The corn in the field behind our house was harvested. This must be the first field because the corn is really late this year. We had many a Thanksgiving (Canadian) with everyone out in the fields or on tractors, bringing in the corn silage, while Mom was hovering over an overcooking turkey, alone in the kitchen. My job was to drive the tractor up and down the pack to get the air out of it and decrease the risk of combustion. That is a dangerous job. We lost my cousin, Darci in 1982. She was new to the farm and the tractor rolled over on her. Last year one of our friends lost their Scott to the same accident. He was a great big athlete who sometimes played soccer against our Scott. He is missed every day.
But this descent into the darkness is not without hope. We light candles and carve pumpkins and say prayers to remind ourselves of the new life in spring.
I finished the baby blanket at noon on Saturday, blocked it and wrapped it for a 2 pm shower! That's the closest I've ever cut it. My hands are a bit angry for the marathon last nights. I was so grumpy yesterday, too for the lack of sleep. But the new mom loves the blanket and I think it is important to wrap babies in love.
I just started the Citron as a prayer shawl for my drumming partner whose dear husband has just entered hospice care. I won't stay up late with this project, but I hope to finish it before we lose him. D and I will go back to Bellingham next week to pick up his new telescope and see them.
Each stitch is a prayer.