hopefulness

 There are icicles everywhere. Riding along, you see scads of them, hanging on almost every building. I don't know why some buildings don't have them. It's very cold all the time, but when the sun is bright, I guess there is some melting, because these things are lengthening by the day.

I had finished knitting the hand warmers and gave them to my friend, but I'm knitting another pair with the same yarn. She wears them over thin knitted gloves, and the basic bind-off I use doesn't have any give, really - they could be a little less tight at the opening, and since I have more of the yarn, and they're easy to make, I'm knitting another pair with a different bind-off, and it does seem better. I have a book that's just cast-ons and bind-offs, and it's very handy. Sometimes you buy books you think it would be good to have, and they just accumulate and you wonder why you bought them, but I'm happy I bought this one. 

A year ago, I received a book of Coleridge's poems, which I'd asked for, but they haven't really clicked with me. I enjoyed Malcolm Guite's Mariner, so I guess I'm more interested in the man than in his poetry. But I do like this one which I read today:

All Nature seems at work. Slugs leave their lair -
The bees are stirring - birds are on the wing -
And Winter slumbering in the open air,
Wears on his smiling face a dream of Spring!
And I, the while, the sole unbusy thing,
Nor honey make, nor pair, nor build, nor sing.

Yet well I ken the banks where amaranths blow,
Have traced the fount whence streams of nectar flow.
Bloom, o ye amaranths! bloom for whom ye may,
For me ye bloom not! Glide, rich streams, away!
With lips unbrightened, wreathless brow, I stroll:
And would you learn the spells that drowse my soul?
Work without Hope draws nectar in a sieve,
And Hope without an object cannot live.

- Work Without Hope, composed Feb 21st, 1825

And we know from Emily Dickinson, don't we, that hope's the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.

"make your house fair as you are able"

I gussied up a little thrifted wreath with a short strand of fairy lights and some bright ribbon. It's on the front door. It has "felt" like Christmas since the beginning of December, with prematurely cold temps and snow, which has hung around because it was too cold for it to melt. Now, with Christmas a week away, we're having a warm spell; the snow is almost gone and it will be over sixty tomorrow! (this is why I left some lighter weight sweaters in my closet) However, it may snow again on Tuesday, which would be very nice and rather convenient, if all goes according to the forecast. 

 I've been thinking again about different ways of viewing the seasons. Winter officially begins on Sunday, and ends late March. Meteorologically, all of December, January and February are the winter months. But this article mentioned something I hadn't heard of before this summer, that there's something called solar winter, which is November, December and January. As for summer, and fall, I can understand a solar season. But there is no way, where I live, that February could ever be thought of as a spring month. And March - sometimes, maybe, a little. And so I figured that since this way of thinking dates back to the Middle Ages, it's a European way of thinking, maybe even British, where the climate isn't as harsh. 

Then I picked up Towers in the Mist:

"It was February the fourteenth, ... The gray mist ... had in it a warmth and fragrance that told of the coming of spring. The smell of the earth was in it, a soft wet earth through which the snowdrops had already driven their green spears... It seemed all there behind the mist, the colors of all the springs that had passed and yet would come again, the riotous music of bird song and falling water that would pour over the earth in so short a while. In the darkest days of January one might doubt if it would come again, but on these warm February days one was certain."

                                                                   -   Elizabeth Goudge

And there you have it, straight from an Englishwoman.

I started the mitts for my friend two weeks ago and then didn't touch them again - for various reasons - but they go along quickly and I picked them up again last night. 

I just need to stick with it.

I hope you all are on track with whatever your Christmas preparations are, and are also able to keep yourselves from anything unrealistic. There has to be some way of balancing one's hopes and expectations with one's reality, i.e., time and energy. 

Make your house fair as you are able.
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today;
Love, the Guest, is on the way. 

wool gathering

 

I finished tying the baby quilt today, and it's washed and ready for my friend's little one. I tied it on the "wrong" side, as the floral is so busy - I thought it would just add to it. This gives the whiteness and bit of interest, and hopefully conceal the tasselly ends from their cat - I know how that can be!

Gretchen had asked me what I'm going to knit next, and I thought maybe a shawl, but a friend told me the fingerless mitts I'd made for her years ago finally wore out. So, I ordered yarn to make another pair and am waiting for it to arrive. I remember enjoying making them back then. Let's see if I can do it again without too much head-scratching!

I've been going through my old British Country Living magazines - I kept three issues for each month, not being able to part with them. Until now, but I'm cutting out anything which appeals to me, and putting it all in red folders, one for each month. This will take up way less room! There's a magazine swap bin at the library so they can go there if they aren't too cut up.. A woman named Sally Coulthard had a column every month; she's got a farm and animals and she does country things. Then I saw a book review, of a book she wrote about sheep. I found a copy in a nearby library, and was amazed to find a list of books by her on the back flap - she's written many books! Here are a few. So I guess she's really a writer who also has a farm. 

Anyway, she did lots of research and the book is very interesting. The one I saw in the magazine is called A Short History of the World According to Sheep. The one I have is called Follow the Flock. It has to be the same book. It seems the ancient Scythians were the ones who really mastered the use of felt and they would carry their sheep when they moved around, strapped to the backs of the horses. And, did you know the Romans' shields were covered in felt?  Pliny said, "wool is compressed also for making felt, which when soaked in vinegar is capable of even resisting iron..."  I wonder how true that is.

crawling along

 I awoke nice and early this morning, but the cats were before me; I heard the running, then the skidding, then a bang, as someone hit something - maybe a chair leg. Everyone involved seems fine.

I mentioned a while back that I wanted to get back into knitting. Years ago, somebody donated lots of yarn to the children's department at the library, and a few skeins of it were actual wool. We certainly don't want to use that for crafts, so I got some. I've had it for years, but I'm wanting to use it. I think I have enough to make the Ranunculus, but it requires a certain cast-on that I just couldn't seem to figure out from the youtube videos I've watched, and there are many - this sweater pattern has thousands of women who've made it, and many of them have made it more than once. 

Well, today I pulled down a book I forgot I had, called Cast On Bind Off, and the author's explanation with photos was easier for me to grasp than an actual video. I practiced it on large needles with some super bulky yarn I got from Goodwill, and now I understand the technique. But I've got this thrifted skein of yarn - just the one skein, it's entirely acrylic, I can tell, but it's full of autumnal colors which are so pretty, and I decided to just knit it up into - something. Just a thing, I guess, because I don't really like the yarn and don't want any hat or mittens made from it. But if I just knit a rectangle, maybe it can be - something useful. We'll see what it turns into. 

I'm reading The Sound of a Wild Snail Eating, by Elisabeth Tova Bailey. Very interesting!