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