When I Close My Eyes I See Crimson and Gold

So I turned 35 last week. And since I am now halfway to 70, I decided it was high time I started venturing into the world of old lady hobbies. Like knitting.

Actually knitting is in vogue right now, I think. And I learned to knit not only so that I'll be the belle of the ball at the senior center someday, but also because I was in serious need of a scarf. A Gryffindor scarf, to be exact.

I think I am going to like being an old lady because I find that I enjoy toting around a knitting bag and pulling out my scarf project whenever the opportunity to knit presents itself. I still can't quite get my knitting needles to click and clack just right, but I am working on it. I do have 35 more years until I hit 70.

We were up in Portland last weekend (go Timbers!) and the boys got to use Sharpies for the first time in their lives. It is a known fact that all teachers abhor Sharpies and cringe at the thought of arming small people with such weapons of mass graffiti.

Turns out my kids are more responsible than the average middle schooler.

Do you recognize this? This is a Harry Potter pumpkin. Gryffindor pride, bitches!

And I know I've gushed before about how much I love Hopworks and how I think maybe Brent and I missed our calling to open up a brewery/restaurant that caters to families, so instead of regushing all that I think we will just stick with some parking lot pictures.

If you go, drink an Abominable for me. Oh. My. God. I love that beer.

I get less punctuation happy about Rogue beers, but when Brent told me that the Rogue Hop Farm had a pumpkin patch and that we could stop by on our way home for pumpkins and a special seasonal release ale, how could I refuse?

I really dislike the use of the word "punkin". Am I alone?

But the farm was sweet and the weather was cooperative and Sawyer made a furry/prickly little friend, so I guess I can forgive them for their poorly written signage.

The beer? Meh. It's hard to come down from the Hopworks high. The Rogue paled in comparison. But there were punkins!

After we got home I came upon this scene in the garage.

"We're watching a movie!" two boys sitting in boxes informed me while munching on apples. Right. Carry on then!

Let's talk about the dog. I'm not going to lie, I haven't been the biggest fan of this dog. But she is slowly growing on me. I like the fact that she inspires us to go for an early Saturday morning walk in the sunshine.

With this awesome fall weather spanning into another weekend we decided that one trip to the pumpkin patch was not enough, and so we put on our boots and spent an afternoon at Winter Green Farm in Noti.

A scavenger hunt for the kids? Nice touch.

I was horrified and equally fascinated by the compost pile. And then I learned that this wasn't even the REAL compost pile, because that one takes up an entire field. Wow.

There was cider pressing and music playing and potlucking.

But the highlight was the hayride. Look at Jack's hayride face. The highlight, I tell you.

And to top it all off, some of the cows peed while we were stopped in the pasture. You should have seen Jack's face for that. The kid is easily amused.

Just like his mother, who is now off to find her knitting bag and swing by the kegerator for one last little glass of brew before Monday rears its ugly head. I should probably offer to help Brent bottle the hard cider, too, but sitting with my scarf, my beer, and my dog sounds so much nicer, don't you think?

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