We were spared the snow storm that affected southern New England and only saw a dusting of snow on Jay Mountain this morning. We caught the last of the season’s color on Friday before a gusty wind blew the remaining leaves off of most of our trees.
Last colorful hill
I have been up to my elbows in dog hair and don’t even have a dog. I am spinning some dog hair for a very dear friend. I am blending it with wool and think I am up to the last pile of it. I won’t be sad to see it leave the house. For some reason dog hair, which should be cleaner than sheep, alpaca or even wallaby, is less pleasant to work with. I find I always have a mild grimace on my face and try not to breathe too much through my nose, even though it’s been washed. When I was winding a large portion into a skein the other day, Tim’s head perked up, his nostrils flared and he kept swiveling around trying to figure what that smell was. A very dear friend.
A big gust blew most of the leaves off our white birch trees in one sweep. It wasn’t strong enough to knock down the wires but no worries, they are coming down anyway. Next week Tim and his brother are digging a 600 foot long ditch along our property so the power company can bury the lines which run in front of our house. I’ll be sure to take pictures. The scary part is, once they are underground, we own them, and have to be the ones to reconnect them to our house. I may be really off the grid next week.
Falling leaves and wires