The Pasta Express

It's a whirlwind right now... the cabin is so close and we are in the swing of moving. Boxes, plastic tubs, purging...

This Sunday we drove down to the cabin to set up dog fencing. There were rams ambling about behind the yarn shop, and I thought to myself, "This is our home, next to these rams, and this orchard. This isn't a dream". Badger went with us, and barked madly from inside the cabin because he felt we were much far away from him outside. We brought a few boxes with us, whatever we could fit in the truck along with the fence panels. I'm making another trip down tomorrow with more boxes with Harper to get him familiar with the space. The full move is at the end of the month

On Friday the bank came to appraise the house, I'm attempting to get rid of it via a deed in lieu. Essentially, that means I give the bank back the house, and they sell it but it doesn't go into foreclosure. All the paper work is filed, I'm just holding my breath.

Saturday night we stayed in. We decided to get some great micro-brew from Ithaca Brewery, their seasonal winter ale is a tangy Belgium brew that helped fend off the cold. We also decided to break out a pasta maker that my grandma had given me years ago, and sat on a shelf for too long. Growing up, I have vivid memories of sitting on Gram's scrubbed wooden chairs, hands coated in semolina, helping her role out sheets of fresh soft pasta as sauce bubbled on the stove. With a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, she'd quickly stir the sauce, kiss my head, and roll dough.

Saturday was a different scene, but equally vivid and lovely. "The Pasta Express" is the name of the ridiculous garage sale machine we used, which came complete with an instructional VHS tape. Laughing and listening to NPR we mixed the ingredients and celebrated the perfectly shaped linguine that resulted. We ate the pasta with homemade summer tomato sauce, and then curled up to watch a documentary.

Many folks who are in their mid-twenties would roll their eyes at such an evening, but really, truly, I'm just grateful, or great-full (pun intended).