The Sweatshop of Love Blog

I woke up this morning with a huge man in my bed.

I had to take pictures because it might never happen again.

Arnold is the loudest purrer I have ever heard. Waking up with all like 20 pounds of him on my chest, purring like a motor boat, I thought I might have somehow been run over by a car in my sleep, only to wake up with it still running and on top of me. But, it was just Arnold, looking for a morning cuddle, which I was more than happy to return. I miss my babies.

So here I am at Biggby Coffee, which, after having been sitting here for two hours, is a lot bigger than it needs to be.

It was me and these dudes when I got here at about 8:30. Now there are two other people here with computers, one guy with a broken arm, and two old women drinking mochas. The internet is fast (maybe relatively, everything moves kinda slow up here), and they have six different kinds of self serve coffee. 16 oz for $1.90 and all the internet I could ever want? I’ll take it! I’ve been uploading pictures with reckless abandon all morning.

I kinda took yesterday off. I woke up early because it is freaking cold here and the tent was not warm. I moved to the living room with a blanket, a cup of tea, and Chocolat, which I’m loving. But, again, we picked a book for Knitting Book Club that everyone will agree is excellent! I can’t imagine anyone not liking it, it is just universally appealing. I read half the book yesterday, between naps, the Tigers game (on real TV! It was awesome), more naps, and eating. Breakfast was lemon yogurt with fresh raspberries and raisin bran, with an English muffin with peanut butter. I love that my mom has yogurt around all the time! It is nice to mix up oats now and then.

I couldn’t have been more excited to see some pumpernickel bread in the bread basket, and I quickly decided on a Swiss, (Mommy) cucumber, and roasted red pepper hummus sandwich on toasted pumpernickel. Amazing! The Swiss and the pumpernickel should be best friends forever.

My baby brother Matthew and I were watching the Tigers game, and I must have dozed off, because when I looked over at him he was eating this sandwich.

“Shit, dude, when did you make that sandwich?”

“Just now.”

“What’s in it?”

“Two eggs, ham, cheese, and spicy Doritos.”

I love him.

My mom picked up this asparagus strudel  on her road trip around Lake Michigan with my dad last week (yeah, it’s weird), and it was awesome! PT and I had a savory strudel in the winter that his mom gave us, so I was all about it. The asparagus was tender and very juicy and the herb-cheese was perfect. I biked over and picked up some fresh corn sometime when I wasn’t sleeping, and it was a perfect accompaniment.

I also, over the course of the day, had three pieces of cherry pie with ice cream. 4-7 pounds, y’all!

I also finished my socks yesterday. I guess I wasn’t as big of a bum as I thought I was. They turned out so cute! I even got my mom to start her first pair of toe up socks! She is using size threes instead of size 2s, so I’ll have to keep an eye on her. I would hate for them to be too big when I’m sitting right next to her and could stop them from being too big.

AND I was glancing through my new Vogue Knitting Magazine and found this sweater. How cute is that?! I need to knit it. Yes, I see the seed stitch front, and the seed stitch edging. I’m pretending I don’t. It can’t be that much, right? I don’t care. I must knit this jacket.

I’m going to go buy a cookie, because I’m on vacation. I’m going to chill here at my new favorite coffee shop in Allendale for a couple more hours, then I’m headed over to the g-rents to make some peanut butter pies for the week.

Oh. Oh yes. More about those later.

You know that moment when you realize people think you are weird? Before that moment you think everyone is like you. You think everyone likes to lay in fields to let bugs crawl on them and watch old black and white movies with their moms and hand sew Barbie clothes out of quilt squares.

We moved into this house when I was five. Isn’t it cute? But, I was the girl who lived in the log cabin who didn’t go to church. I come back and I’m still that girl. I still don’t like leaving the compound while I’m here, despite being a grown woman.

But why would I want to leave? This is my tent.

These are my puppies.

The ducks, making a run for it around the barn.

This is Pete the Llama! I kept telling him to get the hay out of his teeth for the picture but he said he liked it and was going to eat it later. What can I say? He lives in a barn.

Marshall the Goat wears a dog collar attached to a long rope tied to the clothes line because he is a very bad goat that likes to escape and eat the neighbor’s garden. This is quite a feat since the neighbor’s garden is quite a walk.

The ducks, who wander free, like to torture Marshall the Goat by playing very close to him, but just out of reach, so Marshall runs up to them, only to have the rope snap him back. This is what you get when you are a very bad goat.

My mom has scoped out areas around the house that get the most sun and planted there. The house is mostly covered by trees so there isn’t a lot of room. But the tomatoes and cucumbers are thriving! I spent yesterday morning watering in my bare feet with the animals.

Arnold came out to see what I was up to. He is a hunter and spends a lot of time wandering through the woods, eating bunnies, squirrels, and birds.

But he is so cute you don’t mind he is a ruthless killer.

My uncle died last summer and his ashes are in this corner, with Uncle Dave’s, who has been there for a while. It’s a really nice spot to have your ashes, I think, and they get visits by ducks and cats and dogs and people.

2/3 of me thinks: I’d be really happy here if I were dead, too. 1/3 of me thinks: I’d be really happy here. My little brother is looking at buying cute brick houses on some land for like $60,000. If I could figure out a way to make money living in a cute brick house around here with land so I could garden and have chickens and not need to interact with anyone, 33% of me would jump at the chance. That is, like, a leg.

I would really need a way to make money that didn’t involve anyone else, though, considering I’m still a total freak to everyone who lives here. So I like killing babies, taxes, gays, and socialized health care! Does that make me a bad person?

… yeah, I can’t live here.