Threads

Along with being homey, close to the bone, this week has brought a lot of distant threads into the weave (which is surely as mixed metaphor as I have ever heard).

My kilim pillow covers have been arriving from Turkey (in a cloth bag fastened with a safety pin guarded by a bead against the evil eye); I’ve ordered two new jars of the yummy Moroccan braising sauce for chicken; I’ve found some nearly-Espadrilles from Italy; and I am having margaritas (Skinny Girl—if only!) with a soupçon of orange bitters to give them that foreign je ne sais quoi.  And tonight:  the second installment of The Bletchley Circle, deliciously English; while this morning I was greeted with god morgen kjærlighet—“good morning, love” in Norwegian.

How I love all the threads.

image:  Christie B. Cochrell, Kilims (I)