QUIET WEDNESDAY

I took some time for myself the other day.  I pointed the car westward and set off at a leisurely pace - back roads, no real purpose or plan.  I came across this guy.  He was most disagreeable and not even a little bit grateful. Apparently he had no wish to be carried from the middle of a blind curve in the road back to his pond.  But hey, this is what I DO.  I cannot help myself - turtle rescue is, for me, as natural as breathing.  He tried to bite me.  I was not amused.  He wouldn't even come out of his shell to give me the beauty shot!  I really admire the house that he carries around on his back - it's so leathery and substantial, so ancient and perfect.  I really wanted to touch it, a lot.  But this guy is a snapper.  A SNAPPER!  I moved on...

Can you tell what part of the country I live in?  This range is referred to as The Gunks.  Lots of climbers like this particular grouping of rocks.  It's a perilous business, if you ask me.  I get the sweats just thinking about those ropes and pulleys and spikes and cliffs!

It is really breathtaking up there at the top.  We use it as a short cut when we are making a fabric run to our favorite quilt shop in Woodstock.  

I had one more stop before I got to Elaine's house.  Each year this wonderful roadside stand features the most magnificent sweep of sunflowers.  And their cinnamon rolls aren't too shabby either! 

There's a really great image of Elaine in her studio, but I haven't gotten her permission to post it, and she might not like the notoriety.  She is a very private, very talented, fiber artist.  If I lose my squatters rights over at her place, I don't know what I'd do!  Elaine is to fabric what the Can-Do-Guy is to wood.  You get the picture!