I woke up this morning at 6. I made pickles. I still smell like pickles; you can’t get that smell out of your hands. Like garlic. Or lemon.
Pickles are not something you make by yourself. Making pickles is ridiculous, and Oliver and Batley just didn’t appreciate the ridiculousness of making pickles at 6am to the extent I needed them to.
And I did something stupid.
Work? No Thanks, I'll Start A Sweater
I started the Vogue Cropped Jacket. Yesterday. As you can see, I made some progress, because I don’t want to do anything but knit this sweater. I didn’t even turn my computer on at all yesterday. Get this! I READ THE PAPER to get scores. I felt like such an old dude.
Seed St Bottom, Bell St Body
My mom and I ran to Hobby Lobby yesterday morning, through torrential rain, to pick up Lion Brand Fishermen’s Wool in the dark tweed, and of course I can’t just sit and do some actual work, like I’m supposed to be doing, I have to start my sweater, and not stop working on it for one moment.
Isn’t it pretty?
I’m at Biggby this morning. Made pickles, came to Biggby. I’ve been sitting here for about an hour and a half now; I’m the only one sitting, and I 3 couples have come and gone. Sunday morning in Allendale is not a big morning for coffee, apparently. And everyone has said the exact same thing:
Coffee Guy: Morning!
Man: It’s a hot one out there!
Coffee Guy: Iced coffee? Haha!
Man and Woman: Haha!
Woman: Iced ___________
(Coffee Guy makes drink): This will help you stay cool!
Man: We’ll need it! Haha!
Woman and Coffee Guy: Haha!
Have I mentioned how much I love it here? I got a small coffee, and when I moseyed over to the self serve area I found the Michigan Cherry medium roast. Halla! It is delightful.
'Sunday' Dinner
I’m extraordinarily lucky to have grandparents I’m very close to and that live 15 minutes away from my parents. They have been coming over on Sunday afternoons to eat a huge meal and play cards for as long as I can remember. We moved our Sunday meal up a day this weekend because today is supposed to be 95 degrees and my parents don’t have air conditioning in the cabin. The ‘Sunday’ dinner spread was my papa’s potato salad, which is the best potato salad in the entire world and has spoiled me away from every other potato salad there is, that huge fruit salad, grilled potatoes, and grilled lemon pepper chicken.
And please take a moment to stare with amazement at my mom’s table runner! She knit that with her yarn scraps. The contrast of that table runner on the dark wood immediately catches your eye and lights up the entire room.
My Plate
Here is a closer look at her work! And my plate. I had a heeping serving of both potato salad and potatoes, with ketchup, and a few pieces of the grilled chicken. And a lot of fruit salad! The fruit salad had watermelon, blueberries, nectarines, early apples, and apricots all from Michigan, and grapes, but I’m not sure where the grapes came from.
I whipped up the marinate from the chicken with the zest of four lemons, the juice of 6 lemons, maybe a tablespoon of olive oil, and a whole lot of pepper.
(And my mom is going to kill me, but I have to point out that the woman uses paper plates, paper bowls, and beautiful hand made by her cloth napkins. The ridiculousness of that is exactly why I love my mother so much. Of course she would use the napkins she made because they are beautiful and look great with the table runner she made, but she doesn’t want to wash all those dishes. It’s logical and ridiculous.)
I also finished my second Two Texture Mitten in 24 hours, because today is my grandma’s birthday and I wanted to give them to her. Unfortunately my camera ran out of batteries and the battery charger is at home, so I won’t be able to take a picture of them, of her, or of the brunch we are about to have at The Peppermill Grill, (Papa: The Butter Wagon, The Butterball. Dad: The Buttermill. Matthew: The Butterbutt – I don’t know where they all got butter from) which has a yelp page now! But no reviews. (cough, PT, cough)
Church Wear: A dude in his early 20s just walked into Biggby wearing tan flip flops, white cargo shorts with a newspaper sticking out of his back pocket, a tan fabric belt, a black button down with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a silver tie. Oh! And he ordered an iced peanut butter cup latte.
I’ve got to pack up quick if I’m going to catch him before he jumps back into the Jeep Grand Cherokee he took the time to back into a parking spot for a 30 second stop at the coffee shop!
