What Possessed Me

Dinner at Brian's: Blue Hour

Blue Hour is diary of photography, food, and a life in Brooklyn. Like the l'heur bleue itself, the mood Brian sets with his beautiful photographs and his quiet, companionable voice is incredibly calming and serene.

Suddenly, I am craving root vegetable hash.

 

Perhaps I'll try my hand at making butter.

Or Irish soda bread.

Did I mention that Brian lives in my neighborhood? And that he should invite me over for his next dinner party? Every party needs someone who can beatbox, Bri. THINK ABOUT IT.

(In the comments section, I would like you to comment on whether I have taken blog stalking to the next level by shamelessly inviting myself over to dinner at a complete stranger's house.)

The weavery

Every residence in this community has beautifully woven textiles.  Where do they come from? Where can I find something like this? I become slightly unhinged when I find out that there is a weavery where residents can learn how to card, spin, dye and weave their own textiles using products from the farm.

Each one is more beautiful than the last. I tell Fauxhawk he can leave me there. I think I could be happy spinning my days away.

They call me "Frolics With Sows"

Fauxhawk's sissy is a part of a farming and handcrafting community in Pennsylvania that includes adults with developmental disabilities. It's a wonderfully vibrant, creative place that tries as much as possible to be self-sustaining and ecologically responsible.

Before we arrived, I made my expectations clear. Fauxhawk was on the program, so when his sister asked us what we wanted to do, he said (in a slightly over-enthusiastic way), "WE WANT TO SEE BABY ANIMALS!"

Off we went. Though there were no piglets in sight, their mamas came over to say hi.

 

The girls were all charm.  We hit it off immediately, commiserating about itchy dry skin, winter weight gain, and facial hair. Fauxhawk, whose mother raised a pig every year, ingratiated himself by scratching their backs with a garden rake. ECSTASY.

Two black lambs and a herd of sheep wanted nothing to do with us. It took all of my self control not to hop the fence and cuddle a lamb, but I did manage to make a little friend, who suckled my fingers and nuzzled my camera lens.

I have a soft spot for donkeys - they always look so long-suffering and miserable. These two forgot to take their Prozac and moped around quite a bit. DO SOMETHING CUTE, YO! C'MON!

They did everything in unison and had the fuzziest, most perfectest ears.