AfricanKelli

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Tall Lady’s officially gone loca. Not only has she decided making me a costume to reflect one of my namesakes — Willie Nelson — is the funniest thing ever, but she painted on a unibrow for yet another Halloween.

First, yes. This is me as Willie Nelson. I know. I know. I’m damn cute. What you should be glad you can’t see is my alarmingly increasing midsection. I actually conned Tall Lady out of a portion of a rotisserie chicken to sit for these photos. It’s not my fault. I showed up at the Heirloom Homestead underfed — ribs visible. The vet told Tall Girl to “feed that dog!” and she has done a great job. Thank God I don’t have to fit into skinny jeans, or any jeans for that matter.

I just hope she doesn’t decide to shave me anytime soon. My girth is hidden fairly well with all this fur, especially the dark fur. Uncle Cody had the nerve to call me “chubby” this afternoon. CHUBBY.

There is enough sorrow with that to make a dog want to write a sad, slow country song.

I may be a drag-dog, but I’m no fool. Dress up? Really? We’ve gotten to this pathetic point of the year after one minor snow? Friends, we may need alpine rescue around here pronto, and it will have nothing to do with being snowed in and everything to do with Tall Lady’s boredom and me as her sole focus of craft.

Help.

In other news — she decided yet again that Frida Kahlo was the right costume choice.

Never mind all the other girls at the party went as cheerleaders, sexy nuns, and pretty much any other costume that doesn’t require emphasizing one’s facial hair. Those are also the girls who went home with boyfriends. Tall Lady? She came home with a glue gun and a mission: the Willie Nelson costume!

At least Uncle BJ was creative. He’s a black eye pea. Get it? Fergalicious!

Happy Howl-oween, amigos. Don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.

~Willie Nelson Mandela

The snow is melting, leaving behind a trail of mud. Nelson has never been happier. I have never had less balance. Mud, ice, snow and thud. I need to invest in a pair of trail runners.

We trekked through Boulder County for a couple hours this morning, winding around the pointy orange teeth of a mountain chain that sits just west of the city. Collegiate cross country teams zipped around us, using the trail system for a draconian training tool.

Sadly, the giant tree at the Heirloom Homestead — that silver maple ash that is more than a century old – didn’t weather the storm well. Huge branches split leaving the towering beauty to resemble a weepy willow.

Otherwise, we are ready for the next snow. And I’m getting used to living with dirty floors. Paw prints on the hardwood is now a sign of home.

~K

I’m working through my yarn stash to whip up a few gifts. (Not going to lie: it is a lot more fun to work with wool when there is snow on the ground.)

Also not going to lie: it is going to be a lot more fun to knit now that I have a model who works for treats:

Doesn’t he look thrilled?

Actually, now that I look at him — he looks like he needs a haircut.

~K

I woke up to a blanket of snow. It is a heavy storm, but a warm one. We are expecting 6-10 inches, which should be gone by tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, Nelson and I are using the weather as a reason to stay inside, get a few projects completed and spend some time with our friend — the couch.

There is something magical about the first snow of the season; you can’t help be be optimistic for such a fresh start to every change in life.

~K

Yesterday was a national “Food Day” — a time to encourage Americans to improve their food choices and physical activity for a healthier citizenry. Of course, this is my cup of tea. The celebration in Denver was hosted at the botanical gardens with a day full of courses, lectures and other activities.

With work, I was able to swing through one class in the evening — “Canning like your life depends on it.” Holy pickles and sauerkraut — I could not have lucked out more. Lead by local business owner Milan Doshi, the course discussed basic canning and fermentation techniques.

For this sustainability-loving domestic dork, it was so, so cool to be a room of like-minded folk, scribbling notes. Pickles are not so hard to can. Who knew? And sauerkraut? I can do this. I’m not sure I want to do it. The instructions included both the words “scum” and “burping,” but now I could if I wanted to.

Milan’s company — Five Points Fermentation — is leading a local culture change. He encourages people to research their family food history and to honor this with their cooking choices. Listening to him speak, with his adoring Indian mama sitting by his side, was enchanting. He talked of the shelves of pickles he’d eat as a kid visiting India — each jar made with love by his grandmothers. Each jar including some spice or vegetable was was in bounty on canning day.

It is so lovely to hear enthusiastic business owners honoring their families and their communities with their work. And of course, this means pickles for Christmas. I can’t wait to get going…

~K