Hipstamatic prequel

Don't get all excited about the green-ness. This walked happened a hundred years ago. Or in October.

I guess it's less of photo essay, and more just random pictures I took on a dog walk one day. But I don't really care, cause this is MY blog, damnit. I can do what I want.

Hipstamatic dog walk

I have only two things to say:

1. Is it my imagination, or it is getting greener out there?

2. Dogwin rolled in what (judging by the smell) must be skunk diarrhea this morning. Oh. My. God.

Ohmigod.

Okay, enough gabbing. Let's let the pictures tell the story, shall we?

My hand is better, by the way

Yup, hand is all better now.

And so much has changed, that it isn't really worth going into. Because, even though the kids get bigger and braver and sweeter, and the earth and the air and the water get colder, the important thing is that we are all still here.

Waiting for Spring to come.

...and then I stuck my hand in the middle of a dog fight.

So I've been gone for a while, eh? Yeah, well... I stuck my hand in the middle of a dog fight.


Gross, huh? It got worse.

But I had lots of help.

It's hard to tie your shoes one-handed.
We managed to squeeze in a little more summer fun, though. We ran around the docks with our friends.

Hunter learned to fly.
Just one of your average ordinary Vineyard summers.

Fair

Fair rides are fun. Or, they are fun in my memory. In real live present day action, they are a little scary.

And make me a wee bit dizzy.

And unlike my offspring, I cannot ingest Fair Food whilst queasy. And let's be honest here, the Fair is all about food. Whether you're a chocolate on your fried dough kinda guy (I am decidedly NOT)...

Or you're more into the whole local BBQ thing.

Oh, I am. I very. very much am.

Tomato Sauce

It all starts with tomatoes. Lots and lots of tomatoes.

They don't have to be perfect, you just need to pick a whole bunch of 'em (I assume you also have a million tomatoes this year, it being such a wonderful tomato year and all.), and dice them up, thusly:
I wish my honey wouldn't bite his nails. Doesn't seem to interfere with his knife skills, though.

And throw them in a big pot:

And let it cook.

Then put on a silly hat


And take pictures of the steam rising.


And voila! Tomato sauce! At least that's my experience of it. The problem with not doing it myself is that I miss some steps, what with all my documenting and wine drinking resonsibilities.

Our trip back in time, to the grain store in the Model T (a hipstamatic photo essay)