August Stitches

Hello Gentle Readers. August heat continues to ripen tomatoes while the vines wither. The coneflower petals fade but the vibrant zinnias attract monarchs and a black swallowtail butterfly. Butterflies are remarkable for their resilience and beauty. When I've been out evenings to stroll around the block, the cicada chorus accompanies slightly earlier sunsets. Back in the day, when their rasping became deafening, my Grandad used to remark, "six weeks to the first frost." Growing up on a farm in the early 1900's, he learned to read the natural world. 

Today is the first day of school for public school kindergarteners, sixth graders, and ninth graders. The first year students in the buildings have a day to adjust before all students are in attendance. Maybe because I was a teacher and a mom, the start of a school year feels like a big milestone. Last evening while walking, I spoke to a kindergarten teacher returning from Open House. She was full of enthusiasm and empathy for her little students. She is one of many excellent teachers who have been hard at work, preparing for the school year. I wish the teachers and the youngsters well. 

Today I link with Kat and the Unravelers for posts about making and reading. I enjoy stitching on this little notions-sized pouch. The four squares in the bottom right square were from a long strip of cloth. Otherwise I've worked with the scraps as they present and with two strands of embroidery floss. I don't pre-mark patterns and sometimes I go back to a square and add stitching. I've noticed that I like some open space. 

Sunday I finished the body of the Avenue Vest. When it dries from wet blocking, I'll pick up and knit the neckline and the armhole ribbing. I'm pleased with the way it came out. Meanwhile, I made some progress on the foot of the first Sea Glass sock. 

I reread an older book of poetry, Lost in Seward County by Marjorie Saiser, published in 2001. The cover art is by a local artist, Hilda Raz. Seward County is adjacent to Lancaster County where I live. While reading the title poem I pictured the roads Saiser describes as she drives to visit "Ted." I assume she refers to Ted Kooser who lives in rural Seward County. Some of the poems in this book are quite long but I enjoyed their short story like quality. They also give the book a different kind of rhythm. One of my favorites from this volume is "My Old Aunts Play Canasta in a Snowstorm." The last line, "deal, sister, deal" is the perfect conclusion to the poem. 

So I best freeze some tomato puree and find a cool indoor space to walk. I'd rather be outside but even the mornings are too humid and hot for me. I wish you a good week.