Hello April

Hello Gentle Readers. As I write on Tuesday, the sky is gray and treetops sway in a stiff breeze. The day promises to be even more windy, blowing in evening rain. Yesterday was cool but the sun was out. Daffodils, hyacinths bloom. Ornamental pear trees flower two weeks ahead of schedule. A few tulip buds wait for warmer days. Spring unfolds into April.

Wednesday, I hope to find time to link this post with Kat and the Unravelers. My knitting is coming along but doesn't look much different than last week. I saved the second sock for hospital waiting room duty. I have a few more rows on the Forager sweater and then will separate the sleeves from the body. 

I continue to enjoy adding to my stitch journal. I created this feather, another k3n cloth tales design. I used fabrics of gray-blue in honor of the sandhill cranes. Behind it is an abbreviated version of long quote from Paul Johnsgard's book, Crane Music, p. 37 "There is a river in the heart of North America that annually gathers together the water largess of melting Rocky Mountain snowfields . . .  The river is the Platte. There is a season in the heart of North American that is an unpredictable day-to-day battle . . . The season is Spring. There is a bird in the heart of North America that is perhaps even older than the river . . . The bird is the sandhill crane." This passage in the natural history/science volume is, to me, the most beautiful in the book. 

Next I followed Kat's example and link to Karen Turner, the creator of this charming group of women, to stitch a piece in honor of Women's History Month. Given that I plunked a moon in the sky, the piece could have had a dark fabric as a background. Oh well, l count it as artistic license. The words that go with this piece are a poem that I began after the Women's March in January 2017. I can still remember the comradery of friends on that cold crisp bright January day. This year Apple and Google removed Women's History Month and International Women's Day from their calendars. 

We Will Not Be Silent  

January 17, 2017

On this sun-kissed day, women

wrap arms around each other.

We stand shoulder to shoulder

feet firmly on the ground.

Hips sway but we stay.

We laugh from our bellies, give a

thumbs up to the little girl,

the one whose sign speaks for justice.

We walk. Hips sway but we stay.

Prairie sisters to the woman rocked by

waves in the harbor. We bend

with the wind, force light into shadow.

We walk. Hips sway but we stay.

Late afternoon we lock arms and sing.

Vibrations from hearts echo

across the country. We will not be silent.

We sing, we sway, but we stay. 

Jane A. Wolfe

July 11, 2019

Inspired by Lucille Clifton’s poem, Homage to My Hips 

and the Women’s March, January 25, 2017

copyright Jane A. Wolfe

I am currently listening to Michelle Obama read her second book, The Light We Carry: Overcoming in Uncertain Times. I'm not sure there is anything new or earthshaking in this book but she expresses herself well and illustrates ideas such as being kind with yourself and fostering a group of friends with interesting stories. She is also warm, compassionate, and honest. In this noisy world, her voice is lovely. In my opinion the book would be an excellent gift for any young woman. I'd love to have read it during my late teens and early twenties. 

I can hear the wind picking up so I may or may not walk today. I am going to deliver our mail-in-ballots (primary election) to the office of the election commissioner this afternoon. 

Happy April! I plan to savor some part of each April day, even the dandelions.