Just some pretty words for today.
On Foot I Wandered Through the Solar Systems
On foot
I wandered through the solar systems,
Before I found the first thread of my red dress.
Already I have a sense of myself.
Somewhere in space my heart hangs,
emitting sparks, shaking the air,
to other immeasurable hearts.
Edith Södergran
trans. Malena Mörling and Jonas Ellerström
It only took me six months to finish the neutral pair of socks for myself, compared with a year for the pair before that. Such speed! Now, of course, it is far too hot to wear socks but they’ll be ready for me in the fall.
I was also able speed through the stripy sock below mine (thanks, chunky sock yarn). It’s another Sock For Doc’s Pop–it was his birthday this past weekend so I was able to get one sock done but he’ll have to wait a bit for the other one. (He hopefully said, “Father’s Day?” when I told him and I was all, “I’m probably not THAT fast, my good sir.”)
May we all focus on it half as well as Toby is locked on to Gary Squirrel.
Wow. Weeks that end early are way better than weeks that start late, am I right?
1. I’ll read anything about anxiety lately and this, from Lenny, was like it was inside my brain: Good in a Crisis: The upside of lifelong anxiety.
“I mean, I’m still worrying over a History Channel special from five years ago about a rogue comet that could wipe out the globe’s electricity, plunging us into a food crisis. And I only watched the commercial. But when it comes to a sudden emergency, I snap to.”
2. This fine fellow has spent an hour a day throughout his college career learning different things and reports “I really haven’t found a single subject I’m not somewhat interested in.”
All the warm nights
sleep in moonlight
keep letting it
go into you
do this
all your life
do this
you will shine outward
in old age
the moon will think
you are
the moon
Swampy Cree narrative poem
trans. Howard Norman (1972)
Sure, I sewed the fronts on backwards, but I didn’t let that stop me from finishing my second Wiksten Kimono Jacket. I wanted this fabric on my body!
“Help I can’t lower my arms!”
This is a magical cuddly cotton jacquard from Stonemountain. I wanted a blanket-y summer weight jacket, one to take to overly air conditioned movie theaters or scrunch up on a plane, so I didn’t line it. (The jacquard would probably have been happier to have a lining to stabilize it a little but I can throw it in the dryer if it sags out of shape too much.) I did tape all the seams, sew them on the regular machine, and then finish with the serger, just to reinforce it where I could.
I lined the undercollar with plain navy sateen, since I didn’t want to deal with getting interfacing to stick to jacquard and I didn’t want a quadruple thickness of an already-thick fabric up around my neck.
The fabric and the shape are so forgiving you can’t tell I sewed part of it backwards–I love it when sewing has a happy ending. It’s slouchy and soft and makes me feel like I’m wearing one of those woven couch throws from the late 80s.
Friday night: “What’s that you say, Mom? A long weekend? Prince Sir Toby approves.”
Saturday: “What a pleasant day to be color-coordinated on the deck.”
Sunday afternoon, on an urban hike: “Is this stupid or genius?”
Right after we got home Sunday afternoon: “Wow I’m glad we didn’t go for a real hike”
Not shown on Monday: Getting some help at the gym with my lifts and then sewing and organizing allll daaaaay (aka The Best Day).
1. I usually don’t include bras in donations of clothing but it sounds like I should: The Huge Impact of Donated Bras
2. We get a long weekend! I’m so looking forward to not having an appointment or a class or a spring cleaning project. On Monday I’m going to sew and read on the deck and then top it off with knitting and a ridiculous movie.
To continue turning this blog into one big sports metaphor, here’s an essay by journalist Debra Hotaling about trying to find “her” sport her whole life: Sixty and Climbing (via this week’s Lenny Letter).
After weeks of failing to reach a ridiculous hold, my arms suddenly connected with it, as if I’d always known how. Where did that come from? I wondered. How did I do that? My 60-year-old body still holds surprises.
Which makes me think: What else could I do if I were able to stop silently asking permission? Or if I ignored what I thought I knew about what might happen next?
Climbing has re-taught me that there is only right now. I may not have this strong body next week or next year, so I better get moving. I don’t have time to be shy or embarrassed or worry about what anyone else thinks.
I had this text exchange with my friend yesterday:
So I am taking this opportunity to say emphatically I’m no unicorn. I can barely feed the two of us*, sleep is iffy, I haven’t been to the gym since my class ended, that running picture yesterday was taken like three weeks ago, there’s a corner of the yard that’s an absolute wilderness, and even just getting myself ready and out the door every morning feels nearly impossible sometimes. So parents: You’re doing great. We all are. Let’s all get ourselves a sandwich today (and not worry about making food)**.
*True fact: Target had a cereal sale and I brought home four boxes of it yesterday. Doc saw me unloading the bags and I told him with an absolutely straight face, “Here’s our dinner plans for the week!”
**Suggestions on vegetarian recipes/cookbook inspiration welcome.