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... too magical to touch. To see him in that handnknit thing is really just too much!
Submit to Yarnival!
Deadline is Saturday, folks. Only two days to show me what you've got.
I still don't have a hunk, by the way. You know every Yarnival! has its Page Three Boy, right? And while he's a total dreamboat in diapers, I'd rather not use the Biscuit.
Ijust need a centerfold. Is that too much to ask?
It's raining, it's pouring, my photos are boring. I went to bed and lost my head and couldn't blog in the morning. Until.
So I cheated a bit on the self-portrait. That's me on the left. On the right, my beautiful Bird, who left me a pointed comment on the last post. She's right. If I have time to blog, I have time to call my pregnant sister.
Speaking of comments, I'm about to reach the quadruple digits! Should you be, say, the quadruple-digit-and-first, I've got a little something for ya...
Thanks, Cara. Again.
Meathead, according to Urban Dictionary:
"An enormously muscular guy who cannot hold a conversation about anything other than weight-lifting and protein shakes. Gets upset very quickly when he cannot complete his own sentences and thoughts. Can be found at nightclubs wearing shirts that are 10 sizes too small (if at all). They are by far the most closely related human beings to that of apes, chimpanzees, and other primate[s]. They are evolutionary hindered and are less capable of following directions than my dead hampster."
Whew. And I thought I'd have another couple of years before the phrase "dead hampster" would appear on this blog. Aren't we glad Larissa's taking back the word? Though Adrian clearly set the standard, I thought I'd throw my hat into the ring (har, har). The one and one half hours it took to knit this were pleasurable, but the 20 minutes of searching through my mother's old button stash for the just-right embellishment were just what this worn out gal needed yesterday.
Here's a modelled shot, courtesy of my most elfin student:
Oh pointy hat, o pointy, pointy...
I'll be busy answering your emails and catching up on bloglines today and tomorrow. Don't forget to submit to Yarnival!
With a lantern that wouldn't burn
In too frail a buggy we drove
Behind too heavy a horse
Through a pitch-dark limitless grove,
And a man came out of the trees
And took our horse by the head
And reaching back to his ribs
Deliberately stabbed him dead.
The ponderous beast went down
With a crack of a broken shaft.
And the night drew through the trees
In one long invidious draft.
We assumed that the man himself
Or someone he had to obey
Wanted us to get down
And walk the rest of the way.
- "The Drafthorse" by Robert Frost
I knit this cashmere cowl at her bedside. It kept me from staring at the monitor with its neon skylines, from focusing too much on the rhythm of the respirator, from punishing myself for not being able to think of anything else that was soothing to say. Last night I drew the thread through the final stitch to finish it off. It wasn't easy. But I wanted to wear it today.
Tell me, those of you who have knit through crisis- do the stitches hold onto the time in which they were made? Will this cowl- fragile but oh, so warm- always, the whole long rest of the way, mean Melissa to me? I hope so.
It's funny being a happy heathen at a Christian school. Do I point out to the kids the similarity between Iphigenia's sacrifice at the hands of Agamemnon and Abraham's near-slaying of his son Issac? What do I do when a child points out that the "myth" of Pandora smacks of Eve in the Garden? Can I use the word "myth" and "Christianity" in the same sentence without having my ass handed to me on a pink slip? (Yes, we are studying the Greeks, and yes, that was an Artemis you spied.) And then there are the chapels. I think it's a lovely way to start the day- in quiet contemplation, in a beautiful space, with music, in community. But then my bumbling self can't quite figure out the right level of lip movement- none? mild synching? - that I should attempt during prayers. I want peace, I want healing, I wish for gentler times. But I do not ask this in the name of Jesus. I ask it in my own, and I ask it of myself.
The hymn I can really get into- no lip-synching- is "Simple Gifts." It is, after all, a dance song. And I like to boogie. I also wish to be simpler, freer, in the "place just right." (She said as she contemplated that skein of Tilli Thomas sequin stuff- how Shaker of me.) Despite our enormous loss, I feel I've been blessed so many times by all of you in the past two weeks. I've read and reread your comments. I received this beautiful box from Ashley- oh, how perfect the spicy chocolate is! Cathi even offered that precious coin of knitterly love- afghan squares. Which got me to thinking...
I need to make something for Timmy. An afghan might be just the thing...in a few months. But for now, while my life is awash in scraps of paper covered in phone numbers, all these voices asking what can I do, what can I bake, when can I show up, why did this happen...now is the time for something simple. Now is the time for a hat.
So I have two requests.
One: Any suggestions for hat yarn? I need something durable and soft that comes in good colors- don't we all? I plan to do something basic with a stripe, maybe, and a hem. Any and all suggestions are welcome. Please.
Two: Yarnival! Read previous issues here and here, and look to Cara to post the third one tomorrow. Please send me the simple gift of your submission through this link. To quote the dudely one: "Yarnival, People! Yarnival!"
And thank you, again.
You may not be hearing from me for a couple of days. A dear friend has suffered a terrible tragedy, the kind that calls for many hours spent sleeping on hospital floors, the freezing of casseroles, and the wringing of hands. I wish I could say I have been able to knit through this- not only for selfish reasons, but because I really do believe that the sight of a person knitting in the ICU would communicate something peaceful, something mending. But that is not the role that falls to me right now.
I miss you all- your words, your photos. I'll be back soon. Meanwhile, I'm pleased to report that I'll be editing the next edition of Yarnival! (I believe the exclamation point is integral.) Submit your funniest, your proudest, your most thoughtful, your whackiest, your most tangled and your smoothest knitting blog posts by way of this form. I, for one, can't wait.
