Sweet sweet lemonade

Hello again! I hope you've had a lovely couple of weeks? I caught up on quite a bit, if not everything, and finally had time to create a new cooking setup:

I know, the innovation! A spice rack. But it's an exciting change all the same. And not only because I love this shelf a ton and haven't had it in circulation for years, being wrongly convinced that it wouldn't fit under our cabinets.

*

Today's story begins unhappily, about two months ago when I noticed bugs lying dead on the counter I reserve for baking, or else staggering around on it. This was perplexing because there were a lot of them. When more appeared the next day, I realized they'd fallen from the cupboard above. 

Turns out I'd had the dumb luck of buying a bag of wheat berries infested with said bugs via a tiny hole I'd unknowingly positioned within about an inch of a can of cherry pie filling I hadn't gotten around to using, which in turn had a leak positioned in the direction of the tiny hole. 

I'm sure I don't need to tell you that if a can of anything leaks, it's very possibly because of a pressure buildup from botulism. In this case I would slide that scale to 'almost certainly'. Despite having a multi-year lifespan, these bugs were dying young after gorging themselves on the runoff.

So much for the yucky backstory: the result was, I had to decontaminate *every*thing in the cupboard and on the counter, leaving me heartbroken and procrastinating (for the aforementioned two months, during which I basically had caution tape around the whole area) until I realized that addressing the problem would give me a blank canvas for rebuilding the way I store things in the kitchen. 

Lemonade from lemons, is there anything better?

Plus, just in time for fall! Not to mention Canadian Thanksgiving, a foodfest that's happening next weekend already.

Over the summer, when I was mostly making salads, I'd started keeping a few staples like shallots and tiny tomatoes in a glass loaf pan on the cooking side of the counter, but I was still walking to the baking side to get any herbs and spices I wanted to throw in there, because I had no other place to stow them. 

Not any more! Having been forced to rebuild my supplies, I found my old red shelf could accommodate everything while going vertical. That's freed up the now-empty cupboards over the baking counter to accommodate some of the baking stuff I was crowding into the drawer below it. 

And if all this news isn't exciting enough for you: brace yourself.

Our coffee making is dying, and our kettle has decided it will only work if I hold my thumb on the power switch till it's finished boiling. 

So I'm gonna be totally overhauling the coffee and tea station as well.

Today.

But probably after a nap because all this change is a lot to take in.

In other news, I still have not finished the socks I started in spring and have to gift *next month.* but I did finish polishing the manuscript I started around the same time, so I might actually get them wrapped more than ten minutes before delivery. More on that next week, I hope.

Hope you have a lovely Saturday and thank you as always for dropping by, especially after a two-week break in the ol' routine!

Not quite the Northern Lights

My 'bucket list' has one thing on it: see the Northern Lights. 

not the Northern Lights, but a blur of harvest moon

In theory this should be achievable, but somehow it hasn't been. Even this past summer, when all our neighbours were blown away by what they saw from their cottages and other getaway locations, we were swamped and couldn't get out of the city for dark skies. 

So last night, when it seemed like there might be another chance, four of us piled into Pete's car and drove to the farm.

Spoiler alert: there were no Northern Lights.

What there was: 

A ninety-minute drive together, with much hilarity and life catchup.

A chance to see our tiny shed with the soft lights on.

A crunchy, then grassy and damp, walk to the pond, lit by four flashlights held in cluster mode.

A look at an incredibly beautiful frog, maybe half the size of my palm, which crossed our path and stopped when we shone a light on him. 

An awareness of many more leaping things, some of them bugs, some of them (a lot) more frogs, all living their lives as busy night creatures. 

A mysterious pocket of warm air halfway up the hill that lasted as long as five or six strides, then dissipated, but was still present when we came back down.

I also discovered that my phone camera can do a long exposure and capture a better look at the stars than we could with our own eyes, at least until we turned off the flashlights and got used to the dark. I know that last picture could just as easily be breadcrumbs on our soapstone counter, but it's stars, I promise.

Today I feel like a rag rung mostly dry, because we had to do the ninety minute drive home after a long time waiting and hoping, but it was such an unexpected delight to spend a Friday night together doing something spontaneous, if totally unrealistic. 

Speaking of unrealistic: I am not gonna get to anything crafty between now and the day I finish polishing my current manuscript, and said polishing is taking a lot of time and care. So I will be taking the rest of September to do that, and I'll be back to hang out again here at Hugs the first Saturday in October. 

Have a wonderful weekend, and two weeks after that equally so, and I'll see you October 5th! And thanks, as always, for spending time with me today.

For the love of wool

The temps are way down today and though the sun is pouring through our big south-facing window, the screen is letting in a breeze that's cool. I almost need a sweater. Yes, that's a happy sigh you're hearing from me.

I've left this photo at high resolution so you can click it and see the curly halo on that two-stripe heart. Isn't wool wonderful? I am so ready to wear it this autumn.

But first I gotta finish proofreading my current manuscript! 

When I have that job out of the way, I've lined up some books to read.

Maybe not this many... some of what's in those unopened packages are vintage Agatha Christie paperbacks. I'm kind of obsessed with the range of cover art on them, and might have bought a few, ahem, in a weak moment in July. 

I wrote about my August reading over on Instagram - no account required - and North and South was the standout. You may know this one from the BBC miniseries, which is so visually arresting you might not be able to knit through it all, even if you are knitting a stocking-stitch sock and don't need to pay a lot of attention to your needles. A large component of the story turns on cotton mills and the the scenes showing the conditions for workers as they weave cotton cloth are not to be missed by textile lovers and/or amateur historians. I must have watched the miniseries a dozen times but I think I loved the book even more.

There has been a lot more walking in the ravine lately, despite some days last week being unpleasantly humid. 

 

I find it so calming to be near water like this, though I do miss being near a lake! I spent the first 20 years or so of my life less than a block from Lake Ontario, which you can see to the other side of on a clear day. And since not every day is clear, you can feel like you're looking to infinity a lot of the time. A creek is not so much about infinity, but when the water eddies around rocks and moves on, you do get continuity.

Proofreading feels like this kind of continuity, a lot of the time. As in, it never seems to be finished, ARg.

But when I'm done, it'll be autumn, and I'll be wearing some wool. Hope you're getting the weather you like best this weekend, wherever you are... and thanks as always for spending a little time with me today. See you next Saturday!

How is it Labour Day Again

And here we are, back to another Labour Day Weekend! I always see this as a bigger reset than New Year's... fallout from all those school days I guess. Quick look at the fading days of summer here in beautiful sunny Toronto:

I love the autumn so much, and I'm not even a pumpkin spice girl. It's partly the sweater weather, partly the textured blue-greys of stormy skies, a lot the fact that I can get out and walk without slipping on ice or coming home sweaty. 

The last few years, with my head down writing, I've barely made time for outdoor activities, and last September thanks to a round of Covid that lingered with crushing fatigue, I missed the whole thing. This round, I am trying to maximize the ol' opportunities. 

After I clear up our pantry, ahem, and deal with a substantial laundry backload (again: head down writing!) I probably take Labour Day too literally, but the Overhaul Fest is how I spend it every time, sigh.

So today, since your options are pictures of jars moving to the front of cans by expiry date, or the walk I took last weekend with an out-of-town friend who drove in for the purpose, you're getting the walk. This time it features one of Toronto's gorgeous forest trails.

This lush path is right in the city, one of several that foster wetlands and interesting plant and insect species as they track the ravine system. You can go a *long* way doing that by bike or on foot, and we passed plenty of runners and dog-walking families too. 

Between the trails and forested areas there are huge swathes of picnic-friendly clearings, of which I do not currently have pictures to share. On weekends you'll often see extended family groups setting up for the day with a wagon full of coolers and equipment, the kids doing pickup sports while the grownups grill the day's meals and chat and unwind. 

The Sunnybrook Park component of the ravine system (where I took these pix) also features a huge flat area up a hill for sports grounds. It's got a shady path around the perimeter dotted with public-use outdoor fitness equipment like parallel bars, and setups for soccer and cricket. Families often set up for the day there too.

I kinda well up when I see how engaged our neighbours are and how much our city makes available for us all... I'm so grateful to live in a welcoming place where it's possible to access green space within range of public transit, if not your own two feet.

My fave spots are the shady leafy ones like this, where you can hear running water and trace the trunks and branches of the ravine's trees. Soon enough this path will be littered with colourful leaves and I totally intend to wade through them. 

Speaking of wading, how cute is this little sandbar at the side of the creek? You can climb down here easily and stand right at the water. Dogs must totally love this spot, which is I suspect the explanation for many a soggy canine I've seen in here.

Happy sigh. I can't wait to get back out there, maybe tomorrow when the weather cools down again. Today it is very hot, making it the perfect time to do some basement dwelling and tidy up to be ready for a new season. 

My personal goals for the next three months:

Getting at least two hours of outside time during daylight

Casting on a new non-sock knitting project

Or alternatively casting on mohair boot socks cause it's been too long

Setting up a spot for weaving and possibly even actual weaving

Reminding myself how to spin fiber - I might have to relearn entirely!

Finishing the revision on the next novel while I send out the current one

Starting a new writing project

Baking some yummy things

Eating some apple pie

 

That last one is such a craving right now for some reason. I feel like I might have to do an apple pie tasting tour of every place in the city that offers them.

Maybe this is too much to do in three months, but I'd rather aim high than not. Do you ever make plans for the fall?

No need to answer, we are a quiet bunch here at Hugs! But I so appreciate your coming by every week to spend a little time with me. Hope your Labour Day Weekend is lovely. See you next Saturday!

Sweater Weather Again

I've been trying to get outside more now that our heatwaves have passed, and this week I saw something that made me feel sweater weather is almost upon us:

Yes, I know, it's a cemetery, and it's more suggestive of Halloween being upon us... which we already knew because the stores are full of Halloween decor already. So maybe there was a little bit of October feels giving me the idea of cosying up in wool. Especially when the next picture I *had* to take was this one:

That's a lil spooky, if you ask me.

Even so, I think the end of August is a good time to think about knitting a sweater, especially if you've been knitting nothing but socks and hats for ten years, ahem. You, or I, might actually have time to finish by November if you, or I, start now.

This cemetery is a great place to walk, with or without a sweater, because it's huge and has long, winding roads and also some little cedar-chip paths. And it's lovely there with its impeccable landscaping and the occasional flowering plant.

 

But also because it doubles as an arboretum, and is super leafy and shady as a result. I liked the rigid clipping plan for this tree:

But maybe it's easier to see in this closeup:

Halfway home I saw this knockout, which shares some features with a 1970s fake Christmas tree in that all its foliage traces the rigid branch that juts out from the trunk:

I had to know what it was. 

It's a Ginkgo Biloba! I had no idea. In fact I had no idea Ginkgo Biloba was a tree at all. I've only read about it as a supplement. Yeesh. 

I tried to get a shot of the seeds...

... but I think all I got was more summery blue sky.

I mean it's still only August. We'll have warm weather another five weeks at least. And I'm trying to use up my yarn stash, which doesn't stretch to sweater quantities in any one, or even any compatible, colourway/s. So maybe a vest? I do like a good vest, and I might have time to hunt for a pattern soon because my writing project is wrapping up nicely.

Soon is maybe a good plan whether I'm done writing or not, because I saw this during my morning stroll today.

 

Yipes! 

Hope you're ready for the change in season, and if you have good vest pattern suggestions I am all ears. Thanks for dropping by this week and I'll see you next Saturday!

Knit Trip Fail

I was very excited to get out for two road trips this week - day trips, really, but covering a decent distance - and prepped knitting for them and everything. Here is the sock I worked on, during trip one:

It's all chompy! My favourite cute stage for a sock. And maybe you will be able to relate to this, but I was really loving working on it, too. 

Since I broke two fingers on my left hand a few years back, I've never felt the same about knitting. It's not smooth and effortless like it was, somehow. I am less confident and engaged in it. Not so as I sat in the car and needled the stitches, flying along, missing even that we were crossing the Skyway Bridge over Burlington Bay (which was just as well, as it's always kind of freaked me out.)

However! the experience was doomed. We stopped at a gas station bathroom and the soap in there smelled so very awful, I didn't want to risk touching my yarn again lest there be odor transfer. So I waited and, among other things, took pictures of the High Falls in Rochester:

Because on a day trip, you totally want to spend four hours driving to Rochester so you can turn around and come home again. To be fair I am glad I saw these gorgeous falls, right smack in the middle of downtown...

... and also that we were able to restock our dwindling supply of Kleenex facial tissues, which are no longer sold in Canada owing to shipping costs. 

Coming back we drove the south shore of Lake Ontario and that was lovely too. As was the view of the whirlpool downriver from Niagara Falls. 

I even liked the wild plants growing alongside the cliff path enough to take these pictures.

Plus clouds! It was a gorgeous day for clouds. And for rain, which drenched us before drying up again.

When we finally crossed back home to Canada and I didn't have to check my map every ten minutes, I washed my hands one more time to be sure the smell was finally gone, and pulled out my knitting for more excitement. Whereupon I discovered this:

A DROPPED STITCH.

So much for the return of all my carefree knitting flair.

I know I have to rip back and reknit, but I am telling myself I'll be able to pick it up with a crochet hook and carry on. I have to wait for that voice to quiet down. These socks are for Jan, for Christmas, and they have to be perfect. 

Later in the week we drove to Buffalo and I brought the other sock, but I was still tired from the previous trip and didn't have the heart to knit much. So instead I will show you pictures fro Delaware Park, which is incredibly lovely and well worth the drive.

That's Hoyt Lake, and here is the Rose Garden.

 

This time the skies were clear and temperatures were soooo hoooooot... no wonder I didn't pick up my needles as the day progressed.

That brief glimmer of joy in knitting did make me think about what I might cast on next, though, when I finally finish Jan's socks. Maybe a pair of mohair socks, which are faster and so lovely to work with? It might be that I need the change in fiber to claw back some enthusiasm. Or maybe I should make a sweater? Or even a vest. Just some random thing I might never intend to wear, even, launched for the love of knitting it. 

After all, autumn is only a month or two away now, and there's nothing nicer than a new knit when the temperatures drop. Not even the view of stunning falls, or a leafy well-groomed park.

Hope you're having a lovely weekend and again, thank you for joining me. I'm going to wander off now and think more about how to handle that dropped stitch. See you next Saturday!

Corn Fest

Now that the weather's finally broken from 'soup' to 'normal summer bliss', and we are finally looking at mini vacations to enjoy it, I've been eyeing ears of corn at the grocery store. And today, my friends, we broke our four-year corn fast. Bliss!

This time I tried a brilliant cooking solution from Rose Reisman, who posted the technique on her Instagram account. Basically, instead of boiling the cobs for 20 minutes and filling your house with heat, you steam them for 2 minutes and retain your good humour. Also the natural sugar and flavour, if you care about stuff like that.

After you've shucked and rinsed the corn and lined it up all ready to go into the pot, you have to wait for the all-important inch of water to boil. I used the waiting time to check whether I'm ready to turn the heel flap on the sock I want to take on the day trip I'm mapping out:

and to wash the corn holders (we were one short!)

and to check on the dog.

Okay, some might say the dog is a stick reindeer a neighbour left out on the curb for garbage pickup, but we say it's family. Every so often we put sunglasses and a hat or joke tiara on it and stick it somewhere to surprise somebody as they come in the door - on top of the entry table staring them down is a good one, or pressed up against a window staring down some peckish soul who's just trying to have a snack.  

Finally, the first cobs were ready to come out of the water. 

The difference in colour is amazing, isn't it? Especially after a four-year drought resulting from neglect and the absence of a barbeque, our previous corn-approved cooking surface. A sight for sore eyes, one might say.

Guess who got the fork in place of the missing corn holder? But honestly, with this steaming thing, you don't burn your hands on the ends anyway, so it didn't matter.

My review: Rose Reisman is a hero. The corn was so good, and the kitchen stayed pretty cool, and everybody was happy. And now I can go back to trip planning. Not like I can do much else while I recover from all that gorging, ahem.

Hope you've been having a great Saturday and thanks as always for dropping by to spend a little time with me - I always appreciate it so much. Come back next week when I will hopefully have trip pix and knitting progress. I mean these socks are supposed to be a Christmas present and I don't know how I'll pull it off if I keep going at this rate, so I gotta pick up the pace somehow!

Looking forward

We're into the last couple of days of another July heatwave (that's dragging on through the August long weekend no less) and I am so ready to move on!

This is the Monty Don gardening book I spent all last winter pining for, and all spring excited about when it was finally released in Canada, and still have not sat down with. Too busy writing, which I know is a refrain you hear quite often here at Hugs. Well, the current manuscript is in its final stages now - it's had its first pass with vetting, and I've noted all the revisions I need to make on the paper copy, and by the time you're reading this I will be holed up in my tiny office again, transposing them onto the screen copy. 

Which means I noticed some yarn yesterday, when I opened the high cupboard where I keep meal trays and knitting supplies (since those go together so naturally.) And I got thinking about my dreams for August - getting to the farm to block out the walled garden I've always dreamed of having some day, and October - knitting something that isn't socks.

And wouldn't it be wonderful if I could find a good place to plant some fruit trees near the walled garden? Or even not near it.

The yarn is from the Boreal colourway from Twisted Fiber Art, which I still miss so much... they did not survive the pandemic. My stash did though.

Look at that handspun... I don't even remember making it, it's been so long, and I'm not sure I remember how to use my spinning wheel either. But I'm pretty sure I can pick it up once I am the version of me who has garlic planted in the dream garden.

I have two cakes of sport weight yarn, two cakes of handspun yarn in what weight is anybody's guess (by which I mean everybody's, because it varies a lot along the length) and a contrast solid in deep purple.

I suppose the logical thing to do with all this is: weave a scarf, knit matching mittens. Or do a very large shawl, though I never actually wear those, so it always feels like a wasted effort.

Wouldn't it be nice if I could think of another project? Can you recommend anything?

Meanwhile, my revisions are waiting for me. And the vintage Agatha Christies are still pouring in through the mailbox.

So, life is good. And it's going to be even better in August, and October. Hope your immediate-future plans are unfolding dreamily and that you have a wonderful weekend. Thanks for coming by to spend this time with me!