Saturday, March 31, 2007

The Stork Flew Over

We just received a charming card from friends in Stratford. They were part of our practice before they moved back home and we miss them. I had sewn a handbag for her and knit "childhood" for their amazing almost 2 year old daughter.
The card thanks me again for the knitting and lets us know they are only 8 weeks from delivering number 2. I'm sure I didn't know about this, but flattery will get you everywhere.

Yes, I take requests.

So I have to go to the wool shop today and find enough charm for another Haiku. I love this sweater. But I don't have any worsted in my stash except for the natural wool from aran sweaters that is earmarked for an afghan (another year). I have lots of baby weight, but it just won't suit. Perhaps I'll knit it in sport weight and get a smaller size for a smaller baby.
This puts a spark into my knitting.

The cardigan is coming along, I'm on the straight and not so narrow now, but I'm not so happy with the edge. I can live with it, but knitting with a fever doesn't lead to the extraordinary. And I've always had trouble knitting for myself.
How old do I have to be before I either accept this or overcome it?

I have a new Internet friend, Kieth, who knits mittens. Now I'm being haunted by red and white Latvian mittens. Two of my friends have stunning white parkas that are crying out for such a treat.
Mittens are romantic. I knit so many for my babies and tied them with string as they went off to school.

But so many people are too sophisticated for them and prefer mini gloves in the strain of tube socks. My daughter's skating coach will get a pair simply because she wears them at the rink.
I can't drive with mittens. I have trouble holding the dog's leash. But I remember Laura's mittens in Little House in the Big Woods ( the first book I ever bought myself) and I wish for the pleasure as if it were expensive jewellery. Who would understand?

Perhaps it's hearkening back to the days before I wore a watch or had the troubles of other responsibilities. I tend to make lists for myself with my knitting and reading and writing that are too close to the duty rosters of the army and nursing.

Why not knit for pleasure, for romance, for dreams and for babies?

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