Well, we’re home. Vacation was just starting to get restful. Good thing we have another one coming up in September. And the cats were glad to see us roll in just before 3 a.m. Well, they might have been happier if we’d rolled in a little earlier, but that’s what happens when you’re driving home from vacation — you leave late, you drive slow, you stop to buy cat food…

I’ll post deeper thoughts on our vacation later on — after my brain has had a chance to regroup. In the meantime, I leave you with the list of new cds that now call The Burrow home:

• The FRFF sets of Eddie from Ohio, Brave Combo, and Arrogant Worms — Eddie from Ohio were Eddieless so took on the moniker From Ohio for their festival performances (I also saw them hanging out waiting to autograph stuff in the cd tent and were impressed by their Nationals caps); Brave Combo is the headbanging, Grammy-winning polka alternative (way more fun than any of us thought they would be!); and the Arrogant Worms are a hilarious Canadian trio you should see live if you ever get the chance.
• Erin McKeown‘s We Will Become like Birds — Erin wasn’t at this year’s festival because she’s busy being in demand — touring with Ani and getting ready to perform on Conan (Aug. 9!).
• Crooked Still‘s Hop High — I was impressed by Aoife O’Donovan’s voice last year, but forgot to buy this disc then.
• Signature Sounds Sampler #9 — This Connecticut-based independent label is home to many favorites — from Richard Shindell and Fred Eaglesmith to Tracy Grammer and Kris Delmhorst, as well as Erin McKeown’s early albums.
• Paul and Storm‘s Opening Band — Two of the four members of Da Vinci’s Notebook, whom we discovered at Falcon Ridge a few years ago.
• FRUiT‘s Burn — A catchy Australian band.
• Tracy Grammer‘s Flower of Avalon — Sweet and soulful arrangements of Dave Carter-penned, but unreleased tunes.

This week’s three beautiful things:

1. Last night, I got up from the computer to brush my teeth and discovered all three cats clustered at the bathroom door. Feeling that such collaboration a little suspicious, I moved the door and discovered what I think might have been a young cricket/grasshopper/weird bug hiding desperately under the safety the 1 1/2 inch door provided. When I got back inside from escorting the bug back to a more hospitable environment, I congratulated the trio on their protective and hunting instincts.

2. I bought the first peaches of the season at last weekend’s market and have been eating them throughout the week. They were a little hard when I bought them, but Eli and Misty’s stand just smelled divine, so I knew they would ripen into something delicious. And the juice that’s been dripping off my chin each evening is the evidence I was right.

3. Yesterday, my friends came through in spades — an IM conversation with Shelley, emails from Danny and Wendy, a train ride home from a meeting with Susan and John, a phone message (relayed through Rudi) from Jason, and a nice long phone chat with Karen. As they say down here, I am blessed.

Somehow we’re already at Thursday afternoon. I’m glad — I need a weekend to come soon. I’m just feeling a step out of time, I suppose because of the travel and the holiday weekend and all that. But I’m looking forward to the weekend to getting back on track.

The beautiful things from the last week:

1. The Mets took 3 of 4 games they played here in town against the Nats this week. I was lucky enough to get to see two of the wins (and the loss) and appreciate the fact that I can now see my two favorite teams play on a regular basis. Today’s win puts the Mets back over .500; hopefully they’ll keep up the momentum heading into the All-Star Break and come out strong for the second half of the season.

2. In preparation for my folks’ visit this past weekend, we did some cleaning. And the exciting thing about that is that you can currently see all three of the mismatched rugs we have in the living room — a fact the cats find utterly delightful.

3. I’m working on a huge knitting project and finally reached a point where I felt like I was making progress. I enjoy knitting, but it takes a while for a project to reach the point where you can actually see the object you aspire to complete. I’m not sure I’m there yet, but I can now actually see myself reaching that point.

Three beautiful things of the week:

1. Last night we had a gorgeous thunderstorm between 8 and 9 at night. Rudi and I turned off all the lights in the Burrow and curled up together on the couch (with Della) to watch. The summer we realized we had feelings for one another, Rudi and I each had a large room with a wall of windows in the dorm we were staying in. Depending on whether the storm was coming from the north or the south (and usually it was from the south, over the Sound), we’d pile into each other’s rooms and watch the free light shows.

2. The plane that was due to come pick me up and bring me home on Tuesday got stuck in Virginia due to one of those aforementioned light shows, stranding me at O’Hare for an extra three hours. Thanks to my trusty cell phone, not only could I let Rudi know he should pick me up closer to midnight than 8 p.m., but I also got to talk to Karen for an hour. If I’m going to be stuck in an airport, it’s nice to know that I can just reach out and touch someone I know, even if they’re far away at the time.

3. When I woke up in my very own bed Wednesday morning, Jeremiah was curled up on the pillow around my head. I think he was trying to make sure that bad dreams and untimely wakefulness stayed away from me on my first night home.

Yesterday I managed to convince Rudi that he really wanted to head north to West Friendship, Maryland, with me so he could ride his bike while I went to the Maryland Sheep and Wool Festival.

It was a beautiful day — about 75 degrees with blue skies for a drive through the countryside. We arrived just after 3, leaving me with two hours to wander before the festival closed.

The festival is two-pronged. The first part is for producers — people who raise sheep, goats, llamas, alpacas, and angora rabbits. There are competitions and vendors who sell farm implements and things of that ilk. The other part is for consumers — those of us who use the producers’ goods.

I wandered first through some farmers’ booths, admiring walking sticks and handmade knitting needles, as well as a soft sheep and some humungous (and very friendly) angora bunnies.

Then past a competition of children with their sheep and woolen goods up to the alpacas and llamas. We strolled through a barn of sheep and into a couple of exhibit halls before Rudi decided to leave for his bike ride.

I strolled leisurely through the rest of the exhibition halls, feeling a vast variety of yarns and looking for something specific to finish a project I’m working on. I didn’t find it, but I did find:

Homemade lemonade

Giant eclairs (at a cutrate deal — 2 for $5)

A woolen ball for the cats to play with (it should be noted here that I debated this purchase for a while because I wasn’t sure whether it was good to encourage the cats to play with something made of the same material I make things out of, but clearly Posey (seen below) and Jeremiah feel I made the right decision.)

Size 35 needles for a shawl knit of the beautiful mohair Mum gave me for Christmas (The needles are 14″ long, I think, and wider than my fingers. They have fun lavender with polka dots balls on the top and are made by hand from poplar.)

500 yards of gorgeous apricot mohair/fine wool blend yarn (The current plan is to make a Christmas present from it, but I don’t swear I won’t keep it for myself.)

I headed south through rolling hills to Wheaton, where I finally caught up with Rudi after his bike ride. Both of us had a jolly time and the plan for next year is to bring both bikes and arrive earlier in order to make a day of it.

Tuesday night, I decided I was finally going to try making bread.

I had bought bread flour. Karen had kindly supplied me a bevy of non-dried milk recipes. I checked the yeast I’d bought years ago. Oops. August ’04. Hmmm… And would this kind even work?

So a trip to Safeway for yeast. We bought two kinds — just to be on the safe side. And a can of pears.

Back home. Which recipe?

Rudi selects the pear-based recipe.

A phone call to Karen: Which yeast do I want? Either will probably be fine, she says. She is a calming voice to my inexperience. Even if it does not work out, it will be fine. She adds the sage (but not basil) warning that I should not yank the bread out of the machine as soon as it ends and slice into it. It won’t be done cooking. I won’t have to wait all 15 minutes, but 10 minutes would be smart.

I pull out the breadmaker bowl and follow directions. Mash pears, add liquids, add dry ingredients, add yeast (the active, not highly active, variety). Remember not to stir. Throw bowl back into machine.

The moment of truth — will the machine work?

Hooray! It’s making noises! (Jeremiah hopped up on the butcher block to investigate.)

Rudi and I watch the dough like anxious nesting sparrows. Will it become a ball? Will it rise? Will it brown?

It did all those things. Truly exciting.

And the smell wafted through the Burrow, keeping us up late enough to eat it.

The most effort I had to put in between pouring in the ingredients and slicing the bread was getting the loaf out of the pan. It stuck a little on the sides and a spatula was necessary to loosen it. But boy did it look pretty once it was cooling on the counter.

After letting the bread cool precisely 10 minutes, I sliced it. A little butter and it was gone. Mmmmmmmmm…

We’ve had it toasted with jam for breakfast the last two days and enough remains for tomorrow’s breakfast. Then on to the next loaf. You don’t notice the pear, except when you open the paper bag, when the scent of ripe pear wafts out. Yum!

I have to admit: I experienced a surprising amount of pride for this little loaf. I didn’t do much. The breadmachine did most of it. But I suppose it wouldn’t make it without me, so I will consider it a successful working partnership.