On A Cool and Wet Day
I woke up to a cold, wet, dark morning here in northern Connecticut. Cold, wet, dark and early... It was 5 A.M. and, trust me, that's not usually the time I start my day.
But we live in the country and, for some reason, there was lots of creature activity around our house and in our woods during the night. I'm attuned to wildlife and I hear almost every sound.
Last night, for instance, I awoke at 2 A.M to the hunting call of a fisher. Fishers sort of look like giant minks. They are very wild, fierce, magnificent animals which have only recently returned to our woods after many decades of being hunted mercilessly for their dense, silky fur.
At 3 something, I heard our pair of resident barred owls call to each other as they, too, hunted the small creatures of the night.
A little after 4, our local pack of coyotes decided to serenade us.
At five, somebody's dog started to bark. Not a wild creature but, what the heck, I gave up and climbed out of bed, grabbed my usual pre-shower, summer morning attire--shorts and a T-shirt--and tiptoed from the room while my husband slept on.
It wasn't until I had the coffee going that I realized I was FREEZING! So I went back upstairs, exchanged my shorts for jeans, my T-shirt for a sweatshirt and... here comes the best part, the knitting part, the dear friend part--I took from my sock drawer the most beautiful pair of socks anyone has ever had the joy of wearing.
Barbara made them for me for my birthday. They're gorgeous. She used the earth colors she knows I adore. They fit perfectly. And oh, they are warm! The best thing about them, though, is the love she put into every stitch.
Barbara? What's the name of this yarn? What's the pattern? Do you think someone as knit-phobic as I can ever hope to make a pair half as beautiful?
Almost forgot to mention... Last evening, just before dusk, my husband and I were driving home. Just as we reached our house in a wooded cul de sac, we noticed perhaps a dozen birds dipping and sailing right overhead. Neither of us had ever seen this kind of bird before but I'd seen photos and knew, right away, they were Nighthawks. Imagine! We watch birds in our yard, in our woods, all the time but we've never, ever seen a Nighthawk or heard any of our neighbors mention seeing one. And suddenly, there they were.
So, it's a cool and wet and dark day, but I don't care. The sun doesn't have to shine for a day to be perfect.
P.S. I even finished another chapter today and, big sigh of relief, I'm happy with it.
But we live in the country and, for some reason, there was lots of creature activity around our house and in our woods during the night. I'm attuned to wildlife and I hear almost every sound.
Last night, for instance, I awoke at 2 A.M to the hunting call of a fisher. Fishers sort of look like giant minks. They are very wild, fierce, magnificent animals which have only recently returned to our woods after many decades of being hunted mercilessly for their dense, silky fur.
At 3 something, I heard our pair of resident barred owls call to each other as they, too, hunted the small creatures of the night.
A little after 4, our local pack of coyotes decided to serenade us.
At five, somebody's dog started to bark. Not a wild creature but, what the heck, I gave up and climbed out of bed, grabbed my usual pre-shower, summer morning attire--shorts and a T-shirt--and tiptoed from the room while my husband slept on.
It wasn't until I had the coffee going that I realized I was FREEZING! So I went back upstairs, exchanged my shorts for jeans, my T-shirt for a sweatshirt and... here comes the best part, the knitting part, the dear friend part--I took from my sock drawer the most beautiful pair of socks anyone has ever had the joy of wearing.
Barbara made them for me for my birthday. They're gorgeous. She used the earth colors she knows I adore. They fit perfectly. And oh, they are warm! The best thing about them, though, is the love she put into every stitch.
Barbara? What's the name of this yarn? What's the pattern? Do you think someone as knit-phobic as I can ever hope to make a pair half as beautiful?
Almost forgot to mention... Last evening, just before dusk, my husband and I were driving home. Just as we reached our house in a wooded cul de sac, we noticed perhaps a dozen birds dipping and sailing right overhead. Neither of us had ever seen this kind of bird before but I'd seen photos and knew, right away, they were Nighthawks. Imagine! We watch birds in our yard, in our woods, all the time but we've never, ever seen a Nighthawk or heard any of our neighbors mention seeing one. And suddenly, there they were.
So, it's a cool and wet and dark day, but I don't care. The sun doesn't have to shine for a day to be perfect.
P.S. I even finished another chapter today and, big sigh of relief, I'm happy with it.
posted by Anonymous at 4:16 PM
4 Comments:
(You don't know how hard it is not to use the Secret Nicknames.)
We saw our groundhog today strolling across our deck. She stopped near the barbecue (I think she was considering tossing a few burgers on the grill) then ambled off to one of her secret hiding places.
We are a looooong way from NYC, my friend.
You wanted sock details so here you go: Regia 4 Fadig in Cacao, a beautiful blend of medium cocoa and that pure slightly earthy blue that works so surprisingly well with cocoas and pure browns.
66 stitches; 40" Addi Turbos #1US; worked 3K3P pattern that takes a step over every fourth row. Couldn't be simpler. I did a round toe (embarrassingly simple but very pleasing aesthetically), wove in the ends, and I was done.
The pattern is AFTER BERTHA found in Socks Socks Socks. But once you do a spiral you'll never need a pattern again.
Maybe we should work a pair of socks together, Secret Nickname. And you should definitely Magic Loop. (Bet you're gonna Google that immediately.)
Sandra, my daughter wants to move in with you. She loves the animal world and thinks your collection of local wildlife sounds fascinating. All we have here are squirrels, raccoons and opossums, not the most exotic of creatures. Occasionally we get a visit from an owl or a hawk (all those squirrels tempt them, I guess) but it's rare.
LOL on the squirrel issue, Sandra. My father fights an on-going battle with them (which he secretly enjoys) over raiding the bird feeders. He loves to invent new ways to foil the squirrels and the furry little varmints love to circumvent his roadblocks. I swear they keep each other entertained.
We went in a whole different direction. Against the better judgment of my husband of many decades, I bought the squirrels a ferris wheel and set it up in the yard. You've probably seen them: eight spokes into which you impale eight dried corn cobs then sit back and watch the squirrels eat and frolic and decide that you are such a truly wonderful home owner that they will only eat what the birds drop to the ground and nothing else.
At least that's the way it's supposed to go. Now they line up on our deck, rap on the door with their squirrel claws, and say, "Can Barbara come out and play?"
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