I hereby declare December 1 National Blog Amnesty Day. Wayward bloggers around the country, I encourage you to seek forgiveness, wipe the slate clean, and blog anew. That's what I'm doing today.

So much has happened since my last post, and even before that. All sorts of stories and pictures that were planned but never came to fruition. I'm not even going to bother bringing you up to date here, since dreading that task is what has kept me from returning to this blog. But if you're curious what I did this fall, here's where you can read my full reports:

• Spin-Off Autumn Retreat
  
• New York State Sheep and Wool Festival
  
  and finally...
  
  
• the 2004 Knitter's Review Retreat.

And now, according to Rule 1, Section 3, Paragraph B of the International Blog Amnesty Code, I am hereby released from any guilt and free to begin anew. Digging further into the IBAC, I see that Rule 3, Section 12, Subparagraph L specifies that one's first update upon returning need not be an epic post to compensate for previous silence. (You really should look more closely at the code—there are all sorts of good things in there.)

I will, however, show you some pictures.

First, our first snowstorm of the season as seen from my upstairs office. (Not to be confused with my new office building, hereafter referred to as HQ.)

As you can see, it's pretty... un-green.

After a lengthy battle, I've finally surrendered to winter—which is good since that's where we're headed. This was my sixth fall in New England, and I think the newness of the move is finally giving way to a more realistic, cautious optimism. Nothing smacks you back to your senses like a winter in Maine.

Meanwhile, here's a picture of Casey doing his impersonation of a flying supercat, but with his eyes closed and resting on a soft blanket. He does this for several hours a day to perfect his technique. What a tough life.

I know I'm always complaining about spam, but this is unbelievable. I've just gotten access to mail stats for my site, and Knitter's Review receives on average 15,000 emails a day. The percentage of those that are valid emails is between 100 and 150.

Is that insane or what?!

Too much talk—let's get back to the pictures!




Here are some of the strawberries from this year's garden... as well as a shot of what I did with them. Delicious, delicious, delicious.

And in other news to be elaborated on later, here's where the Knitter's Review offices are moving this fall! The downstairs is where my summer shop is located, and the upstairs is where the offices will be. It's the same building where Wooden Boat Magazine was founded many many years ago, and it used to house a knitting and weaving shop, so it's got good history.

Life in a nutshell...

No, I haven't dropped off the face of the earth, although I've wanted to lately! So sorry for not updating here more often. I think I've finally discovered the limits of what I can do, and unfortunately the blog had to get put aside.

Summer is visitor season in Maine, during which time every member of my near and distant family comes to stay for several weeks. It's also shop season, during which time I add a full-time shopkeeper job to my already full plate.

Then this year it was deer season as well, when I stopped to let three deer cross the road and a drunk, speeding lobsterman whammed my car from behind. The car should take about six weeks to repair, and the frame was bent, which means no matter what repairs they do, the car won't be the same. That whole episode has been extremely jarring and upsetting on many levels, and I still can't drive without breaking a cold sweat when I see (or think I see) an animal by the road.

The garden has fared beautifully. The strawberries were the most delicious I've ever, ever tasted. Lettuce and spinach have been plentiful. The green beans are ready to be picked, and the basil is dying to be made into pesto. Next are the tomatoes, weather permitting. So that coyote urine -- regardless of how it was extracted -- is doing the trick.

Even now as I write this, a customer has just come into the shop and expecting my undivided attention -- so I must cut my update short. But I am here, and I will write more later!