Part Deux: With a Sunday to Match

I wasn't kidding when I said I had an exceptional weekend. You've already heard how great Saturday night was, and while Sunday was very different, it was equally lovely.

The Awesome Fiance and I took an hour-long boat ride to spend the day visiting one of my closest friends. We live in an area that's generally pretty scenic, as areas go: nice architecture in the downtown area, city parks with beds of tulips or roses, depending on the season, that sort of thing. I gotta say, though, the islands off the northern New England coast take the cake -- so, so, so beautiful. And, lucky us, we got to spend most of the day on one. The Awesome Fiance was kind enough to snap a photo; note the new spring vegetation and birch trees in the background!



After a ferry ride back to the mainland, The Awesome Fiance and I fired up the grill and ate dinner out in the backyard: hot dogs and broccoli slaw (thank you, Smitten Kitchen!) and a few menacing but ultimately inconsequential raindrops. Then he got a fire going in our free-standing fire pit, so we roasted marshmallows and made s'mores! Oh yes we did! Realio, trulio, campfire s'mores. And, because a fire does not simply extinguish itself once it no longer senses the presence of marshmallows, we *had to* sit and watch it for an additional hour or so of soothing (pyromaniacal?) enjoyment.

A yard with a fire pit, and table, a grill, a hammock, and a garden: highly recommended. Having super-great friends who live on islands is great, too, but the key, really, is the super-great friends part.

Recounting a Great Weekend, Part I: R to the O

Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness. I just wrapped up one of the best weekends I could have hoped for. This post is likely to be full of soaring and poetic narrative detailing over-optimism, sheer joy, and blatant avoidance of all things remotely negative. If any of these things bother you, I suggest you stop reading now. Otherwise, chipperness ahoy!

Mr. Terrific and I spent Friday evening with a lovely group of his coworkers. Great people, all very welcoming, friendly, and just plain fun to be around. Awesomeness points: hundreds.

On Saturday, we made some progress on the old house front. The corners of one particularly awkward hallway (over a staircase) that I couldn't reach are now officially painted. Hooray for Mr. Terrific being taller than I am. Awesomeness points: several.

In the afternoon, it was strongly suggested that I take a nap (insert another few awesomeness points for that), in preparation for a surprise adventure in the evening. Mr. Terrific had asked me a few weeks ago to block out the day and he managed to keep me thoroughly perplexed about why, refusing to refer to the plan as anything other than just "the surprise." We got in the car in the early evening and I was assigned to navigation assistance, as the directions were of no help in deciphering the substance of the destination ("Brownfield?! What the heck's in Brownfield?").

Pulling into the parking lot (and I use the term loosely... dirt road and adjacent field, more like) wasn't helpful, either. The adorable farmhouse exterior gave no indication that we were about to walk into a gorgeous, serene, cathedral-ceilings-with-timber-frame-exposed-beams, 200-seat performing arts venue to see a primarily acoustic show by quite possibly my favorite band. [For those of you reading from a geographic distance, if you've not yet discovered the
Rustic Overtones, good lord, you need to check them out. Seriously. Now. Please? For me? It will make my so happy to know I've shared their fantabulousness with others.]

And what a show it was. Such palpable excitement and energy from the two hundred of us who wanted to be there enough to make the long trek over back roads not even navigable via GPS technology. Such talent on the stage, fantastic songwriting, and amazing musicianship. I've got a special place in my heart for any band with a horn line, but these guys are over-the-top talented. And the singer? Dude has got control over his voice, yo.

I might be slightly biased, what with the fact that Rustic Overtones provided much of the sountrack of the early years of my adulthood. To be fair, though, Mr. Terrific, who's been skeptical of the extent of their talents, was mightily impressed Saturday night and may be won over as a convert in the near future. Regardless of whether my perception of their fabulosity was accurate, for me, enjoying the show was an electric, soul-nourishing experience. It's the sort of thing that might, I suspect, only be fully appreciated by those who've had the opportunity to feel the rush of being showered in appreciative applause (which I've only had an inkling of in comparison, to be fair). Listening to expertly performed music so energetically good that my face hurt from smiling and my hands hurt from clapping made my soul decidedly un-hurty. Awesomeness points: a gazillion.

Where does the time go?

No, seriously? How is it that the days are flying by so fast one might almost hear a barely perceptible sonic boom?

Lunch with a friend, trip to the gym, mini-grocery excursion (meaning that I only picked up a few things, not that I went to a store dealing only in very small wares), then to the post office, then home. Four and a half hours, gone. Huh? I just barely have enough time to water the vegetables in the garden outside before I have to get ready for the fun evening plans we've got scheduled.

Slow down, time! (Um, but then pick back up again on cue when I'm employed again and at work, mkay?)

A rare instance in which it's good to be wrong...

Remember my rant about the recurring rain and lack of evaporation? Well, the weather sure showed me! We were supposed to have rain (and hail, I'd heard) yesterday afternoon, but the forecast was wonderfully inaccurate. The sunshine and evaporation were most appreciated. I celebrated by mowing two lawns and painting a whole bunch of wall surface area.

I also managed, finally, to get a reasonably okay picture of my new, shorter hair, having gotten my hair cut back on Friday. Until it gets a little bit longer, I think I'll need to add some curl (as shown) to feel like I don't look like I'm seven. Every haircut I've ever had has looked best about three or four weeks after the actual cut, and I suppose this one only serves to prove that I've got consistent hair.



And yes, that's a better, brighter photo of Picovoli. I've now moved on to Camden, in a so-pale-it's-almost-gray lavender cotton/angora blend. Mmmmm.

Evaporation: I Miss It

Let me first state that I'm very thankful I'm not dealing with the shoveling of snow and the scraping of frost on cars right now. Things could be worse. Still, though, I will proceed to complain.

We're in a rainy stretch. Or, to be more precise, a threatening-to-be-rainy stretch. For weeks and weeks now (well, it feels like it, anyway) we've had some precipitation at least every 36 hours or so. We've had brief sunny breaks, but they're difficult to enjoy thoroughly with more rain looming in the forecast.

More annoying than having to bring the hammock inside each day or having to put off mowing the lawn is the fact that the house has felt damp. Bath towels? Damp. Hand-wash sweaters on a drying rack? Damp for days on end. I'm not usually the sort of person who needs lots of sunshine, from a cheerfulness perspective, and in fact I quite like rain in moderation, but some evaporation would be really nice about now.

A check of the forecast tells me there might be some evaporation on Wednesday, before more rain on Thursday. Sigh.

Putting the "craft" in "craftosaurus"

There was a time when I used to blog about knitting, wasn't there? A few months ago, maybe? Before gardening and a major birthday and a major announcement. For now, that time is here again.

I present to you a very poorly lit picture of Picolovi, which promises to be a well-fitting and classic wardrobe staple, once it's been blocked and the edges have been flattened, and perhaps after it's been run through a dryer cycle or two.



Let me tell you, though, Patons Grace is is pretty good stuff for cotton all by itself. It's soft, drapes very well, and is generally lovely to wear.

Also note, by way of prediction or teaser effect, that the hair you see in the picture there will be fairly dramatically shortened later this week. Pictures to come, if the result is a reasonable improvement...

Must. Be. Patient.

Here's what I've been reminding myself constantly over the past few days:

It isn't safe to plant the tomatoes yet. It isn't safe to plant the tomatoes yet. It isn't safe to plant the tomatoes yet....

But oh, it's so tempting. The weekend was lovely and sunny and sleeveless-comfortable. Yesterday was in the eighties. The eighties! That kind of weather isn't what I'd choose for myself, mind you, but for the vegetable garden it's deceptively ideal. A quick check of the week's forecast indicates that overnight temperatures will be in the mid-thirties or higher as far as the eye can see (which, admittedly, is not that far when one is looking at a weather forecast). I really, really want to move the tomato seedlings currently hanging out on a window sill in the living room to the garden, outside, where they can soak up the sunshine and fresh air and loveliness of spring.

It isn't safe yet, though, because spring also brings frost. Realistically and reluctantly, I know this. Planting this week would pretty much ensure a few frosty nights next week (thank you, Murphy), a lesson I learned last year. Oh, the carnage. It wasn't pretty, and I won't let it happen again.

Thank goodness I've got some peas popping up already to tide me over on the progress-watching front. They were planted the first week of April, 'cause they can take the cold. My kind of vegetable. Mm hmm.

Shown here next to the fence that will eventually serve as a support trellis. I hope.