the veggies I prepared for the Moroccan Stew we ate last night (New Recipes from Moosewood). The stew was good, the yarn is tempting me. But not as much as the incredible chocolates from chokola at the Chocolate and Cashmere shop: basil lime, earl grey, passion fruit, coffee ganache, caramel sea salt, vanilla chai...sigh!