Month: November 2011

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    This morning I’m thinking thankful thoughts. Tomorrow morning I’ll be busy with the turkey, the potatoes, the gravy, the dressing, the vegetables, the pies, whipping the cream, making the coffee….but this morning, for a few minutes before my busy day begins, there is enough quiet time to really think thankfully.

    As I pack a thermos of coffee and sandwiches for his lunch, I’m so thankful for a husband who has provided faithfully, never complaining of the responsibility, for more than 40 years. Thankful for his cheerfulness as he faces another long day of hard work, for his positive outlook and his eternal optimism, for his ability to enjoy every single day of life. Thankful for his love.

    As I look around, at my snug, warm home, filled with things I love and reminders of all the people I love, I’m thankful for home. Thankful that our children and grandchildren love to come home, want to be with us, and have the means to come home. I love home when it is quiet and still and orderly and serene, and I love the way it will be tomorrow — messy and noisy and filled up with beloved people and their activities.

    As I look at my long to-do list for today, I’m thankful for the groceries in my cupboards, my warms-right-up stove, the convenience of a refrigerator, a dishwasher, and a trusty washer and dryer in the laundry room. My busy day would be so different without these conveniences–things our great-grandmothers never imagined, yet 75 years later we mostly take for granted.

    As I look at my desk calendar, filling up with busyness for this holiday season, I’m thankful for people with whom I share interests and beliefs–a loving church family, friends who are willing to tackle big projects for the greater good, wonderful neighbors–they all enrich our lives so much.

    As I listen to the morning’s news, some of it good and some of it pretty bad, I’m reminded again of the blessing of living where we do. With all its faults and failings, America is still where I’d want to live, hands down.

    And as I begin this day’s work, I’m thankful for the ability to do it–physically. I’m thankful for the immeasurable blessing of good health and sound (mostly) mind. So very thankful…

    Every day, I’m thankful for these things, not just at Thanksgiving. But most days I don’t take the time to write them down, and some days I don’t even verbalize them. Today I pause to spell them out, word by word, and I realize the real value of setting aside a specific time of Thanksgiving.

    And now I’m ready to get busy: a final dusting of the furniture and then to the kitchen for making cornbread and chopping up celery and onions for the dressing like my mom taught me to make it, baking pumpkin and pecan pies, a squash casserole that will remind us of my summer garden, a cranberry salad from my husband’s cousin who is one of the best cooks I’ve ever known….

                          

    Fill in the blank: “It just wouldn’t be Thanksgiving without _____________________.”

  • At bedtime last night, promises were made: we’d take a nature hike this morning, NO MATTER WHAT. Some little people know how to ensure promises will be kept. So, although the morning was blustery and cloudy, off we set.

    After a quick hello to the horses, we chose our route: the dry creek bed behind our house.

    We climbed down into the gully, our fearless head hiker leading the way through the brambles, scrambling down the steep bank. Notice his vest? Hunter orange was part of our wardrobe — no chances taken, since we’re still in deer season.



    The horses were curious — perhaps they wanted to go along. “Bye, guys.”

    This creekbed can be filled with a raging torrent when we get lots of rain. Today it was completely dry.

    We’re always on the lookout for rocks with holes that go all the way through. Those we carry home for our collection. This one failed the test (whew!)

    A bright bit of blue caught our eye–a speck of aged glass.

    Climbing was the order of the day, especially for our fearless leader.


    I love gnarled tree roots.

    We wondered: could this be the tusk of a woolly mammoth? or the leg bone from a long-extinct dodo bird? Maybe the remains of a buffalo from 150 years ago?

    This rock fence surrounds a hay field, the efforts of a long-ago farmer still in evidence.

    Today, the field wears green — wheat for next spring’s harvest.

     
    Our treasures:

    It was good to be outside, knowing that the imminent winter won’t allow many hikes like this.

  • Knitting soothes my soul.

                           

    (a simple shawlette made of alpaca–dreamy to touch!)

    It really does. The rhythmic in and out of the needles, smoothly sliding back and forth in a pattern, effortlessly weaving a web of silky yarn, soft and soothing in my hands, warming my lap, pleasing to my eyes…it’s almost hypnotic. I sit and knit, and an hour slips by without my even knowing it. And suddenly I come out of my trance to realize that the single strand has taken shape, has turned into something substantial and recognizable. And before long, a few days or more, I find myself binding off and weaving in loose ends and — it’s finished. And I loved every stitch along the way.

                            

    (This yarn is Noro Silk Garden–the BEST colors are made by the artists at Noro.
    I made a ruffled scarf out of yummy yarn. It is long and wraps a couple of times.)

    That’s the beauty of knitting. The process is satisfying AND the end result is pleasing. But there is way more. Even before the knitting begins to take shape, the fun begins. I love choosing a pattern, going into a yarn shop and touching all the yarns, fingering their softness and their texture and imagining how they will look knitted into something. I love the racks of knitting supplies, needles of all sizes and bags of all shapes. Books and patterns and inspiration all around. Stitch markers and scissors and tape measures and all manner of tools to answer every need. But most of all, it’s the yarn, the fibers of all sorts — wool, cotton, synthetics, even soy and bamboo — spun into rich, colorful strands that become the most important tool of all.
     
                                     

    (My friend, Anniemockingbird, told me about this little pattern. It’s called a Potato Chip Scarf, because “they” say you can’t make just one! Everyone who sees this wants one. And it’s SO simple…a spiral.)

    Yarn chosen and brought home in bags of promise, the process of creation begins. I love pulling out my needles and deciding which ones will work best, the sleek, shiny steel ones or the smooth, organic wooden ones. Sometimes I’ll cast on with one set and decide another would be better with this particular fiber, so I unravel and make a new beginning. I’ll knit an inch or so, to see if the gauge is going to work, and sometimes I’ll unravel and cast on again, adding or subtracting stitches to make a needed adjustment. I’m not impatient or hurried about this. I’ve learned something: I want to be pleased with the end result, so I take my time and get the proper start.
                         

    (My WIP–work in progress: a cowl that will be very long, to wrap around the neck a couple of times and still not fit tightly. This is knit on a circular needle–called knitting in the round. It is continuous–no seams.)

    Then I knit, only at night. I don’t allow myself to knit during the day — too many other duties and I don’t want any guilt. Night time is my knitting time. I sit down for a couple of hours and let the relaxation begin. Sometimes my background accompaniment is a ballgame, sometimes a movie, sometimes just music, depending on the whim of my farmboy. It really doesn’t matter to me because that is secondary to what my hands are doing.
                             

         
                

    (The pattern is interesting yet very simple, only four rows and two of them are simply knit around. The other two have yarn-overs which create the holes and make it look complicated — but it’s not! I wish you could see the little hint of glitz — this wonderful yarn is another alpaca so is divinely soft and has just a speck of shine every now and then. Its name is “Flicker.”)

    Another thing I’ve learned that keeps knitting happy for me is to be very selective with patterns. I won’t knit a sweater or a very lacy, fine shawl, not because I can’t but because that would turn knitting into work. And I don’t need more work. Following a complicated set of repeats that requires intense concentration might yield an intricate, lovely pattern but it will also yield a frustrated me. I avoid frustration. I keep it simple, choosing patterns of which I can be assured of the end result. With sumptuous yarn, even the simplest design turns into a work of art. I let the yarn speak for me.
     
    And finally, there is the bonus of being able to give something I’ve made to a special friend or relative — the product of my hands, stitched with love and care and given with joy and generosity.

    Yes, old-fashioned knitting does all that for me. What do you do that gives you a deep sense of satisfaction?

  • TIME FOR TEA

    I love regular time. The end of daylight savings time feels like a holiday to me! Not only do I love the extra hour of free sleep that one night out of 365, but it signals the return of EVENINGS! Oh, how I love evenings! Evenings at home, quiet, relaxing, eating supper at a normal hour, getting out of the kitchen before bedtime, sitting down for a couple of hours with the Farmboy, talking, knitting, reading the newspaper, sipping a bedtime cup of tea. Evenings are such a lovely time of day.

              

    It’s been our ritual to have a cup of tea not long before sleep-time, and for the last few years our tea of choice has been decaf Constant Comment. I still love my CC but there’s a new kid on the block. Meet my new friend:

                

    This is GOOD stuff! Herbal, sweetly fragrant, wonderful!

    We have a rag-tag assortment of mugs that we use all the time. They remind us of places and people.

                 

    This is one of my old favs….BEST enjoyed with some cafe au lait, sitting outside on a balmy New Orleans morning, with a couple of beignets, but it also works for tea.

                 

    My farmboy likes a thick mug, and this one is thick, like old-time restaurant china. It’s a souvenir of a neat place not too far from us.

                


    My tea kettle is singing. She was a gift from my mother-in-law one Christmas, years ago. I still love her because she is so old-fashioned and functional–like so many good “shes.” She gets my water ready in a hurry!

    Now, my dishes are done, my apron is back on the peg by the door, and I’m ready to sit down with my cup of sweet-smelling tea, my knitting and my farmboy. Hope y’all can get some zzz’s tonight, too!

    P.S. If it’s a clear evening where you live, don’t go to sleep without peeking at that big, bright, beautiful moon!

  • A handout for my Sunday school class this week:
     

  • I do hereby declare today, November 2, 2011, to be “Flannel Sheet Day” in this household.
    ~~inspired by the weather forecast~~

                
    And more winter preparation:  first you knit it,
                
               
    ….then you shrink it (on purpose),
                

    and then a stylin’ eleven-year-old wears it!
                
    (note the “head” this hat is modeled upon–I didn’t have the 11-year-old so had to improvise.)

    Thanks to the generosity of a very special friend, I’m happily anticipating a day of fun with dear loved ones:
                
      
    Can’t wait until Saturday! In the meantime, Happy Wednesday to you all!       

AmericanJanet

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