In an effort to “get a hobby away from my hobby” I put on some classical music last night. (Okay, I listened to it while I knitted. But not the whole time.) I have a recording of the violin concerto by Jean Sibelius that my least-favorite violin teacher gave to me years ago. Because it reminded me of the violin teacher, I think avoided listening to it. But the violinist is Jascha Heifetz and now I realize I my mistake.
BABY PANDAS!
Because The Yarn Needs A New Home, Too
Sometime last week, I decided the current yarn storage situation needed to change:
(What this picture doesn’t show is the bag of yarn in the closet.)
So I bought a lined basket about twice the size of the current basket. But I wasn’t satisfied with the existing lining, oh no. I wanted a drawstring top, and a fancy print fabric, and a pocket inside. After much swearing, starting over, and re-engineering, I got what I wanted:
A pocket and a fancy print lining:
On Marriage
Sorry, It’s All I Have Today:
The Beginning Of A New Beginning
Yes, it’s time for another Druidic festival! This one’s a “cross-quarter” day, meaning it’s not a solstice or an equinox. (There’s also a Christian equivalent, Candlemas, so nobody feels compromised reading this blog post.)
The festival? Imbolc, celebrating the very beginning of spring and all it entails, including lambing season, early bulbs, longer days, etc. Brigid, later a saint but first a Celtic goddess, is celebrated along with it and people used to have all sorts of fun making predictions for the coming growing season (Groundhog Day, anyone?).
So praise the lord God (or St. Brigid, or whomever), we made it through another winter. Here are some fun things to do today:
It is traditional upon Imbolc, at sunset or just after ritual [because you’re all performing rituals, I know you are], to light every lamp in the house – if only for a few moments. Or, light candles in each room in honour of the Sun’s rebirth. Alternately, light a kerosene lamp with a red chimney and place this in a prominent part of the home or in a window.
If snow lies on the ground outside, walk in it for a moment, recalling the warmth of summer. With your projective hand [I assume the dominant hand? Maybe it’s your most magical hand?], trace an image of the Sun on the snow.
And don’t mind the stares from the neighbors.
When Is It Official?
When I get a cat? When I get five cats? When I can’t use my hands anymore? Is there an official point you reach to becom a Crazy Knitting Lady?
Because it seemed perfectly normal to watch both Kill Bill movies (talk about Madame Defarge!) until one in the morning and finish the cabled fingerless gloves (the right one was begun and completed last night, a new record). It also seemed normal, when I discovered I was out of my special wool wash, to use my shampoo instead. As I told myself, “Wool is just hair, really.”
On the bright side, they turned out very nicely and the yarn colors are perfect for early spring–like a Beatrix Potter illustration. When the gloves are dry, I’ll put up a picture; in the meantime, enjoy Peter and Benjamin:
Multi-purpose
Oh, the mileage that you can get out of a poem…I’ve used parts of this one for a post about trees, a post about finishing a sweater, and now this:
it was this night I believe but possibly the next
I saw clearly the impossibility of staying
Wait and see–I bet I can get at least two more mentions out of it before it’s done.
Questions
There’s a long poem by Mark Strand called Dark Harbor, and one section of it starts out,
“How can I sing when I haven’t the heart,
Or the hope that something of paradise
Persists in my song?”
Today, I will demonstrate how easily poems by other people can be adapted to one’s own circumstances. Look!
“How can I post when I haven’t an idea,
Or the hope that I’ll find something to rent
In my range?”