5,952 stitches are in the leg of one of my Squid and Ink Socks
11 ounces of Gummie Bears I ate yesterday and today
22.47 dollars is the cost of my next sewing project
3 hours it took to clean the carpets today
1 cute pattern hopped in my shopping cart
17 books are in my library queue
7.50 dollars to repair and sharpen my Ginghers
798 days that Scout has blessed us
137 films in our Blockbuster Online queue
5 skeins of Chinatown Apple to make a February Lady Sweater
The sky is blanketed with a deep velvety blue at this hour. In the distance you can see a blinking red light. An airplane. It coasts in from the North. Where is it going? Where is it coming from? Who are those people that are flying over my little town at that hour?
There are very few lights on at this hour. My living room lets off a pale yellow light. I can only see one other apartment lit at this hour. Why are they still awake? Are they, too, afflicted with insomnia? Or did they merely fall asleep watching late night infomercials and forget to turn off their little lamp?
The apartment creaks. It’s unnoticable when the lights are on. First it’s the dining room wall, then above the guest bathroom, then there’s a slight knock on the sliding glass door. I just washed those. I put the latch on. I lock all the doors. I settle into the microfiber. I automatically search through the dozens of recorded shows. I need to watch them or delete them. I choose to watch them. Seven episodes of Law and Order.
I think of who writes these episodes. Are they conflicted? Do they only see the horrors of the world? Do they stay up til 3:30 in the morning trying to figure out the best way to reach out to the world? Or do they sleep safely in the comfort of their Upper East Side homes, never thinking of how powerful their one hour scripts are?
I think too much at this hour. I do too much. I try to conquer all the household projects that need to be done. There is dirty laundry sitting in the hallway. I stack the newly washed dishes. I match lids to their bowls. I sweep the kitchen from all the crumbs and dust that collects under the lips of each cabinet. I gather toys and think of the little hands that discover them on a daily basis. I check in on the baby and Shawn. They sleep next to each other, mouths slightly open. Their breathing is light and routine. Nothing will disturb them.
I take they yarn into my hands. I smell it. A faint smell of sweet and chemical. I gather my materials. It’s time to finish what I’ve started. And so it begins.
Tulip Cardigan by Dream In Color
Dream In Color Classy: Blue Lagoon and Nightwatch
Size 2, for Scout
This weekend was the epitome of rest and relaxation.
I needed this time to lay my head on the soft feather pillows. To curl up into fetal position and wrap myself in the warmth of a down comforter. I took my time washing dishes, letting the hot soapy bubbles comfort my hands. I made banana bread that vanished within hours. A thick warm slab with margarine and sweet orange honey bought from the local beekeepers. I washed laundry and inhaled the sweet scent of detergent. I folded each piece so caringly for each person that would later wear the item. I bleached the floors and rid the many steps we had taken over the past few weeks, a new floor. Maybe a new beginning. And we all took the time to look for Marilyn who has been missing from both our hearts and our home the past four days. Dalton seems content though. He curls into a ball in the middle of our bed. Sometimes you can see the slight twitch of his ear or the whip of his tail. He sleeps hard through this new silence.
I even took time to browse through a couple of knit magazines, thanks to Shawn’s generosity. One left me utterly disappointed. The other left me completely inspired. I had the opportunity to browse through endless patterns in pattern books at the local fabric shop. I was searching for the absolutely perfect Spring dress for Scout. I think I found it. I also browsed the internet looking for the perfect shade of yarn for a sweater that I hope will wrap me in warmth and reverie.
I’m finding that I am enjoying the weekends more as compared to before when they were draining and filled with all these things that needed to be done. I no longer write a list of twenty or thirty things to do. I follow a routine. My bed is always made, the corners aligned perfectly. The pillows fluffed and placed with precision. I no longer dread washing dishes but enjoy the moments where I can look out the kitchen window and see sparrows chasing each other in the cold winter breeze. I enjoy taking out the trash for the moment I hit the crisp air I can breathe in something new, something different, something clean.
I’m not a new person by all means. I just see things in a different light. Or maybe I had seen them all along but forgot how to project them. But I never forget how to share my knitting. My knitting is a reflection of me, of what I do with my spare time. I wrap and turn and pick up and put down so often and yet I can only share the finished project. I can only show you the beauty of what I do and not how I do it. Every day is both the same and yet, somehow, different.
Nutkin Socks Ravelry’d here
Sundara Sock Next Kiss on US 3 needles
As we were on our way to Disneyland on Friday morning I had an epiphany. Have you ever had one of those moments where things suddenly become so clear? During our drive to Anaheim I noted how the highway twists and turns through the moments.
It made me wonder: who were these men who blasted their way through these mountains that have stood here since the beginning of time? did men die while trying to pave the way for a new freeway? who painted those perfect yellow and white lines that separate each lane?
While the sky above was looming ominously I watched trees, bushes, flowers, grass sweep by. You’d hardly believe that just five months ago there was very hot and destructive wildfires that consumed every bit of brush that the embers could possibly get to. The hills were so lush and beautiful. So much green. And yet there still stood the blackened stumps where trees used to stand so tall. Off to the left of the highway stood a decrepit chimney. You wouldn’t have known that there once stood a very mysterious log cabin.
The further into Los Angeles we drove the more decrepit the building became. Signs posted everywhere: “For Sale”, “For Lease”, “Only $375 a Month”, “Liquidation”, “Going Out of Business”. Buildings marked by grafitti and patches of paint. How some of these businesses continue to linger in such a horrible economy is beyond me. Many buildings have been abandoned. There were more men and women pushing grocery carts, collecting cans, bottles, wire. Anything their greasy hands could hold onto. They were marked, by the weather, by their new “careers”, by hard times.
I took this all in as we drove. I thought to myself how very lucky I am that I have Shawn. That he takes care of me. I thought to myself how very easily it could be us living on the streets if he suddenly lost his job. I’m thankful for what we have even if sometimes I complain that it’s not enough. We always make do.
And we did. We arrived at Disneyland at 8:10 in the morning. We were full from hot chocolate and coffee. Full from the saturated sweetness of the doughnuts we’d purchased: soft, fluffy dough with chocolate, maple, plain glazes. And to our suprise we escaped the crowds. As the day continued we went on the rides. Shawn held me close and I could smell the manly scent of his cologne and sweat. We surmised that Walt Disney would surely be disappointed that they now charge $69 a ticket for admission. Or how people continually purchased $8 slickers that were no more than thin garbage bags. We had steak sandwiches under red and white striped canopies while the drizzle turned into rain. We smelled the sweet scent of just-made-right-this-minute fudge and waffle cones for the ice cream shop. We drooled over all the delicious candies: gummy Goofy’s, chocolate covered Mickey Mouse pretzels, 12 inch lollipops, chocolate dipped strawberries, salt water taffy…We laughed and held hands. We braved the longest line of all- the tram that takes us to the parking lots. We were drenched. I shed my jeans and sweater in the car and thanked God for the heat that the car provided. We talked for the three hours it took for us to get home.
Scout was sick by the time we got home. She held onto a temperature of 102 for three days. But she sucked on the gummy Goofy’s and cradled her new pair of shoes. She pet the soft pink of the insoles but she waited to put them on.
She was even more drawn in by my souvenir, by the softness and the newness:
Somehow her illness brought us closer together. We held her, cradled her, babied her. How I miss the smell of her when she was just six pounds. Her hair is long now. A mess of curls atop her head. She asks you, “What are you doing?” She tells you, “Love you”. We drove her around. We tried to cool her down, heat her up. We bought her a special cup and straw to sip juice from.
And then this morning all was well. It seems that the downpour of rain washed away her illness. She is back to being a funny little two year old who sometimes tells her brother to “shut up” when he talks too much. She runs around the house in her diaper, this is her playground.
In the midst of Disneyland and illness, my illness had gotten worse: laryngitis. But I braved it and decided to knit with a friend at the local coffee shop yesterday. I needed to do the one thing that makes me feel better when nothing else seems to work. I knit. I purled. And I managed to finish something that I’d been working on for a while.
Foggy Seas Scarf
Malabrigo Sock: Cote d’Azure
US 4 needles
6.25″ x 72″
And today? Today I’m enjoying the onslaught of rain. I’m wearing the sweats I stole from Shawn when we first started dating. My hair is wet, but not for long. All the blinds are open to let in what light the clouds will provide. Scout is playing with Jem, they make tents out of the extra blankets and sheets in the linen closet. Sometimes they take a break, but never for very long. I await Shawn coming home so that I can breathe him in and remember that this has all been worth it.
I read somewhere that we spend 1/3 of our life waiting.
For an upcoming storm.
Disneyland.
A change in plans?
Singing to the music on iTunes.
Silver lined clouds on the horizon.
Strawberries squished in Scout’s hands.
The smells of beef stew wafting through the kitchen.
Thursday.
Simple.
Cat napping in the middle of the bed.
A thin band of silver around my finger.
More knitting.
Knitting progress around has been pretty steady. My Foggy Seas Scarf is about sixty percent done, (maybe a little more). I finished Shawn’s Thorpe and afterwards I decided that I should cast on for something else. Afterall, I’ve knit two hats and a pair of socks. If I wanted to I could finish up the Mosey Legwarmers really quick and have four FO’s for 2009. That’s an idea.
But casting on was really getting my fingers itchin’. That’s why I have the blue-greens.
Dream In Color Classy: Blue Lagoon (top) and Nightwatch
Intentions: Tulip Baby Cardigan for Scout, (this will be a two tone cardigan)
Other than that, well life is pretty predictable. One person in the household gets sick and eventually we all do. There is a nice onslaught of rain meaning I can break out the thick socks and knit sweaters. I’ve been guzzling my own little recipe of hot apple cider in hopes that it will heal my throat. Cartoons have been our choice TV shows. All is normal here. Save for the blue-greens.
At a coffee house.
Knitting.
Croissant.
Steamed Caramel Apple Cider. (times two)
Sleeping in on a Saturday morning – there’s nothing better.
Cloudy skies.
The sound of the water dripping from the rain gutters.
Sore throat.
Hot tea with honey.
Package of Sundara in the mail.
Lazy weekend.
Thick socks.
Finished Thorpe.
Made with Woolganic Australian Merino Wool, probably one of the softest wools I’ve ever worked with. Another plus is that it has some of the nicest stitch definition I’ve ever seen.
Today is a completely random day.
The wet asphalt reminds me of rainy days in elementary school.
Icy cold droplets beat to their own rhythm.
Runny noses.
Jeans and thermal weather.
Starting a new book.
Freshly folded towels.
Scout twirling around like a ballet dancer. So light on her toes.
Dalton lapping water up from the puddles on the walkway.
A hearty meal of soup and french bread.
Keeping warm under a multitude of blankets and quilts.
A new project.
Shawn’s Thorpe in a Navy Australian Organic Wool (uber soft to knit)
Scout posing for pictures.
Scout pretending she doesn’t seem the camera.
Stick her with a fork, she’s d.o.n.e.
Not much going on at the homefront but for a speedy 29th birthday, (Shawn’s), runny noses, (Scout), pink eye, (Jem), and trying to get into the groove of 2009. I’ve found that catching up to all of my household duties has been a real struggle. But I’ve made the time to get most things back into working order and have made even more time to do some IRS tax return shopping. I leave you with my fiberlicious finds.
Caramel Apple Fingering Silky Merino by Sundara (this was the Autumn shipment which I don’t subscribe to, I was lucky enough to buy two skeins from someone destashing)
Intention: February Lady Sweater
Blue Sky Alpacas Alpaca and Silk
Intention: Originally I bought it because the color and then I thought about Henley Perfected, then I realized I didn’t have enough hanks so I’m opting for Silk Shrug
Navy Blue 100% Organic Wool
Intention: Thorpe and scarf for Shawn
Rowan Chunky Print
Intention: owls sweater
Lest you think that was all of my yarn shopping I should advise you that it was not. I just scored during a Sundara update- two skeins sock yarn and one skein silk lace. (There’s another update tomorrow, do I dare?) I also lucked out on someone destashing Vesper and Sundara Limited Edition sock yarn. I’m waiting for the postman to deliver those.
So what does one do with all of this string stuff? One knits.
