Home to Autumn

We arrived home safely from a week-long road trip. We drove to Kansas City and picked up our daughter and her youngest son at the airport. We loved spending two days with them and taking care of the baby while she taught a short workshop. I gave this youngest grandson his pumpkin hat in Kansas City and it fit. I knit a toddler size for this nine month old. Next year he will need a bigger hat.

After we put them on the plane, we drove to Fort Worth to see our son and family. Despite the hurricane on the East Coast, the weather in the middle of the country was lovely. Our son and daughter-in-law welcomed us with a Texas style barbecue. We toured the 6th Floor Museum and the Dealey Plaza in downtown Dallas. We also took in our oldest grandson's 7th grade football game. When we left Fort Worth, the 6:00 a.m. temperature was 76 degrees. We wore lightweight clothing and sandals. Silly us. Somewhere in Oklahoma the temperature began to drop. By the time we stopped in southern Kansas, the outdoor temperature was 56 degrees. During the drive north, the temperature kept falling. At noon, we picked up more coffee, pulled on jackets, and arrived home at 6:00 p.m. for the first local frost.

We drove many miles safely and spent time with dear ones and for that we are thankful. I drove two short spells but had plenty of knitting time. First I finished a pair of ankle socks. I wondered if I'd like to wear them on cool mornings or give them as gifts. Since they were an experiment, I used scraps and a vanilla sock pattern. On the second leg of the trip, somewhere between Kansas City and Oklahoma, I wove in ends and cast on another pair of socks. On the long day home, I pulled these shorties out of my bag and put them on for warmth. I like them.

When we left, the trees in our neighborhood were mostly green. Now we are home, home to autumn. I plan to finish drying herbs, pull out frosted tomato plants, and begin Christmas gift knitting. Thank goodness for knitting. Knitting, walking, and poetry are going to get me through the last few weeks of the national election. I'm off to put on a pot of soup. Enjoy October.

Changing Seasons

Although the Farmer's Market is rich with tomatoes, eggplant, and watermelon, last night's full moon rose earlier. Light shifts toward autumn as the heat begins to relent. Evenings, I brew a cup of hot tea before I sit down to knit. Autumn is my favorite season. I am ready for the flavors of butternut squash, apple, pumpkin, ginger, and cinnamon as well as long walks among the changing colors.

Two of our four grandsons have begun new school years. The seventh grader attends school in Texas and is busy with sports, orchestra, and the Civil Air Patrol where he learns about flight. The next youngest grandson is a big kindergartener in Connecticut. He is meeting new friends and learning about the ocean. Our daughter and son-in-law took advantage of a wonderful opportunity and moved to the East Coast.

As we travel this Fall to visit both families, we will share new experiences with them. Meanwhile, thank goodness for technology and snail mail. We play the little boys' favorite game of hide and seek via Where's Waldo postcards. As is my custom, I sent a book as a birthday present. I chose Fall Walk, a story about a Grammy and a grandchild taking a walk to identify leaves from various trees. This past summer, the little boys and I enjoyed this book, sitting together on the couch. Now we will read it over Face Time. My local library has a great selection of children's book so with a little planning, I can check out the books the boys have in their home and we can read them together. While distance in miles changes, distance between hearts remains the same.

Other things also remain the same. Wherever they live, boys grow. If they live in cold climates, they need warm hats. I can knit hats. Dashing through my local yarn shop, I thought the color of this fingering weight yarn would make a cute pumpkin hat. So I bought the yarn and started a hat for my youngest grandson. At seven months, he will not be able to scoff at being cast as a sweet little pumpkin. Most patterns for the vegetable and fruit hats are knit in worsted weight so I am making up a pattern for this lighter weight yarn. Whether these boys live across town or the country, knitting a hat that fits is a gamble. I'll be finished shortly and that is a good thing. This hat won't fit anyone next year.

Wherever you are, I hope the change of season is full of possibilities. Happy Autumn.

Happy Autumn

Recently my husband and I drove up the Minnesota shore of Lake Superior. I kept thinking of the line from The Teddy Bear's Picnic, "If you go out in the woods today, you are in for a big surprise." We didn't see any bears but we had several picnics and found other surprises in the north woods of Minnesota. Autumn is my favorite season and traveling early in the season only improves the scenery. The leaves on deciduous trees were starting to turn colors. I loved the cooler temps and crisp air. I took a fleece jacket and was pleased to wear it.

Previously, when we visited Duluth, I considered it to be a northern outpost. This time we continued up the shore to Grand Marais, Minnesota. The banner strung across the main street proudly proclaims, "The Best Small Town in America." I might agree. Grand Marais is home to a thriving community of artists. My favorite artist's studio, complete with beautifully illustrated children's books, was that of Betsy Bowen. We stayed at the MacArthur House, a lovely B and B, and ate delicious dinners in small local restaurants. There wasn't a chain restaurant in town. One day we drove up to Grand Portage National Monument and hiked a short distance to Pigeon River along the Canadian Border.  On the return trip down the shore, we toured Split Rock Lighthouse. We might visit this area again.

My husband likes to drive so I logged plenty of knitting miles. I finished the Shallows Cowl and cast on a sock in some wild self-striping yarn by Desert Vista Dyeworks. Duluth has a great little yarn shop called Yarn Harbor. I bought a skein of Three Irish Girls fingering weight yarn because it is dyed locally in Superior, Wisconsin. The color, Bayfront, is about the color of the lake on a clear autumn day. I am not sure whether it will become socks or a shawl. I do know the stitches will carry a hint of autumn days in the North Woods.

In the past few days, the leaves on the birch in my front yard have begun to change. I'm off to walk around the neighborhood and watch autumn arrive. I hope you find time to enjoy October. Happy Autumn.

Local Color

All the colors of autumn make me think about the multiple meanings of the word "color." As a noun, color is defined as "a phenomenon of light or visual perception that enables one to differentiate otherwise identical objects." As a transitive verb, the word color may be used to give meaning, as in "the story has plenty of local color." The word originates from the Middle English, colour, that comes from Latin. The American Heritage College Dictionary gives the Latin origin as "kel" from "kelos" (color and hue) and means that which covers. "Kelos" is related to "occulere" or the occult and means to cover over. So this is my vocabulary lesson for today. 

As a knitter, I am drawn to yarn by both texture and color. I often choose yarn colors related to the season. Late winter/early spring I knit some yellow socks, a yellow cowl and matching mitts. When I ordered the sock yarn, I meant to trade the monochromatic landscape of winter for something warm and bright.

The pale yellow yarn in this cowl was left over from a sweater knit fifteen years ago. The color reminded me of the soft yellow daffodils in my yard. During the summer I knit two shawls in shades of lavender and two pairs of socks from two different greens. Lately I have red yarns on my needles.  I knit a pair of slipper socks for my Texas grandson. He requested socks and red is his favorite color. I knit another gift, a Biscuit Cowl from bright red colored yarn. In between the slippers and socks, I worked on a Tea Leaves Cardigan from a deep cherry/garnet red.

When I knit socks or shawls, I don't worry about colors in the yarn pooling. To me, a pool of color across an ankle or in a thumb is the charm of a hand knitted garment. Sweaters from tonal yarns are a different story. I'd rather not have a blob of color across my torso or in an armpit. This cardigan is knit from a tonal Madelinetosh Merino DK. Shortly after casting on the neck edge, I opened the skeins and looked at them in daylight. Three of the skeins were quite similar, while the fourth was a little darker and the fifth was considerably lighter than the others. I knit the yoke in one of the three similar skeins. As I knit down the body of the sweater, I changed skeins in order to blend in the lightest colored skein.

I didn't alternate every two or three rows because I didn't want to create stripes. I used the darkest skein for the bottom 1.5 inches of body and sleeves while leaving enough of the three similar skeins to knit the garter stitch borders and button bands. All of this left quite a few ends to weave into the finished sweater but that doesn't bother me. I rather enjoy the tidying up chores that finish a garment.

I plan to weave in ends and sew on buttons this afternoon while sitting on the deck in the golden light of October. Mother Nature is doing a magnificent job of pooling colors this autumn. While walking I've enjoyed the crimson and orange-red maples as well as ash trees that are yellow at the bottom with tops tinged a golden brown that turns toward a deep eggplant. The yellow locust trees lining one street look like fringe on a shawl. Yesterday, I was so enamored with the colors, I almost tripped on a raised edge of sidewalk. I am soaking up all the pools of glorious color in order to welcome the gray-blue hush of winter.

Slipping into September

Once again September and Autumn are slipping into Nebraska. The basement shelf is full of canned tomatoes for use in winter soups and casseroles. Yesterday I clipped a tray full of seed heads from the zinnias at the end of their glorious bloom. After they dry, I will store them in a paper bag in the shed for next year's garden. This week I hope to get to a local apple orchard to pick some fresh apples.

The changing season reminds me of a book I read to my children when they were youngsters. "Over and Over" by Charlotte Zolotow was published in 1957 and illustrated by Garth Williams. In this quiet story, a little girl celebrates a holiday or notices a seasonal change and asks her mother, "What comes next?" At the end of the book, she celebrates her birthday, wishing for all of it to happen again.  The story ends with these lines, "And of course, over and over, year after year, it did."

September is a birthday month in my family. My grandfather and I were both born early in September. Four years ago, my first grandson was born mid September. This year we had two small birthday dinners, one for the four year old and one for me.  E. chose firetrucks as his theme so his Mom made him a firetruck cake. I tied red, yellow, and orange balloons to his chair and we set the table with firetruck napkins and cups. Perhaps remembering his monster truck party from last year and looking forward to his firetruck party this year, he decided I should have a "yoga" birthday party. He and his Mom drizzled frosting stick figures in yoga poses on cupcakes. Everyone chose their favorite yoga pose for dessert and we all wore yoga pants. I kept the menus simple so we could enjoy the time together. The balloons and the firetruck cake were a big hit. Sharing a birthday month with my Grandson and Grandfather make me think of the little girl in the book, looking forward to the change of season.

Autumn is my favorite season. I love the chilly mornings and warm afternoons. I look forward to soup in the kettle, knitting in the evening, and warm apple crisp. Later this morning I am going to try a new recipe for pumpkin scones. These first quiet days of autumn are very good.

Changing Seasons

Last weekend was Labor Day.  The breeze carries a dusty autumn scent and I am wearing a light jacket on my walks. Although the trees are still green, I don't zig and zag across neighborhood streets to stay in their shade.  Instead I savor the warm sun on my back.  My son bought the "soup making trinity" of carrots, celery, and onions" and I purchased small tart apples at the Farmer's Market. Cooler days are coming.

Three day weekends are great for catching up on chores, reading, and spending time with family.  Early in the Labor Day weekend, I celebrated my sixtieth birthday. My family honored me with lunch and dessert at my daughter's home.  We went there so my grandson, almost a year old, could take his nap on schedule.  Earlier in the day, my daughter set her dining room table, a beautiful piece of furniture that belonged to my grandmother Helen, in sage green and lavender, one of my favorite color combinations.   She cut lavender from her yard.

Neither my sister or I could remember when Gram acquired the table and chairs but we both recalled many holidays and birthdays celebrated around Gram's table.  I remember carrying food to the table when I was a girl. My favorite meals were Sunday night suppers of lunch meat, white bakery bread, potato chips, and dip made of cream cheese and garlic salt.  Gram occasionally served a few carrot sticks as a nod to healthier eating. Many meals involved some version of 1950's jello. Later, my children's toddler birthdays were celebrated at the same table.

As my husband, daughter, sister, spouses, children, and I ate my birthday lunch, my grandson enjoyed cut up fruit and small pieces of meat and bread. He is the fifth generation to share meals at this table.  After lunch, the baby took a nap and we enjoyed a sinfully rich chocolate birthday cake baked by my sister. The men retired to watch the Nebraska football game while my sister and I knitted and visited with our daughters. I know my parents and grandparents would have loved the day.

I couldn't have asked for a better celebration. There was no black crepe paper or gag gifts to dump up in the landfill.  Instead my sister gave me a beautiful scarf she had knitted. My daughter and her husband gave me  a "Life is Good" t shirt which I will wear. I received a handmade card from my grandson. My husband brought me roses which I enjoyed. My son sent me a hand crafted yarn bowl for use with knitting projects.  At sixty, the season is changing but life is indeed good.