snowball fight!

Here's my snowball. where's yours?

On Saturday DH and I took a road trip to visit my Brother, my dear SIL and my mother, who is ninety something. My dad would be turning 100 this year if he were still alive. My brother is 72. I, of course, am just about 21 and still as fresh and strong and lovely as ever.

This is the country where I grew up. Lots of sky, lots of view, and not much else. It got so you knew every tumbleweed by it's first name. Central Oregon is a stinking desert, and as soon as I moved to the verdant valley, I put down my roots and GREW!!

(oh, and for my Aussie friends, those snowcapped peaks are the Three Sisters. Not much like the sisters outside of Sydney.)


On Sunday, DH and I went to the local farmer's market. Not too much in the way of edibles yet, but the flowers are blooming beautifully! I even saw black Irises being carried away. The usual potters and bakers and jewelers are in their usual locations, the usual people were wandering around with their usual dogs, the band was a group of old hippies called "Bodacious", playing guitars and singing home-grown 60s rock and roll. ANd doing a grand job of it, too! DH bought me a bag of kettle corn, and a cup of mango sorbet. It was yummy!

Today, Monday, we are going grocery shopping, then meeting friends for lunch, then heading home to continue playing with our new toys. I still haven't put my new sewing machine away. I keep sewing smaller and smaller scraps together and getting led merrily astray. What to do with a 24 inch square pieced bit that is just lovely and doesn't go with anything in my house? I'll come up with something if I just keep sewing.