A silly moment when wandering the back streets of Cantalupo di Sabina outside of Rome this summer.

Well, I finally gave in to the approaching winter at Fake Rock Farm (45th latitude), packed the Element up to its gills with fabric, paints, patterns, computer, audiobooks and snacks, and headed east to Meg Staley Handmade winter headquarters at our house in Cold Spring, NY.  Definitely cozier than our wheezy Michigan barn in the nippy months.

Or so I thought.  Until Saturday, when a freak snowstorm dumped 8″ of very wet snow on trees that hadn’t even begun to shed their leaves, and as soon as you could say “Uh-oh,” the power went kaput.  And with the power went the news, the coffeemaker, the entertainment devices, lights and  heat.

Since trunk show deadlines are looming, I kept on working until i was forced to crawl under the covers.  By the second night I was ready for a hot meal and shower and my dear sister, Lynn, gathered me into her warm Central Park West apt.

Today, just after snapping this shot of me in my LED headlamp and other power-less accoutrements, the lights flickered on.  Just about 48 hours and none the worse for wear.  Now I can take off my Davy Crockett hat,  headlamp and fingerless gloves and greet the trick-or-treaters.

The weather at Fake Rock Farm is finally turning, and I’ve cut off the tips of thumbs, forefingers and ring fingers on my old red wool gloves to stretch my studio time out in the barn.  After an hour or so of printing and cutting on my table, I retreat to the kitchen tap to revitalize manual dexterity.  Soooo, I was wandering around in my i photos and when I found this picture my sister took at her home in Collevecchio in August, it asked to be posted as a melancholy reminder of summer passing.