More Mitten

Technology and humans were both going haywire this week at work. It was bonkerstown. Did you experience this too? I thought it was a full moon thing, but a check of the lunar calendar ruled that out. I passed out Thursday night and woke up 8 hours later in exactly the same position in bed. That’s when you know you’re exhausted.

In between all the turmoil I kept knitting my stranded herringbone mittens.

And look! One is done. I’ve been blocking it on my hand so that it will take shape as the right-handed mitten.

One other piece of happiness is that our friends got a puppy. This puppy was part of a litter that showed up on her parents’ doorstep in North Carolina. They drove down a few weeks ago to get her, and Sam is smitten. In about two weeks the puppy will be bigger than Sam, at which point he might not be so fond of her. We’ll see if the love lasts. But how cute are they?

Old dog, new tricks

I came home from the grocery yesterday afternoon and Samson was gone. After I checked every hiding spot in the apartment, I started to panic. How does a dog disappear from a 2nd story apartment? He wasn’t with the neighbors, nobody else has a key, he wasn’t in the stairwells…

I keep the window to the balcony open so the cats can sit out there. Did somebody break in? But why would they only take a dog? More panic.

I called the police to report a missing dog, and after hearing about the open window they sent an officer. She came to the same conclusion – didn’t look like a break in. She asked if Sam would jump from the balcony. No way. He’s old and cautious. Plus, if he did I would think he’d be lying at the bottom.

But then I talked with the neighbor. While I was out he’d heard yelping, like a hurt animal. When he went outside to investigate he saw a small dog running down the street. So Sam had jumped. But he was running…that seemed good.

I called shelters and animal hospitals. I biked the neighborhood whistling and calling. Sam has a wonderful sense of direction and always returns home from his adventures, but I couldn’t shake the dread that he was hurt somewhere. Read called on Skype from Mexico for what he thought would be pleasant conversation, only to find me crying as I canvassed the neighborhood.

And then, at 1am this morning, there was Sam. Whining at the front door. He seems no worse for the wear. Why on earth would he jump? My only guess is that, knowing how much he hates delivery people, someone came knocking at the door and Sam decided to protect the house at all costs. What am I gonna do with this dog.

Teeny but tasty

Pea pods! They’re itty bitty and they might stay that way, but they win the prize for first edibles to come out of the balcony gardening experiment (high five).

I’m gradually learning about the camera the best way I know how – by taking pictures of one distinguished dog and two good-for-nothing cats. Take a cue from Teddy…kick back, stretch your limbs, and wear a big smile. It’s FRIDAY!

Wandering through the North Shore

After weeks of cold rainy weather we finally have a hot spell. The pets have all responded by suddenly going from “curled” to “sprawling” as they sleep.

Read leaves tomorrow for six weeks in Peru and Mexico where he’ll do some research and intensive language study. Sadly, I’m not tagging along on this one, so I took the day off work and we threw together a quick trip out of the city. This was one of those open-ended adventures where we picked a general destination but no itinerary. We drove all along the little towns in the North Shore – Magnolia, Essex, Rockport, Gloucester – and stopped whenever something looked interesting.

We walked along the harbor in Essex…

…napped on the beach…

…walked Sam through neighborhoods of adorable houses and picked where we’d most like to live…

…randomly found an awesome yarn store where I bought some roving…

…and on the advice of a coworker, stopped at Woodman’s of Essex (“Best Place to Eat in MA” from Bon Appetit) for some fried clams. Woodman’s did not disappoint. We split a fried seafood sampler, chowder, and an ear of corn – all washed down with a cold beer. It was an indulgent and tasty closer to our early Memorial Day trip.

Yeah, we ate that whole plate. No wonder my stomach is making weird noises as I type.

the big TWO NINE

Last week was my 29th birthday. My mom and dad like to call first thing in the morning, which is very sweet. Mom always sings the entire happy birthday song to me, then passes the phone to dad so he can ask “so…do you feel older?“

“Uhhh..(pause)…I guess so.”

Jonathan and me with our Easter tree, circa 1986

My dad likes to play on people’s apprehensions about the passage of time. As kids he used to ask us in July: “so how does it feel now that summer’s more than half over?” and then chuckle as we panicked about all the fun we had to cram in before school started.

With all of the changes last year brought I definitely felt the year go by. There were some sad parts to adjusting to a new place, but overall the last 365 days were pretty awesome. As for feeling older-in-an-aging-way, Boston traffic has not let me forget that my motion-sickness only seems to worsen the farther I get from childhood, and there are a few suspicious lines on my face that weren’t there several years ago. Also, I feel older when I have to tell people that Sam is 11. It’s hard to believe that he found me almost 7 years, 3 states, and 5 apartments ago.

Well…here’s to twenty-nine and all that last year brought me. And here’s how I celebrated:

I got my hair cut (sorry this is a lil blurry, but it shows the back). Not exactly in honor of my birthday, just coincidentally around the same time.

I let Carlo at Salon Cu (he is great btw) have full creative freedom. He made it kinda punk in a 29-year-old-way. I like it!

All the little messages of love from family and friends have gotta be the best part of birthdays. This little card came from Taiwan, and its sender writes the greatest notes

On birthday morning we walked to Sofra cafe down the street (I'm a big fan of morning birthday celebrations)

We ordered turkish coffee, a sweet rhubarb foccacia, and something called "morning bun" which was lemony and very delicious.

Read put a piece of "morning bun" on top of the camera, then deemed this "one of top Sam portraits ever". I guess now we know how Sam's food feels

Mom and dad sent merino/silk roving from Widdershin Woolworks. Just the excuse I needed to dust off the spinning wheel.

And to top it off this morning, a spring start on our balcony garden experiment. More on that later!

Date Cake

Today is our six-month anniversary! I think because so much has changed in the last six months, Read and I agreed that it seems like the wedding was longer ago. It was fun to look back at some pictures…

My "borrowed and blue" for the wedding was this ring from Grandma. My mom wore it on her wedding day too.

Cutting peaches with mom for the reception pies

first dance

We celebrated today by sleeping in, taking the bus to Harvard Square for a movie, and making dinner at home. I tried a date cake recipe from one of my favorite cookbooks – Cook Something by Mitchell Davis. I told Read it was “date nut bread,” but with two sticks of butter I think it’s more accurately classified as cake.

Date Cake

When I panned out to get a different angle, I noticed a certain little black dog. His expression is too much.

Sam wants a date with the cake

The Ballad of Sam’s Coats

The First Coat: It was burgundy wool with a mock turtleneck. Very distinguished. The yarn came from a thrift store sweater that I unwound. On a hike up Spencer’s Butte in Oregon Sam ran off. I heard him howling and tracking something for a while…then nothing. Forty five minutes later he stumbled into the dark parking lot. Shivering. Soaking wet. NO SWEATER. He told a big story about how a raccoon accosted him in the woods, stole the sweater, and pushed him into a creek. Every time he tells it the raccoon gets bigger and the creek deeper.

The Second Coat: This one was a beauty. Cream-colored wool with dark blue and red stripes. Very collegiate. One morning Sam walked out into the yard with the sweater on his back, and when I called him to come back in, NO SWEATER. He played dumb this time, trying to make me believe that he never had it on in the first place. A month later I found it…snagged on the compost pile fence ala Peter Rabbit. I can only guess that Sam was elbow-deep in compost when he heard me calling him. The sweater was stuck so he had to wriggle out and leave it hanging.  Sadly, a month of Oregon rain had ruined it beyond repair and I swore I wouldn’t knit Sam another.

No really...and it wasn't just one raccoon. It was a gang of them.

The Third Coat: Just finished it today. Felted handspun on one side and black fleece on the other. Very warm and washable. The style reminds me of those blankets horses wear in the winter. I was inspired to use up the first few skeins of yarn I ever spun – they’re lumpy and inconsistent and too weird for anything you’d wear in public. This coat is basically a big rectangle of garter stitch (sz 10.5 needles) tapered at the hindquarters. The neckband extends into a 6 inch tab and in the middle there’s a wide fleece belly tab. I sewed a piece of black fleece to the felted wool, then trimmed all the edges. For now safety pins will do as closures, but I put velcro on my shopping list.

the warmth of wool and the wind-blocking-power of fleece!

the coat's colorful underside

close-up of the felted garter stitch

I know Sam, I think we should turn up the thermostat too

Making Monday morning more manageable…

…with pumpkin cinnamon rolls. BIG ones.

I was setting up a new gmail account using my married name, and in the process was suggested a bunch of blogs for my Reader (thanks Google!). Kitchn (from the same folks as Apartment Therapy) posted a recipe that day for No-Knead Pumpkin Rolls with Brown Sugar Glaze and I just happened to have half a can of pureed pumpkin to use up  (the first half went to pumpkin cookies).

We got this nutmeg grinder as a wedding shower gift. My mom has this unnatural hatred for all things nutmeg and I'd always omitted it from recipes. I thought I hated nutmeg too. But turns out I don't know the difference, which is good because the grinder is cute and fun.

While the dough raised we watched Season 2 of Castle, which Read has helped me cultivate a love for. It took a few episodes for the dough to rise – longer than I thought – even with the trick where you put the bowl in an unheated oven with a pan of hot water. What finally helped was I turned the oven on 250 just long enough for the interior to heat up (10 min).

Wherever there is food prep, there is a Samson

Cutting the rolls with a piece of dental floss

Dough rises under my favorite dishtowel...it's so pretty I refuse to use it for normal kitchen functions.

Sam prepares for bed, while visions of cinammon rolls dance in his head

I didn't have confectionery sugar for the glaze. Next time.

 

Why we’re on the Post Office’s watch list

In so many ways, Sam is not a typical dog. This is how he wins over non-dog-people. He doesn’t ask for attention, he doesn’t fetch, he silently observes people and situations…sometimes he’s downright boring. Before long folks are petting his sleeping form and confessing, “I don’t usually like dogs…but this dog is funny.” And he is.

Sam...wasting time until dinner

Turns out he’s also a public menace. Last week we got a letter from the U.S. Postal Service that read:

I am writing to make you aware of problems that our carrier is having with your dog. Yesterday, July 14, she was chased by your dog into the neighbors yard. This is unacceptable. Dog threats are a very real concern for our letter carriers. Millions of dollars are spent each year on injuries our carriers sustain from dogs. It is postal policy that the mail will not be delivered to a home that presents a dog threat….

Sam was confined to the backyard when this happened. There’s a Sam-sized hole in the fence if you kick aside some boards, so he must have seen the mailperson coming, pushed aside the boards, bolted through the fence to terrorize her, and (here’s the kicker) – GONE BACK INSIDE THE FENCE. Geez. Only Sam would be so assured in his right-ness that he’d bust out of confinement only to re-enter confinement when the job was done.

I don’t blame the post office one bit. I wouldn’t want strange dogs barking and chasing me, and I told Sam that he was lucky he didn’t get pepper-sprayed. Or worse. He told me that this woman is part of an evil government-watch plan that involves aliens, Richard Simmons, and a national ban on bacon. Poor Sam…I’m afraid old age is starting to mess with his head.

Summer Solstice

One night last week the western sky was still dusky pink when Read and I went to bed. When I was little, I pouted about being sent to bed in summer when it was still light out. Funny how we voluntarily do things as adults that we fought against as kids. 

How have you been spending these extra long summer days? Here’s some photos of what’s been happening over here…

The roommate adopted a 2 year old golden retriever (here he is after a run-through with the Furminator comb). As I write this, Sam is under the bed covers, growling at the retriever and his goofy, panting efforts to climb into bed for a group cuddle.

 

I spent a long weekend in NYC with my highschool friends. It was so much fun, and the time change helped me stay up late and sleep in...very exciting for someone who's known as the one who falls asleep at parties in a corner chair. Here we are walking around Brooklyn at sunset.

 

I keep plugging away at this blue lace hat. It's too big for the fitted cap I imagined, so I'm going to try and make it a loose beret-type thing. More to come.

 

On Saturday Sam and I took a hike with friends at Brice Creek. The water is crystal clear straight to the bottom. We passed a couple swimming holes with real potential...I took notes.

 

A dignified and regal Sam, posing at Brice Creek. Tango the little poodle looks impressed, yes?