Amo, Amas, Amat

I remember in high school Latin class, the verb “to love” was the first verb that we learned to conjugate as we struggled to master those tricky declensions. In fact, I’m pretty sure that in every class for every language I’ve taken (Spanish, Latin, French), the verb “to love” was always in the top 5 “verbs to learn first”.  “To love” is an easy one. Everyone knows what it means. Every foreign language teacher that I have had would inevitably start a class conversation surrounding our favorite things and we’d spend the class rattling off sayings like “j’taime croissant avec chocolat”. So here is a bit of a ode to the unromantic side of love; to the things that make me smile and keep me going the whole year round.

Scones, Clotted Cream, and Jam reminds me that some of life’s best things come in the form of baked goods.

Chai Tea at Alice’s Teacup always keeps me warm.

Alices Tea Cup (NYC Upper West Side). One of my favorite cozy spots in this sprawling city.

Pumpkin-y Sweets. Good food prepared by good friends = love.

Icicles on the roof against blue skies. Is there anything more striking?

Bali’s contented face. Nothing beats a nap in the sun with my favorite furry friend.

Snowy Solitude. Our little block is ever so peaceful after a heavy snowfall.

Snow! Even as an adult, it’s still fun to romp around in the fluffy white stuff.

Sienna the Wonderpug. Her hilarious little mug and curly tail make me want to squeeze her despite all protests.

Colour

I love color. I love colour – spelled with a “u” everywhere else except the US, it seems.

I love deeply pigmented, saturated colors. I could rather do without pastels and those various other hues that are wishy-washy and can’t seem to make up their mind as to what shade of purple or green or red they will be. Eggplant purples. Emerald greens. Suburst oranges. Midnight sky blues. Colors that you could dive into they are so deep and rich.

Spirit Trail Fibers in "Harvest"

The 2009 Rhinebeck NY Sheep and Wool Show was fantastic, if a bit overwhelming for a newcomer like myself. The whole place was a riotous palette of color from wool, to buttons, to ribbon, to pots of dye. There were richly hued hand-spun wools dyed from natural plant extracts that produced such vivid feasts for the eyes. Even the browns, whites, and greys of the animals were appealing as they rolled about in hay. Of course, one can hardly fail to mention the foliage! It’s hard not to spend a good deal of time craning your neck towards the sky to take in the massive spread of leafy canopies as you drive and drive and drive along the NY interstate. It’s magnificent the way those fiery colors are illuminated against the backdrop of clear blue, cloudless skies. You’d think you’d happened upon some large conflagration of sorts with all of those yellows, reds, and oranges – pure and beautiful and profoundly natural in a world where most beauty is fabricated. Now it won’t be Autumn for me without the anticipation of a trip to Rhinebeck, the explosion of Northeastern Fall foliage, and the smells of wet leaves, wood smoke, and hand-spun wool.

It's just not a fair without the Kettle Corn

A little trim before the judging.

A ram if I ever saw one.

Goats, too!

For the Honeybee Cardigan

Someone's going to need to wind all that yarn...

Socks that Rock

Cormo wool

A drop spindle and roving for yet another hobby