Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
A change of scenery ....
And familiar faces ...I spent a few days in New York, visiting my sister and my son -- both of whom work and live there.
My travelling companion was, with a nod to Stephanie, the sock. The sock is a gift in progress for a friend who had foot surgery. What better celebration of recovery than handknit socks, right?
The sock enjoyed the sleeping compartment on the train ...
And brunch at The Farm on Adderley. The chocolate brioche with butter and sea salt was amazing and the Bloody Marys were the best I've ever had.
I dragged the sock to the Poetry House in Battery Park. For a word nerd, it is like a trip to Paradise. Books, journals, tapes, CDs -- all poetry, all the time.
The sock lit a candle at St. Patrick's Cathedral.
But wisely stayed far from the flame.
It walked across the Brooklyn Bridge -- with a little help.
And it found its dream bicycle parked under the bridge.
The sock visited yarny kin at La Casita and Knitty City. There was only one purchase, some gorgeous lace-weight in shades of red. Destined for a shawl, just have no idea which one.
And while the sock rested in its knitting bag, and I walked around a chilly New York in the sweater I'd made my brother 17 years ago, Cecelia and I remembered him with tears and with laughter. We talked about how family bonds are reconfigured around a gaping hole. We celebrated having each other and having time together.
We reminded ourselves that love really can see us through.
Friday, May 06, 2011
This has been a week of memories, some of them related to knitting.
At my brother's funeral, his partner gave me a bag that contained almost everything my brother owned -- a stuffed toy soldier my grandmother made him when he was 2, an afghan my mother had crocheted, and this --
This is one of those very few patterns that I know I'll be knitting again. Next time in wool, with long sleeves instead of bracelet length -- and a full complement of buttons instead of a single.
I wonder if I'll always look at this sweater and remember that I was finishing it on the day I got the phone call my brother had taken his own life. I hope that instead I remember better times -- when we were happy and life was filled with promise.
Friday, April 22, 2011
But I don't really care. Today, I received news that my brother David died during the night. Since my mother died a couple of years ago, David has been a lost soul. He attempted to soothe his hurts with alcohol and medications. Sadly, they are the things that took his life last night.
At one point, David and I talked every day. Although he's been in his own world for a while, I will miss him every single day.
Monday, April 18, 2011
I wondered whether I need to dig Mom's fur coat out of the back of the closet instead.
I'm trying to keep a hopeful thought:
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
A Spinner's List
The old woman whispers -- come to me
and I will tach you to make magic,
cast the spells of Gideon and Arachne.
She folds my fingers around a stick
of warm basswood with a maple whorl
and slides wool across my palm,
shows me how to draft each curl
into a feathered fan, and feel the balm
of thick fragrant grease
and breathe the incense of lanolin.
I flick the spindle and release
the fragile fibers into thin
air, where they embrace emptiness and make it whole.
Now, she murmurs, chant the spell --
qiviut, bombyx, tussah, merino,
rambouillet, jacob huacaya, suri.
She whispers again, be slow --
the spider at her web does not hurry.
Monday, April 11, 2011
I hadn't been there in a long time. I mean, a reaaallly long time. I was warmly welcomed -- and I got to show off my Irish Diamonds shawl during show and tell. The group is growing --we're at member number 800 and something.
And yesterday, it was 82 degrees. It was short-lived, but gave me hope that yes, indeed, somewhere out there is spring.
I'll know it's really spring when there is a sighting of these --
But best of all, I had both of these in my house this weekend --
Doesn't get better than that.
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Sunday, April 03, 2011
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Scott chatted with the people who make spinning wheels and spindles.
I chatted with fiber and yarn.
Briar Rose was there --
I managed to resist the temptation at their booth, but I did buy a couple of skeins for felted slippers from Amazing Grace FarmsThey had other stuff, too --
I could not resist some gorgeous English Angora fiber from Prissy --one of Jan Vandenhout's lovely bunnies:
And what about the shawl?
I knitted in my hotel room before my daughter's play, and afterward, while we talked.
I knitted while Scott drove us to Bowling Green for the fiber fest.
I knitted last night.
I knitted this morning.
I started promising myself little rewards for completing a row -- like a couple of these:
or a trip to the bathroom.
I am on the last patterning row, followed by two rows of stockinette, an eyelet row, two more rows of stockinette, and then 12 rows of garter stitch -- which I am referring to as the Bataan Death March edging.
While knitting, I've been singing --
"This is the shawl that never ends; it goes on and on my friends;
some knitter started knitting it, not knowing what it was, and she'll continue knitting it forever
this is the shawl that never ends ..."
You know the tune -- feel free to sing along.