Thank you all so much for your compliments on Audrey's socks. They were a fun knit and it's pleasing to hear that you all liked them.
Now a confession: I'm a big slacker (ha, as if THAT wasn't already apparent).
And a wannabe.
I asked La last week for a letter for my own Alpha-Meme, and I have yet to post the results. Sorry, La. Mostly I've been editing and re-editing, trying not to sound like a complete dork, but my writing has pretty much sucked lately. But I think I'm ready.
I promise not to subject you to too much Ravishing Ridiculousness. Or assonance, either.
My letter: R
I could sing the praises of raspberries for weeks. There is nothing like a sun-warmed raspberry, right off the vine. I'm especially partial to the raspberry crop that comes ripe in September. I have to freeze up a half flat every year just so I can make it through the winter. These are from this fall's farmer's market.
Tart but mellifluous, rhubarb's gotten a bad racket. My grandmother makes the most amazing strawberry-rhubarb pie. Tart and sweet, together 4-ever.
I aspire to this, but really I'm a little too rotund to qualify.
We used to live within staggering distance of this great Tiki bar in Seattle. This is where I learned the beauty of the fruity drinks. And I'm not talking about some sad, crappy Mai Tai, either. This was the real deal. Fresh juice, tartness balanced with sweet, and enough booze to kill a goose.
I went on to purchase Beachbum Berry's Grog Log, which looks like it was self-published using a lot of free tiki graphics and some skull mugs, but it's also an excellent Fruity Rum Drink recipe book. This books spends a while discussing the intricacies of rum. There's way more than your standard white, tasteless Bacardi. Light vs. Dark, Jamaican, Puerto Rican, Cuban, Rum de Martinique, Rhum Barbancourt, ... it's as if every tiny island in the Caribbean has their own, special version. Not to mention the weird English mixes. Yohoho and pass the pineapple!
Despite being all Mediterrean and crap, rosemary grows very well here in wet-winter, dry-summer land, only dying back when the temp drops below 20 F. Versatile, easy to grow, and fantastically scented, rosemary's one of my favorite herbs. Mmmm, rosemary bread.
Ruler & rotary cutter
The most wonderful inventions that the quilt world has seen since the iron. You can have my precise ruler and sharp-enough-to-slice-through-8-layers-of-fabric-or-maybe-your-finger rotary cutter when you pry them out of my cold, dead hands.
Such a common name for a tasty, tasty baked good. I make these about once a year. They're an ode to the fact that Fat Makes Everything Taste Better. Like fudge, you DO NOT WANT to see what goes in these. They're similar to croissants, but more plainspoken. The secret is in the overnight rise in the fridge. And the butter, of course.
I can't really say I have a favorite color. I go through color crushes. During last year I was on some kind of green kick. And then recently it's been orange and pink and even a little grey.
But the color I'm most likely to make a beeline for is red. Scarlet, brick, crimson, ruby, apple, fantastic red! For the last 6 months I've been fantasizing about dying some silk in several dark shades of red. There's a certain shade of Alchemy Bamboo I have to RIP myself away from every time I pass by.
Portland's nickname is the City of Roses, for a natural climate that roses love (with a little extra watering in the summer). Although not a "rose gal" per se, they're in my garden and I love to look, smell, and photograph them. This beauty is from the International Rose Test Gardens.
I'll take the Fifth (of rum! hhahahahaha)