9.18.2012



We spent the morning at our favorite spot on the river, drinking coffee and giving into a shiver every so often. It's a chilly 54°F outside and I'm enjoying the change. I layered on some denim and these strange mustard-colored knit harem pants, which I found at the thrift store (along with Sam's L.L.Bean wool shirt, above).

Sitting there, with cold ears, Sam and I each described the hat we want to wear this autumn, and it turns out to be the same one—this one, really.

"We can't have the same hat!"

"Well, only one of us knows how to knit."

9.12.2012


She reads anything and everything and even now hates to be disturbed and above all however often she has read a book and however foolish the book may be no one must make fun of it or tell her how it goes on. It is still as it always was real to her. 

- Gertrude Stein, The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas, 1933

9.11.2012






Coffee, slept-in braids, wet shoes (from getting caught in a storm on our ride back from this), and one messy kitchen, with five jars of pickled beets—and five more of okra, now—to show for it.

9.04.2012





I took a series of Polaroids during a road trip to/through Yellowstone two years ago, and just finally got around to framing and hanging them. They were always beautiful to me, but now they really mean something—those two weeks were two of my best.

Pitching tents in the Iowa dark, Amish picnic lunches in South Dakota, swing dancing into the morning in Wyoming, and then white water rafting in Montana just hours later, up into Canada for 36 hours without sleep, before crossing the North Dakota border and giving into a truck stop nap—all of that hanging there in three little squares beside my front door.

I followed this tutorial for French framing, using this mat cutter and 8" x 10" pre-cut glass and backing.

9.01.2012

Hello, Saturday. Hello, summer. Hello, autumn. Hello, all.

I worked on the batter this morning while Sam ran an errand. Zesting lemons, beating egg whites, and then I thought, "I know what I'm missing!" I called Sam and asked if he could pickup the newest Tallest Man on Earth album, very casually, as if it were a grocery item, something small that I needed to complete a task.

This seems like the perfect time to do something like this, since it's all so tangible:
LISTENING The Tallest Man on Earth and (his wife) Idiot Wind (Thanks, Molly!)
WATCHING Sleepwalk with Me and The Imposter
EATING Sprouted Kitchen's Lemon Pancakes
READING The Autobiography of Alice B. Toklas by Gertrude Stein

Now we've moved on to a sultry Julie London record. Things are moving very slowly around here today, and that—that feels fine.