on saturday, i scampered down to the west village for a lady date -- focaccia at rosemary's, pumpkin pie ice cream at van leeuwen's, good talks and laughs, as always.
and, for the weekend's magnum opus, i put the last of the apples i picked upstate to good use and made apple butter for the first time. doing so did nothing but stoke the fires of my farmhouse dreams. i peeled and cored and worked with my hands; apples and cider and spices simmered the hours away; smooth butter winked at me from shiny glass jars, and everything just felt good. farmhouse dreams abound.