News and Blog
Christine came by the stand to show us her Summer wool sweater knit with our worsted yarn in a naturally dyed Light Indigo elegantly trimmed with the Gray (looked like silver) Heather worsted. She knit it with large needles to let the garment breathe on these days that start chilly and warm as the sun comes up.
With her faded denims (an indigo tint too) she was perfectly attired for a morning of going about the stands shopping for Spring greens.
As many of you know Clara Parkes reviewed my yarn in this week's issue of her Knitter's Review; I am grateful to her for saying such nice things about the yarn, the farm and the sheep and for the response of her readership measured in yarn orders, in subscriptions to my newsletter, in Twitter follows and in blog comments to which I will begin to answer on Sunday after market in NYC.
And for those of you who don't know Clara and her site let me introduce you to her and her reviews of yarn and fiber books, her detailed description of fiber tools, her "How tos" section and most importantly the Knitter's Review Forums where you can ask or answer a question or read along with your knitting and always feel at home.
When I was a kid in the 50's I ate my fill of sweets, and then some, as did the kids I played with, and we weren't obese. But those sweets we filled up on primarliy contained sucrose, table sugar, not the cheaper, enzymatically processed high fructose corn syrup. Obesity is blamed on supersizing, but we ate to our fill back then, stuffed ourselves even. Times may change but kids are always kids.
As I have long suspected obesity is not caused by supersizing alone; it is caused by a drug mislabeled as a food, high fructose corn syrup, dangerous when taken even in moderate amounts. It's in almost everything the food corporations manufacture. I came across this in Wikipedia, "Critics of the extensive use of HFCS in food sweetening argue that the highly processed substance is more harmful to humans than regular sugar, contributing to weight gain by affecting normal appetite functions."
This is what drugs do, they affect normal functions.
Ban HFCS, get sugar cane from Cuba, raise sugar beets locally and let childern eat what they want, but also do as our parents did, force vegetables on them once a day. Children on diets, preposterous! To blame kids and punish them by holding back food, ridiculous; but that's what mom & dad do obeying the teachings of the governmental-corporate food complex, aka, the USDA, the FDA and their educational minions.
Remember Halloween! Nobody could have eaten more candy than we did; we were skinny kids with a big sweet tooth.
"One day, when reflections of this order had brought him once again to the memory of the time when some one had spoken to him of Odette as of a ‘kept’ woman, and when, once again, he had amused himself with contrasting that strange personification, the ‘kept’ woman—an iridescent mixture of unknown and demoniacal qualities, embroidered, as in some fantasy of Gustave Moreau, with poison-dripping flowers, interwoven with precious jewels—with that Odette upon whose face he had watched the passage of the same expressions of pity for a sufferer, resentment of an act of injustice, gratitude for an act of kindness, which he had seen, in earlier days, on his own mother’s face, and on the faces of friends; that Odette, whose conversation had so frequently turned on the things that he himself knew better than anyone, his collections, his room, his old servant, his banker, who kept all his title-deeds and bonds;—the thought of the banker reminded him that he must call on him shortly, to draw some money.
And indeed, if, during the current month, he were to come less liberally to the aid of Odette in her financial difficulties than in the month before, when he had given her five thousand francs, if he refrained from offering her a diamond necklace for which she longed, he would be allowing her admiration for his generosity to decline, that gratitude which had made him so happy, and would even be running the risk of her imagining that his love for her (as she saw its visible manifestations grow fewer) had itself diminished.
And then, suddenly, he asked himself whether that was not precisely what was implied by ‘keeping’ a woman (as if, in fact, that idea of ‘keeping’ could be derived from elements not at all mysterious nor perverse, but belonging to the intimate routine of his daily life, such as that thousand-franc note, a familiar and domestic object, torn in places and mended with gummed paper, which his valet, after paying the household accounts and the rent, had locked up in a drawer of the old writing-desk whence he had extracted it to send it, with four others, to Odette) and whether it was not possible to apply to Odette, since he had known her (for he never imagined for a moment that she could ever have taken a penny from anyone else, before), that title, which he had believed so wholly inapplicable to her, of ‘kept’ woman."
On Twitter (proustr) I follow Swann in Love 1913, Marcel Proust, translated by C. K. Scott Moncrieff. The first of these three sentences, delivered once an hour in approximate 140 character segments, began on May 16th at 0:38; the final sentence concluded on May 16th at 23:38, exactly 24 hours later.
At this pace, I can re-read & think through those woven Proustian sentences (or question the translation) anywhere I am being they're on my constant companion, my iPhone. I don't have to find the book and make the time or find a place on the N train uptown to read.
Cesare Pavese, translated by Geoffrey Brock
The lambs are under the trees near the pond after a shower. One sees colors like these only at this time of year. The greens of Summer are drier and more brittle even after a rain while those of the Fall are darker and silent.
This Saturday at the farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, take home some of our Lamb Jerky. "Be the first one on your block..."
Today was the day. We had to get the lambs down the hill from the lambing barn to the paddock of green grass we'd fenced for them to begin their Summer of rotational grazing. The grass was getting tall, taller than the smaller lambs; and it was starting to loose some of it's nutritive value, I feared. The way down was unfenced and the tall grass would trip the smaller lambs so with a 5' rotary cutter behind the old Massey I cut a 15' swath, a path wide enough for the 200 plus lambs.
But they needed a leader. From the lower farm, we took a yearling ewe; we haltered her, tied her down in the back of the truck, and for insurance Sarah rode with her holding on as I drove up the bumpy hill to the lambing barn.
We got the ewe off the truck and in with the lambs, so far so good.
In theory, Sarah was to shake a grain bucket to tempt the ewe with feed who would follow her and the lambs would follow the older ewe—or so I hoped—as would never the lambs follow us for any reason. After a couple of playful lamb revolutions in the yard with the chasing dog (that made me doubt my theory) we got the ewe started down the path following Sarah's bucket, the lambs began to follow the ewe down the hill—it worked—and I brought up the rear with Poem.
We ran into lamb number 120 today and she was walking like she'd never had a broken leg. Dominique cut the splint off her leg the Saturday before last. Success stories are good stories and there are never enough of them.