Home for the weekend

You may recognize the rock formations above as the Flatirons, in Boulder, Colorado. Because I am very, very old and grew up in a simpler, less population-dense time, this is part of the view that I woke up to every morning (although, being a couple miles away, we used to have a truly magnificent panorama of foothills—but the view out my old bedroom window has filled in with now-mature trees).

It’s really spoilt me for life. I’m very hard to please where scenery is concerned. New England is full of the picturesque, to be sure, if you like dairy farms and H.H. Richardson and that sort of thing, but for majesty and magnificence and commanding presence and emotional force... Well, you have to go west. Even a three-day-weekend dose of natural beauty is a powerful thing.

Above is my little fambly, on a “hike” at Chautauqua. My sister’s son will be three next month, so he doesn’t go all day, but he’s really kind of a trouper! We visited my sister’s native-plant nursery, Harlequin’s Gardens (which is located in northeast Boulder next to, by coincidence I assume, the clown school), where I got some sedums for my strawberry planter and a good hardy rosemary called Arp. (We packed them in a little insulated lunchbox, which gave airport security a laugh.) I had two Breadworks’ bread-pudding muffins, picked up some fantastic Silk Road (Drum Mountain White Cloud and Hairy Crab) teas, and went for a long walk past my old junior high every day. It was lovely to see everyone, and I remembered, as I always do when I head west, how I like life to be.

Thrift: Above is the forerunner to the Crockpot, the Nesco slow cooker, a hand-me-down from the very generous and knowledgeable Dave Sakowski of Magpie. This one was probably made in the early 30s, and as you can see, is a lovely blush color. There has been a struggle over it in my house; Joe feels it is simply too big for an objet of mere decoration, and I have agreed to use it in the garden, a la You Grow Girl, but... not yet! Pink enamel is a thing of beauty, and if it’s going to be a planter, it needs the right plant.

Knit: Finally, I expect to finish my Petit Chou bra tomorrow, when I hit the thrifts for an old bra to cannibalize hardware from. And then we will have the promised errata!