Strawberries, goat cheese and a contra dance
I can't put three sentences together coherently today, because I have a lot to do, and my brain is being run by a team of hamsters. There's phone calls to be made, errands to run and the last four rows of Icarus to knit.
I think it's a mean trick to make the fourth-from-the-end row full of kf&bs, so I end up knitting an even longer row on the third from the end. I mean, the finish line is almost in sight! To wear this thing on Friday, I decided I have to have it blocking by Wednesday night. We shall see. I bought beads last week to add to it from the bead store next to Knitche, and internally, I groused a little bit at the price (I think this particular bead store is one of the more expensive ones, but they have nice stuff and they were right there, and anyway....) especially compared to the beads I got at a big box store for another project.
But! Grouse no more.
I haven't had to set aside a single bead yet because the hole is too small, or the bead wasn't formed right and is shaped more like a "C".
So.
We went down to Champaign-Urbana for the contra dance on Friday night. The Cosmic Otters played, and on Saturday morning, we went to the farmer's market for fresh real strawberries (not the kind they strip mine for grocery stores), asparagus and goat cheese with cracked pepper.
Edward, the Fool and our friend Ben earn a little gas (or in our case, goat cheese) money at the market. Ben's wife put a bunch of asparagus in their case to see if she could get more people to donate vegetables, but it didn't work.
When we got back, we worked in the garden and found out our strawberries are going gangbusters! I can't wait. Just a couple weeks, I bet, if the birds don't find them first. Or the Wee Gerries.
(Big Gerry, the woodchuck who lives in the greenhouses, continues his romantic conquests and has made another family this spring. The Wee Gerries are a pair of baby groundhogs, each about the size of a guinea pig, who hang around in the yard).
I think it's a mean trick to make the fourth-from-the-end row full of kf&bs, so I end up knitting an even longer row on the third from the end. I mean, the finish line is almost in sight! To wear this thing on Friday, I decided I have to have it blocking by Wednesday night. We shall see. I bought beads last week to add to it from the bead store next to Knitche, and internally, I groused a little bit at the price (I think this particular bead store is one of the more expensive ones, but they have nice stuff and they were right there, and anyway....) especially compared to the beads I got at a big box store for another project.
But! Grouse no more.
I haven't had to set aside a single bead yet because the hole is too small, or the bead wasn't formed right and is shaped more like a "C".
So.
We went down to Champaign-Urbana for the contra dance on Friday night. The Cosmic Otters played, and on Saturday morning, we went to the farmer's market for fresh real strawberries (not the kind they strip mine for grocery stores), asparagus and goat cheese with cracked pepper.
Edward, the Fool and our friend Ben earn a little gas (or in our case, goat cheese) money at the market. Ben's wife put a bunch of asparagus in their case to see if she could get more people to donate vegetables, but it didn't work.
When we got back, we worked in the garden and found out our strawberries are going gangbusters! I can't wait. Just a couple weeks, I bet, if the birds don't find them first. Or the Wee Gerries.
(Big Gerry, the woodchuck who lives in the greenhouses, continues his romantic conquests and has made another family this spring. The Wee Gerries are a pair of baby groundhogs, each about the size of a guinea pig, who hang around in the yard).
Comments
We ate some lovely asparagus this past weekend.
We have one HUGE chuck that has devestated my lettuce, peas, beats, carrots, tomatoes and beans. He saunters right past the humungo size baited trap and proceeds to devour everything. So I am searching for any and all ideas & tips. We've tried the repellants - they have no effect. The den entrances are located somewhere in an 85 degree slope with a 150 foot drop onto railroad tracks, so I can't plug them up or foul them with used cat litter. I'm about ready to concede victory to the rodent and give up.