Cement Joy!

front of the building, with a frame out thingy for the garage door.

The second pour happened this past week! Hooray! Who knew an 8" thick foundation wall could be so very joy making.

the right front corner, the door will be that smaller rectangle frame out.

Another corner! check out the sexy plywood imprint. Watch out Whitney museum, our concrete rocks!

B's new scarf!

Just in time for the turn of the season. I used a noro silk/wool blend yarn instead of my usual hand spun. My spinning wheel is still in storage along with my stash. Sigh.

gratuitous rooster picture

got a new obsession

Moss.
I love it.

Teacups.
I have too many.

moss.

I suddenly felt like I was being watched

results of the bear incident

I was in Brooklyn when the incident happened. This may have been a good thing for all involved. We have a thriving hive that got knocked down by a bear one night, in spite of the electric fence. B scared off the bear and harvested a frame when he put the stacks back right. You notice how dry that previous sentence is. You may also notice that I'm not saying anything about the epi pen. But everyone was okay, (bear pride excluded) in the end. And we got some lovely honey.
In the picture on the left you can see our lovely rooster. He's a nice guy! And was pretty curious to see if the honey was a snack for him. 

he's such a looker.

the footer

It begins.
B poured the footer yesterday. I alas was here working on departmint. Forms for the walls are next! I've never been so excited about concrete in my entire life. But wait, that's not quite true. There was one other time......
When I was in kindergarten we lived close enough to our school to walk. I was very proud when I was finally allowed to walk 'by myself'  My older sister (by two years) was supposed to walk home with me, but we got into some kind of kurfuffle. Reason long unremembered.  I ran on ahead, right into a newly poured sidewalk. I swear the concrete went right up to my knee.
When confronted by the super scary guy in the helmet I pulled my foot out, sans shoe and ran (wee wee wee) all the way home. The one thing I clearly remember, besides what it's like to run home with a sock full of wet cement, was my true and terrible fear about how angry my mom would be when she found out about my sock. Go figure.