Surprise!

No, I didn't forget we're supposed to be building a log house.  At least, I remembered this week and spent some time up at The House doing this and that.   "Hey!  What a nice lookin' log house someone's building here.  Sure wish I had a....  waaait a minute!  WE'RE building a log house!"

I'm so used to a rather .... er, glacial pace on this house build, that when stuff happens quickly I'm all kinds of taken aback.   For example, The Hubs and I cleared out the assorted stuff that had begun to accumulate in the first floor bedroom (like paint cans and spools of wire and stair treads, etc), re-measured and purchased carpeting on Wednesday.  Y'know:  just for fun.

Now, Bob can and has installed carpet, but a man knows his strengths, and we decided to hire the installation out this time.  Thinking it would be several many weeks before the carpet installer could fit us in, we called last night to at least get on his calendar...  and he said, "How about tomorrow morning?"  [Cue Anne's heart attack.]   Apparently, he just finished a big job that he had anticipated taking a full week, and was left with an unscheduled Friday.  Woo-hoo!  

So, bright and early this morning, we met him up at The Log House:

Thanks, Steve!

What's the first thing to do after new carpet installation?

Zen meditation?

With skipping?

And horsey rides?

I'd say the carpeted floor is a winner.  Want to come skip around yourself?

Homemade quill and blueberry ink

What do you do with too many old frozen blueberries and a serendipitous crow feather on a lazy Sunday night?

Yes.  2011.  And it wasn't alone in there....  

Turn the feather into a writing quill and make blueberry ink, of course.  Duh.

I thought it was inspired; The Husband thought I was a little crazy to be so excited about a dodgy old crow feather I plucked from the muddy ground.  He was also a little skeezed out to be honest, so I washed the feather as soon as we got home.

To hasten the juicing of the berries, I dumped a few frozen beauties into a glass bowl and microwaved them for a minute, then smooshed them.  It only takes a little bit of juice to make ink, so now I have a bunch of lukewarm mushy berries sitting around.  Ah well.

The Hubs has a bunch of these sheathed razor blades from his days as an aviation electrician, so I cut the tip of the feather with that AND DIDN'T EVEN CUT MYSELF.  It's a minor miracle.  Don't forget to cut both at an angle and a tiny vertical cut at the point.

Sneaky me slipped in a little history lesson with The Girl and GirlCousin while they thought they were having fun writing with the quill.  Heh heh heh!   (Cue pompous lecture-voice:   "Well, girls, you see... blah blah blotting paper...  yadda yadda blotting sand....")

Truthfully, I was entertained by the whole process much longer than the were the children.

But The Boy wrote this, not I.  Really!

After a the ink/blueberry juice dries, it turns from reddish-purple to a pretty navy blue.

If your inner nerd is as jazzed about a gross old feather and a few tablespoons of staining fruit juice as is mine, give it a try!   Tots easy.   Annnnd makes me want to go read Jane Austen.  Again.