“Hurricane” Party at Floyd’s


Okay, Fay wasn’t a hurricane. But we had a good time. And Andrea drank beer through a straw.

Here, we’ve just set up on the patio. Tom is in sound check mode. Hey, it’s a banjo.





Here’s bass player Dave getting his hair blown off. Can you see the wind? It wasn’t THAT bad, I guess, but the wind made enough racket to be considered a bandmate.

Pigment on the hoof

At the dog fennel store on this rainy morning



They won’t let me touch ’em, but they come runnin’ for a treat. And dog fennel…oooh baby, that’s one of their favorite weeds. Look at those lips go!





Here you can see Holly’s new bump. When she knocked off that little horn, we freaked! But Margrett pulled us out of the panic mode in about 1 minute. On the bright side, it’s really easy to tell the girls apart, now.

sweater & socks. soon.

This yarn, all 1200 yards of 2-ply Gulf Coast Native that I spindlespun from a Running Moon Farm fleece, was meant to be Tom’s sweater last winter. However, along came another fleece, a flock mate, if you please, and well, the color was just perfect for him…and I started to analyze the yarn, and looked back at all the samples I’d knit…and, of course, there was something to be desired. Soooooo, I decided…to start spinning again.

I’ve been bad, kids. I have spun one spindleful. Had the best of intentions, I really did. But summer came and that was that. The gardens just suck up the ol’ time. And now, I look at the calendar, and it’s going on the end of August. And, well, Christmas is just around the corner, isn’t it? 


This is the stuff. Here’s my one measly spindleful. It’s lovely, it really is.

I just have to look at it with a fair amount of focus. The stuff is soft, and so brown, such a luscious chocolate brown…how can I resist. Tom is going to be just thrilled come the cold weather. And boy will he look great!

Ok, then. I’m ready. Starting, say, tomorrow. After the rest of the peas are planted. Ahem.


This, well, this is some delightful stuff. This was a gift from a spinner who is moving to this neck of the woods. She loves to blend fiber. This roving is Gulf Coast lamb, bamboo, silk, and kid mohair.

I thought, shoot, this would be awesome dyed with Virginia creeper. Then I thought…aw, wait for the woad. Then I thought, look at the sheen of the natural fiber – it’s kind gorgeous just the way it is.

It’s still roving. Some one of these days, it will be socks. For me. Dyed. Or not.

a different kind of wooly

peruvian brown

peruvian brown

Sustainable agriculture implies a long term integrated system that will satisfy food and fiber needs while being kind to the environment. We try. Our freezers are full. The canner has had a big fat workout. We rotate our crops and pastures. And we try to do no harm.

This year, we started to grow colored cotton. Brown and green. Phreadde gave me some long staple white pima, but I heard so much talk about cotton being the slut of the garden that I decided that we really only had room for 2 varieties. Now, I read somewhere that you need to grow a 20′ x 20′ patch of cotton if you want enough fiber to weave, say, enough cloth to make a shirt. Let’s just say, we have a way to go on that score. But, it’s a start.

On the other hand, wool. Ah. Easy to grow. Ahem. Easy to spin, dye, weave, knit…you name it. Feels good. Keeps you warm. Keeps you dry. I got hooked on Gulf Coast Native Sheep a few years ago, and have been buying fleece from Running Moon Farm in Dry Creek, Louisiana ever since. And now, well, synchronicity strikes again. Twins were born half an hour away, we were contacted, asked if we would like to buy them. And now we have our own fleece machines.

We’d never given cotton much thought. But…my husband is a historic restoration guy. And his research said…this was the land of cotton and indigo. So…why not. That seems appropriate, then, to grow cotton. It’s a beautiful plant. I can’t wait to see some actual cotton!

fuzzy rumpuses

Today, it rained. Yesterday, it rained. It’s been raining a lot. The girls like to stand in the rain sometimes, or lay down under the trees, and sometimes they go into their barn and hang out. When their fleece is wet, it parts down the middle. Today, I noticed that their fleece is about 3 1/2 inches long. For being born on April 24, and living in a climate like this…90 degree weather and all…I am just amazed.