Anniversary Sweater

In mid-July 2012, I began looking for a knitting project to soothe my way through the back to school routine and mother of the groom moments. Aaron was being married three weeks after my fall semester began.  After rummaging through storage bins, I decided to make a sweater from a mohair/wool yarn I had purchased ten years ago. "Tiur" by Dale of Norway is a soft, warm, sturdy yarn but I wondered why I had chosen the bright color. Maybe I had been thinking of Gram. She loved pink in all shades. She painted her nails, the kitchen cupboards, bathroom walls, and woodwork pink. She also knit several pink sweaters.  Even though I had reservations about knitting the yarn, she would have loved the color and the sweater.

As I worked the test swatch, I remembered the day I bought the yarn. Lance and I had traveled to New England to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary. That rainy, damp October day, we took a break from looking at fall foliage to have lunch in Laconia, New Hampshire.  After eating beside a fireplace in a cozy sandwich shop, Lance went out to the car with a book and I headed into the small yarn shop. The owner knitted behind the counter as I examined yarn and labels. When I finally made my selection, she gave me good advice on yardage for a cardigan.

Ten years later while browsing Ravelry, I discovered the Miriam cardigan published by Quince and Company.  Located in Maine, the independent company sells patterns created by company owners as well as independent designers. They spin yarn from American wool and fibers grown in an earth friendly manner. The pattern and the yarn were a good match.

As I knit the body of the sweater in July and into August, the knitting collected my anxious thoughts and good wishes for my son's wedding. The rehearsal dinner, wedding, and reception went well. Aaron and Jacque celebrated in their unique way with friends and family. During the reception, I danced with my son to Louis Armstrong's, "What a Wonderful World."

As August melted into September and October, I knit the sleeves of the sweater. After knitting six inches I knew they would be too wide so I ripped them out. I cast on fewer stitches but increased the sleeve width at the rate called for in the pattern. Late October, I blocked the sweater and held my breath while sewing up the sleeve seams. I worried they might be too tight around the upper arm but was pleased to find the sweater fit well. Before knitting the front band, I washed and blocked the sweater.

Three days ahead of our 35th wedding anniversary,  I picked up over 200 stitches to knit the front band onto the cardigan. On November 20th we went out to our favorite local restaurant to mark the anniversary. Wearing the sweater that evening would have made a tidy ending to this story.  However, I had no desire to knit furiously to meet a self-imposed deadline. I did knit one row on the evening of the 20th so the sweater would include a remembrance of our 35th anniversary.  Four days later at the end of the Thanksgiving weekend, I knit the last stitches of the sweater.  Now, I look forward to wearing the sweater and recalling our anniversaries and my wedding dance with Aaron.

I've also decided to quit fretting over accumulated yarn in my closets. Perhaps yarn, like seasoned marriages, benefits from time to create rich stories and warm sweaters.

Local Produce: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Wool

Ten days ago, the season changed. Light in the early evening  is golden and over night temperatures dip down to freezing. I love autumn and mark the season with my own rituals. One night I picked the remaining rosebuds and several bouques of lavender. The next evening, I filled three colanders with herbs. As I washed and laid them on a paper towel, the scent of parsley, sage, rosemary, thyme, oregano, and chives filled the kitchen. After a few hours on the counter, I stacked the towels in two piles and put them in the fridge. In a few weeks, I'll crumble them and put them in containers in my kitchen cupboards. Since this is the first year I've grown sage, I'm looking forward to seasoning soups, roasted chicken, and the Thanksgiving turkey.

Sage

I also continue knitting on warm weather gear. Among other projects, I am working on the Deephaven Cowl in Prairie Silk yarn by Brown Sheep Company. The textured stitches keep the project interesting but not so challenging I can't knit on them in the evening at the end of my work day. The periwinkle color suits me and the yarn is dense, warm, and soft to the touch.

When I bought the yarn twelve years ago, I knew the company was located in Mitchell, Nebraska. Brown Sheep Company manufactures and dyes yarn on a farm that has been in their family for several generations. Owners, Peggy and Robert Wells buy most of their wool from growers in northern Colorado and southern Wyoming. In addition, they have developed a process to reuse 70-90% of the water used in the manufacturing process. The Prairie Silk line has been discontinued but the company has other yarns available. Maybe the slight silk content of the yarn didn't meet Brown Sheep criteria for environmentally friendly manufacturing or maybe obtaining and/or manufacturing yarn with silk was too expensive. However, their other yarns are a good quality. I've enjoyed using the Lamb's Pride worsted for warm hats and mittens. More recently, I knit a Christmas stocking for my grandson from Lanaloft Sports Weight yarn. The yarn felt good in my hands and worked well for the intarsia pattern.

Now, knitting the cowl brings back memories of the trip my daughter and I took to celebrate our milestone birthdays of twenty one and fifty. At her suggestion, we drove west to Montana. Along the way, we hiked around Devil's Tower in Wyoming, drove the Bear Tooth Pass, and stayed at a lovely old hotel in Red Lodge, Montana. We enjoyed the shops and restaurants in Red Lodge. By the time we arrived, the local yarn shop owner had moved the shop to her home. After a phone call, we meandered around the outskirts of Red Lodge and located the shop where I bought the Prairie Silk. Like most knitters I buy yarn from many sources but I try to support local businesses and increasingly, I like to know how yarns are produced.  I also like the idea of a warm wrap around my neck in December and January.

One Foot in Autumn

Even though it is mid August, the season is changing. I feel as if I have one foot in summer and the other in autumn.  We are still eating garden ripened tomatoes but the cucumber vines have dried up.  My summer home improvement and organization projects are not quite finished but I am two weeks into the fall school semester. While much of the midwest remains extremely dry, temperatures cooled off this past week.

On August 17, I drove into the school parking lot and spent a few minutes watching parents and children arrive for the first day of the new year. Some children run eagerly for the door while others hang back with their parents. Dads with cameras dangling from their wrists hold small hands. Moms tie shoes or adjust straps on backpacks before one last hug. I remember when Kate and Aaron set out for a new school year and suddenly seemed a year older and closer to being grown up. Those first days are over but next weekend brings another milestone celebration. Aaron is marrying a wonderful young woman. Although I plan to leave photos to the professional, I know there will be plenty of hugs and perhaps a few tears to go around. Then, after the party is over and my dear family leaves for home, I plan to spend a few quiet hours knitting.

Last week as we opened the house to cool mornings and evenings, I retrieved some of cooler weather  knitting projects.  I finished the summer knitting on  Nice Ribbed Socks  in "Vancouver Violet" sock yarn by Blue Moon Fiber Art.  I pulled out the Greenfield Cardigan I put away last Spring when having the growing wool/mohair project in my lap was too warm.

I'm swatching for another cardigan from yarn I bought ten years ago on our twenty fifth anniversary trip. Somewhere an unfinished soft gray Wool Peddlers Shawl lurks in the dark recesses of a closet.  Both the shawl and the unnamed cardigan have a story to tell. I'll keep you posted.    

Watering the Cucumbers

The cucumbers growing in my raised bed are plentiful. Most years, I preserve the first batch of bread and butter pickles in late July. However, this summer I pulled the third batch from the canner on July 21. I've gone from platters of cucumbers to enough pickles for another year. This makes my family happy as store bought pickles don't have the same flavor.  

As the smell of vinegar, celery seed, and tumeric wafted up from the kettle, I thought of my grandmothers and great grandmothers. None of them had air conditioning. When my great grandmothers worked in farm kitchens, they hauled fuel to cookstoves and pumped water to clean vegetables. If they wanted a drink, they took a dipper from a nail on the wall and filled a glass from a pail of water on the counter. They emptied dirty water into another container and poured it on flowers and gardens. Great Grandmother Dickinson was relieved when she moved from a soddy in Custer County Nebraska to a Dawson County farm with a large windmill. Instead of collecting water in a cistern and filtering out bugs and weeds through a sieve, she used a pump in her yard. Even though it required hauling heavy buckets to the kitchen, she and her family were mighty grateful for more accessible clean cool water.

This July the temperatures have been in the high 90's or over 100 degrees. Lincoln has been without rain for 29 days so I've been watering more frequently. Trying to be conservative, I water in the evening or morning and lay the hose on the cucumbers. I use a drip hose to water tomatoes and basil plants. Now and then I put my Granddad's sprinkler in the herb garden. I learned about gardening from him so I enjoy using the small semi circular sprinkler with holes on the top. The sprinkler is so worn water runs through the seams along the bottom. Since it all soaks into the ground, I don't worry about the goofy looking spray. When I turn the water on or off, I place the hose near a plant in order to take advantage of the first and last drops of moisture. Whatever method I use, I minimize evaporation by making sure the water flows gently near the ground.

A few nights ago, I turned on the spigot before walking to the hose in the cucumbers. For a few minutes, no water appeared. After looking around, I straightened a kink in the hose and watched cold water disappear into large cracks in the ground. Those few minutes made me pause and wonder what life be like if I turned either the spigot or the inside faucet and no water was available. Then what?

The grass in our yard is brittle, brown, and going dormant while the large clump birch drops leaves. Mother Nature is conserving water for the trunk and root systems of these plants as there is no rain in the immediate forecast. Dear ones, known and unknown, take care in the heat and drink plenty of cool, clear water.  I'm heading to the basement with lemonade and my knitting for my last few days of summer vacation.

Through the eyes of a toddler

My daughter and her family are staying with us while they are in between homes. While intergenerational living challenges the adults, there are benefits. Kate and Patrick had a place to stay while they waited to move into their new/old house. Kate and I shared grocery shopping and cooking which meant delicious dinners from new recipes. Patrick dug a hole for a new tree in the backyard which my husband and I appreciated.  Lance's new knee and my back don't stand up well to hard physical labor. Perhaps, best of all, we shared some wonderful moments with our grandson.

At 21 months old, E. is a whirling dervish falling in love with his world. Although he pushes trucks, throws balls, and enjoys books, the natural world is his best playground. Starlings splashing in rain water delight him. He points out the window and announces "tweet tweet'' when gold finches land at the feeder. Evenings he waters potted plants very seriously and then turns the hose on his parents and plays in the spray. His little body works well so he runs with gusto before suddenly stopping to watch leaves sway in the breeze. The bindweed in our yard doesn't phase him. Instead he runs his thumb over the center of a spent daisy and watches seeds float onto his bare feet. Smelling the neighbors onions makes him giggle. He lingers over cone flowers comparing prickly centers in various stages of bloom. He asks for "more" when a rabbit dares to hop across the trail and out of his sight. When Kate walks in at the end of the day, he grins and shouts "Mama." In the bathtub after a busy day, he hollers to protest the water being poured over his head. Once dry and in pj's, he chooses two bedtime books, listens to them before giving a goodnight pat to his dog and loves to his parents and grandparents.

Kate and Patrick have given E. a wonderful first year and a half. However, he is a toddler so there are still things to learn. He says "no" when he means "yes" and "up" when he wants someone to pick him up out of his high chair in order to get down. Yesterday after his nap, he sat on my lap to read a pile of books. He pointed to turtles, toothbrushes, and dragonflies. A few days ago, he figured out how to turn knob to open the front door. Today, our house is quiet while E. helps his very patient Dad unpack boxes and totes. As for me, I am looking forward to E's discoveries on the other side of the new front door.

Garden and Garter Stitch Time of Year

Earlier this Spring, I cast on a Wool Peddler's Shawl in a soft gray shade of alpaca and a Greenfield Cardigan in a soft blue wool/mohair blend. I also had an ever present wash cloth on my knitting needles. All three projects are knit with the humble garter stitch. When I needed a respite from the end of school year paperwork on my desk, I set aside the more complicated Tintern Abbey socks and finished the wash cloth. Then I spent evenings with either the sweater or the shawl.  We recently traveled to attend my niece's high school graduation and I worked on the sweater during the trip. Eventually the finished sweater will hold memories of a beautiful young woman singing at her graduation as well as her weekend celebration with happy friends and family. The shawl will tell a different story which I'll save for another post. Both projects have grown in size so they will be stashed away for knitting on autumn afternoons or winter evenings.  In August when the fall semester and paperwork begins again, the garter stitch projects will be ready for knitting.

Right now summer beckons with less hectic longer days and warmer evenings. I look forward to more time for reading, walking, and playing with my grandchildren. I have two bedrooms to paint. I'll also spend some time tending vegetables and herbs while keeping the weeds from wrapping around the wildflowers and tomatoes. As quickly as I clean bindweed from the perennial flower bed, it grows back. I've tried bark mulch, a natural weed killer made from corn, newspaper covered with dirt as a mulch, hoeing, hacking, untwisting, and pulling. The weed is stubborn. Ground cover may be my next solution. The bind weed and sedum can wage a turf war while I sit on the deck and watch the lettuce grow.

Knitting Across Time and Place

One of the things I love about knitting is the connection to knitters across time and place. Right now, I'm knitting a pair of socks called Tintern Abbey by Brenda Dayne. This sock pattern is based on the gothic arches of Tintern Abbey located in Wales where Dayne lives, designs, and produces Cast On, a very well done knitting podcast.

I chose this pattern for both the elegant design and the opportunity to learn how to knit socks from toe up instead of from the cuff down method. The pattern includes directions for a Sherman Toe and Sherman Heel. According to Dayne, "the Sherman Heel fits like a glove." I have a narrow foot with an even narrower heel so I thought the method was worth trying. I'm anxious to finish and try on the sock. Because I rarely knit a pattern without modifying it, I'm using double pointed needles rather than two circulars. I also made my preferred sock toe because I know it will fit.

While knitting the foot as specified in the pattern, I listened to an audio book and some knitting podcasts. However when I was ready to tackle the Sherman Heel, I turned off the audio. While Dayne's pattern includes a well written and photographed tutorial for both the Sherman toe and heel, I needed quiet to study the directions. One step in the heel refers to gusset stitches without giving a specific number. When I looked at the stitches on my needles, I easily sorted two sets of gusset stitches from those of the instep and heel. Although Dayne and I have never met, we share an understanding of sock construction handed down by generations of knitters. In fact, one of my great great grandmothers lived on a farm in Southeast Iowa where she spun yarn to knit wristlets, mittens, socks, and shawls. Although she probably knit socks using the traditional top down method, I doubt she had access to commercially written patterns. Some time, while knitting six pairs of socks, I began to understand knitting in the way of my great great grandmother and that pleases me.

Most interestingly, I'm not sure I'd have come to this conclusion if I had been funneling stories into my mind via an ipod. While I'm not going to give up listening to books and podcasts, I'm going to limit my audio and screen time to make room for quiet thoughts to wander into my mind.  I'll let you know how it goes.