Squirreling Away

It has been a great summer so far.  Lazy days intermingle with busy days, both flying by far too quickly.  Spending time with friends and family, enjoying the company of both.

Some, I know, are preparing for the cooler days ahead with canning, pickling, preserving, jamming.  As much as I love seeing other people's jars all lined up on shelves, I am just not a  canning/jamming/pickling person.  Even as I was reading my book last night, I read a passage in which the woman was taking stock of her pantry with a deep satisfaction.  "I counted over my hoard like a squirrel reckoning nuts, and felt soothed by our abundance." (Drums of Autumn, Diana Gabaldon)  As I read of Claire's rows of potatoes, jars of dried tomatoes and braids of onion and garlic, for a brief moment I felt her satisfaction and thought, "maybe next year."  Then I shook my head and realized I really didn't want to preserve food, as much as I appreciate the act itself.

But there is one thing I  am doing to prepare for the cold days of autumn and winter.  And again, this activity is mentioned in the same book but it is not Claire with whom I share this activity but the brawny Jamie.  Apparently, both Jamie and I can knit a mean pair of socks.

A recently finished pair 

in progress

to be mended

 Not that I particularly like darning socks but I set about learning how to properly do it last fall after finding that wooden sock mushroom (at least I think that is what it is called) at an antique shop.  It makes me feel very grounded to mend my own hand knit socks.

It may not be nuts but in my own way, I am squirreling away for the winter days to come.  (I know I just said the "w" word.  My deepest apologies to those I have reminded.)

**  A little aside:  I have begun listing soaps in my Etsy shop  here if you feel so inclined to take a peek.  Soaps are being added slowly as I find quiet moments during the day . . . and evening.