Safe Passage

A heron could teach me something about patience and waiting. Often she stands perfectly still for long periods of time at the edge of a wetland, stalking her prey. These days I am less than patient and often restless with the unknowns. The best medicine for me is to limit my news intake and go outdoors. Every morning I step out onto the deck and take a few deep breaths and remind myself of my good fortune. Sunday morning I stepped around the hail and mess of a storm that drastically changed the weather and offered Easter snow flurries. This week is cold and windy in Nebraska so I bundle up in my winter coat and warm woolens. I am glad I procrastinated with the washing prior to summer storage.

I finished Kate's shawl and will block it this week. I hope to make some progress on this sweater while the days are cool and a blob of wool still feels good in my lap. The shaping is interesting. A designer who can transform an idea into a pattern is a marvel. This photo shows the beginning of the A-line shaping of the body.

In her book, Finding Beauty in a Broken World, Terry Tempest Williams wrote about the tradition of a container for tears to honor grief. Several years ago, I wrote a group of poems about containers. I publish this one in honor of poetry month.


I Would Craft a Container*

I would craft a container to honor empty and full,
     dark and light, summer and winter:

A cradle for space between stitches,
     caesura between lines, windbreak in the grass

An envelope for words fragile as the tiny white
     feather lost in a prairie gale

A basket to shelter postcards carried by the wind
     or messages from earthworm and tiny dry leaf

An empty nest for gray sky and bright sunshine,
     a container for safe passage through ordinary days.

*copyright Jane A. Wolfe

As I link to Kat and the other Unravelers, I wish you a safe passage to ordinary days.

This Week

During this hard week, the world turns toward Spring. The daffodils bloom and the grass grows. The tulips and iris send up green spears. Easter and Passover will be celebrated. Yesterday was a gloriously warm day. My husband mowed for the first time this season as I cleaned out the herb garden. Cutting back last year's lavender, sage, and oregano, I caught the scent of summer and what I hope will be better days.

My knitting is much the same and I am not complaining. I finished the last baby hat. This week I added a couple of lace sections to Kate's shawl. Last night I tinked back two rows to correct a mistake while listening to an On Being podcast. The fix was relatively simple and predictable. I love the perfect patterns of lace so I was happy to take out the rows.

I don't know if you can see it, but this needle is quite springy. It's an old Addi that has been stored in the packaging for quite awhile. If anyone has a remedy that relaxes the cable, I'd love to hear from you. Once I noticed a local yarn shop owner stored circular needles in a fabric case supported on a wire clothes hanger. The needles slid through fabric sleeves with tips hanging from either side. I imagine gravity kept the cables from becoming springy. However it was messy looking and the needles weren't labeled by size although I suppose that problem could be solved with a permanent marker. Any ideas?

I finished Virginia Woolf's, A Writer's Diary. Her comments about own reading and her contemporary writers are interesting. She also often wrote about being "headache - y." I know about bad headaches and am thankful mine aren't terribly frequent and can be treated with modern meds. Woolf lived through World War One and died in 1941. During the early years of WWII, the Woolf home in London was bombed. The couple also dodged bombs at a home outside of London. Of course they were fortunate to have somewhere else to live but watching a second world war develop and having bad headaches without modern medicine must have felt overwhelming. Those things combined with other health concerns, briefly noted now and then, must have become unbearable. All of this gives me a better understanding of her life and death. Sometime soon I am going to read one of her novels and pair it with diary entries about the specific book.

In lighter reading, Jonah and I read Kitten's First Full Moon in honor of the last night's spectacular full moon. My daughter took the three boys out to look at the moon and we looked at it here at the same time. It was a sweet moment.

I am linking with Kat and the Unravelers this week. Thank you to the emergency responders, the medical personnel, the grocery store and drug store staffs, and everyone else who keeps this upside down world from unraveling.  I hope you are safe and that Spring brings you comfort and peace.

Timeless

Hello April. Hello to warmer days, sunshine, daffodils and a walk on the prairie. Yesterday I took a long walk on the Spring Creek Prairie. Temperatures were in the mid sixties and the wind blew gently across this timeless land. The tall grass is just waking up under the gold and brown of last year. The green of late spring and summer is yet to come. Yesterday I was surrounded by sound. In a low spot near the pond, I heard peepers. Water in the pond rippled under the wind. The meadowlarks are back from their winter range and they were singing. The familiar five note melody rang out from every direction. I never did see one but their music will fill the prairie until autumn. Once onto the prairie and over a ridge, I sat down on the ground. Traffic noise from the nearby highway receded. I listened to the soft rattle of wind blowing through dry grasses. I walked and sat on a bench or rock to listen and then walked some more. Those few hours were glorious. As I walked out of the prairie toward my car, I saw one eastern bluebird before he took flight.

In real time, today is Unraveled Wednesday with Kat and the Unravelers. My projects remain mostly the same. I am making steady progress on this shawl and the above sweater.  The next time I sit down with the Coast sweater, I will put the sleeve stitches on waste yarn and set up the side body detail. I am waiting for daylight knitting hours so I put the stitch markers in the correct places. I considered putting the yoke on and taking a photo but I now officially have pandemic hair. I am not complaining just being truthful. 

In honor of my new great nephew, I am knitting a few preemie hats to donate at a later date. He arrived earlier than his due date but is gaining weight and doing well in the NICU. So far so good.I can't imagine the unit would accept anything from the outside right now and I heartily support that policy. 

Since April is poetry month, I ordered a copy of an anthology, Poetry of Presence: An Anthology of Mindfulness Poems. Poems by familiar and lesser known poets are included. It's a treasure for these days.    

Today and always, my grandchildren bring me joy. This is the sign they made last week to hang in their window.  Love is also timeless and it will carry us through. Take good care. Happy April. 

One Stitch at a Time

The sky is gray but sunshine is predicted for late afternoon. Yesterday while we walked, the clouds parted to a gorgeous blue sky and the temperature rose to the mid-50's. I saw a purple crocus bloom. The bird song speaks joy. Spring has arrived. 

Knitting keeps me in the present. I'm enjoying the stockinette stitches in the gray sweater and the garter and lace stitches in the shawl. Stitch by stitch, row by row, we knitters make things. Our hands hold needles as we pull one loop through another to make a stitch. Each stitch, like each member of the community, is dependent upon the integrity of the others around it. Most of the time, stitches line up neatly on the needles. The best we can do for each other is to stay home. I am thankful for such a warm comfortable shelter.

I am working away at the gray sweater and shawl. Yesterday I cast on a pair of vanilla socks so I'd have a portable project. I feel better when I have a project bag ready to grab on the way out the door. Socks provide lots of stitches and take up little space. I probably won't knit too much on this project and I hope I won't need it for a health emergency but it feels like good insurance.

Jonah's current favorite Face Time read is The Runaway Bunny, an old sweet story by Margaret Wise Brown. I'm still reading A Writer's Diary by Virginia Woolf and am less enthusiastic about the last third of the book. It is an interesting view into her mind and work though and I plan to finish. These days I'm also reading a mystery, A Trace of Deceit by Karen Odden. I've just begun but it is well written. The victim and his sister are part of the art world in Victorian London. Mysteries are good escape reading and the genre is predictable. 

Locally, this evening at 6:00 p.m. First Plymouth Church is giving a "Carillon from your Car" Concert. Everyone stays in their cars and listens to music from the bell tower. The music is audible from as far away as a mile. I am making peanut butter sandwiches for a car picnic. I may even bake a few cookies. I've been resisting the urge for cookies but if I make some with oatmeal, dried fruit, and nuts, they will have some redeeming value. That's my cookie story and I'm sticking to it.

As I link with Kat and the Unravelers, I wish you good health and safe shelter.

Hope

Gentle rain fell during the night and early this morning. The moisture, although scant, is welcome. Out my window, a female cardinal tears small pieces of birch bark for her nest. I hope she is building near by. Even though we won't be standing on the pedestrian bridge with hundreds of other watchers, I know thousands of sandhill cranes feed and rest along the Platte River in a migration almost as old as time. In my mind, I hear their ancient music and my spirits lift.

Small buds are visible on the lilacs and the maples sport the red fringe of new leaves. Yesterday after my walk, I noticed these tulips in our front yard. Last summer we reworked this area, covering it with ground cloth and several inches of river rock. I thought the bulbs were a lost cause but somehow they found a way through the rocks. These are four tough tulips.

So ever hopeful, I knit on. Never in all my days have I been so happy to have a stash of yarn and a bookcase of books. I knit a tea cozy for my two-cup teapot and learned a new stitch, the mistake rib. I like the texture and wonder if it would make a good hat. I may try. I ripped out an Icicles hat that is knit from the top down. I set out to learn a new-to-me technique and learned I didn't like it one bit. I don't swatch for hats. I just knit the bottom edge and check the fit. Of course, this didn't work with top-down construction. I didn't discover it was too small until after I fiddled with the cast on and knit the increase rounds. Well, maybe I knew after a few rounds but ignored that wise knitting voice in my head. Anyway, I didn't want the hat enough to try again with other yarn and larger needles. 

The Soft Sunday Shawl is perfect knitting for listening to a mindless mystery. I cast on this pullover sweater three times. I blame the corona virus for a preoccupied mind. Now that I have finished the short rows and can see the lines of wide raglan shaping, it will be a good project for these indoor days. The yarn, needles, and pattern have a nice hand.

I am currently reading A Writer's Diary by Virginia Woolf. After her death, Woolf's husband culled through years of her diaries and published one volume of entries pertaining to her work. She is witty and this little volume is one view into her intelligent mind. It is easier reading than her fiction but tempts me to read some of her other work. I'm also enjoying Joy Harjo's American Sunrise. Our current poet laureate is deserving of her honor.

I will link this post to Kat and the Unravelers as a way to knit us together through these days.

To all the medical people on the front lines and the school personnel making sure kids have online learning opportunities thank you, thank you. To the grocery, big box, and drugstore clerks facing a never ending line of customers, garbage haulers on the road, first responders, and child care providers trying to keep children safe and sound, and many other helpers thank you, thank you.

While we put one foot in front of the other, may we be as tough and tender as tulips.

Shawl Weather

Morning fog creeps down the hill just east of our home. The gentle slope creates a small valley through the backyards. Fog wafts into the neighborhood and settles in this the backyard valley.  I suspect the seventy degree temperatures over the weekend followed by Monday's cool rainy day created conditions for a foggy morning. The house is cool so I wrapped a shawl around my neck and shoulders. When the world seems foggy, I often reach for a shawl. Whether I wear a bright hitchhiker or a humble garter stitch triangle I knit in 2012, a shawl is shelter and comfort. I am good company with my shawls. Women and shawls have a long history.

My sources of knitted shawl history: Cheryl Oberle of Folk Shawls, Mary Thomas's Knitting Book (first published in 1938, reprinted by Dover, 1972), Martha Waterman's Traditional Knitted Lace Shawls, and of course Wikipedia, have varying opinions about the location of the first shawls. If word origin is any indication, shawls originated in the Eastern world. The word shawl comes from the Persian word shaul which came from the Sanskrit (an Indian language), sati and sari, a piece of cloth.

Currently, I have two shawls on the needles. The off-white Soft Sunday Shawl above is for my daughter.  This is the third time I have knit this pattern so the lace pattern feels familiar. I believe in muscle memory that comes from repetition. I couldn't have written about the specific stitch pattern but one row into the lace and my hands recognized and picked up the rhythm. This is comfort knitting at its best.

On Sunday, International Women's Day, I cast on another Wool Peddlers Shawl. Way back when, I bought red yarn to make this shawl as pictured in the Folk Shawls book. For awhile, the garter stitch body will be a carry around project. Knitting from a book I own and with deep stash yarn feels like a win. The cherry red is a nice contrast to the cream colored shawl and the gray and white mitts I recently finished. I unraveled the pink stitches and reknit the mitts in gray and white. The yarn bases didn't go well together so they are not Neapolitan colored (original design name) in the least. They were fun to knit so I may use this pattern again for leftover yarns.

I am listening to The Ten Thousand Doors of January and surprised by how much I enjoy it. I don't usually read fantasy. Perhaps this isn't a true fantasy but more magical realism and definitely an allegory. At any rate, I am enjoying the writing, literary references, strong characters, and an action filled plot. The audio narration is a trifle too dramatic (in my opinion) but not enough to quit listening. Last weekend, I opened Toni Morrison's last published book, The Source of Self-Regard: Selected Essays and Meditations. Morrison's work is extraordinary and this nonfiction is no exception. The first few essays are dense with her thoughtful opinions and ideas. She is another woman whose strong voice will be missed.

The fog has given way to a bright gray day. After I link with Kat and the Unravelers, I am off for a walk. I hope to see the wings of a cardinal folded over her back like a triangular shawl. I'm putting hand sanitizer and toilet paper out of my mind for the time being. I'd rather think about shawls and Spring. I may even slip out and buy some flowers. Stay well my friends.

Finished

Here we go into the first lamblike week of March. The birdsong is more noticeable as I walk. This morning I saw one junco in the back yard. Soon they will be gone for the season. The little house finches flit around in pairs. Spring is around the corner, I'm just not sure which one. Last weekend neighbors cleaned out gardens and flower beds. As I wrote in a comment response, I had a walk around the yard, took one look at all of the Creeping Charlie, and went for a walk. Maybe it will be ground cover. In spite of a few sixty degree days, our last frost date is around May 10. I'm not ready to uncover perennials yet. Last year's daffodils were a little thin and I haven't seen any poking out of the ground. My husband might have to dig up that area so I can amend and add to the soil. The older I get I like the idea of gardening more than the actual process.

I finished three projects so I am casting on some new ones. I am trying these mitts and cast on a shawl for my daughter. She said she would like a neutral colored shawl that is bigger than the one I made when she was pregnant with her second child. Time flies. Now she has four children. Shawls and mittens/mitts are my favorite things to knit unless I'm knitting something else.

I am pleased with the Rewilding Shawl The yarn is wonderfully soft around the neck.

I also finished the baby sweater and made a hat to go with it. After consulting the baby's grandmother, I went ahead and let the colors of the yarn play out in the sleeves. I am not sure I could have matched the stripes even if I had cut the second skein apart. I hope the playful look of this sweater encourages the parents to use the sweater. The pattern, Little Nugget, is a good basic sweater in multiple baby and child sizes. Although it calls for fingering weight yarn, I used this light DK, knitting the smallest size to get about a 6 month size for this April baby.

The scrappy Hitchhiker is finished with 38 teeth but who is counting. I will forever associate this project with recovery from a sore back and the audio version of The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes. The story set in Kentucky in the 1930s makes me wonder how much progress we've made when it comes to rich powerful men who run businesses without much thought for employees or the environment. The friendship of the women librarians is heartwarming and they are all strong characters. The ending of the book seemed abrupt and weak to me. I would write more but I don't want to spoil the story for prospective readers. Currently there is some controversy about possible plagiarism that, for me, removes the shine from this novel. Given the storyline, it is a little ironic.

I savored every word of Erosion: Essays of Undoing by Terry Tempest Williams. The way Williams weaves personal and ideas about public lands is masterful. I read a few chapters at a time in order to think about her ideas. What a thoughtful voice.

After Williams' book, I needed to read something different, Then the The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix Harrow appeared in my Overdrive Account. I'm not sure how to categorize this novel but am enjoying the two stories I've encountered. Maybe this novel is fantasy or magical realism?

As usual on Wednesday, I am linking with Kat and the Unravelers and will read the news of knitting and reading.

As this crazy winter comes to a close, enjoy these early March days.