August is the years golden child.  From Sorrels butter to the Solidago spotted sides of the highway, we are in it.  It is muggy with a hint of autumn.  It is savor every warm breeze and take note of every cool one.  It is eyes on the sky wondering when you will hear the familiar southward honking… knowing the time will come soon enough.  It is float the river every chance you get.  It is prepare the woolens for the time is near.  I love August.  Even my never ever weeded garden is grand and bountiful.

I am deep in the land of decisions I am wondering what type of schedule I want to abide by this season.  I am contemplating penciling in a whole bunch of close by nothings.  Committing ourselves to home and each other.  Oh, with the exception of utilizing Vermont’s ten free hours of daycare.  It turns out three-year olds do not appreciate 6 and 7 year old activities all the time and I like to think he would enjoy a few hours each week spent in a room dedicated to him.  Not to mention I could certainly use a break.  Eiter way  I have plans to spend our days building fire pits, and learning to cook, and leading library story hours.  I have omitted expensive and attractive classes in hopes that we will feel the seasons offerings with a bit more peace about us.  But of course, I am allowing myself the possibility to change my mind completely!

It is hard to tell what type of schedule we thrive in for sure.  At least as a collective whole.  We will try this one on for size and get back to you soon:)

The roving is hand washed and carded on a drum carder.  It is my neighbors Icelandic which I love. It is ethereal and shiny and still sticky with lanolin.  I believe it will spin up to be perfect thrummed mittens for all.  The yarn in the dye bath is puffin by quince and co and is being dyed in amaranthus and cosmos.