Among other things, we watched Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus over the weekend. It's a bit of a crazy ride through the south. It's the stuff that you think of when you imagine Faulkner's south, or McCuller's south, or any version of the south unavailable to outsiders. Beautifully filmed, great music. If you like the stuff on the website, it's worth watching. The perpetual presence of both Jim White and Johnny Dowd work to sew it together.

And slowly the painting of the house trim is coming along. That's pretty exciting. Except now we also need a carpenter to fix the problems under the old paint.

We also took a bit of a bike ride. It was as long as I could manage (meaning not very) until I get back into some sort of shape. One of the stops was the Fremont Sunday market where I found an old Irish guy selling wool socks from a small town in Ireland. Apparently it's local fiber and local production. Of course I had to get a pair. In particular because in the back of my head, after reading various histories of knitting, I've been wanting to go to Ireland just so I could go to the local markets to buy handknit socks from the sock knitting ladies. I know, welcome to my daydreaming, but I was happy to get part-way there this weekend.