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Showing posts with label Knitting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Knitting. Show all posts

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Do You Knit?

Cable, honeycomb, and tree of life stitches in green heather
I just watched a Google+ video on knitters. I was a knitter; I knit a lot of sweaters for my daughter as she was growing up, and sent her to college with a few patterned pull-overs in contrasting colors. I knit a true Irish sweater in deep heather green, with cables of many patterns (pictured here.)  And sometimes I knit sweaters that I wore to school: one was a dark blue with white Fair Isle patterns worked into the sleeves. One year I knit four sweaters with the same fair aisle patterned neckline: a burgundy with navy pullover for Rick; a white with lilac and mint pullover for Trish; a gray with navy and deep green cardigan for me, and a cardigan with pockets (very important for little boys) of navy, burgundy and deep green for Rob. I knit sweaters for my son when he was young. I had a pattern book that my sister Kay had given to me, and which I returned to her. Full books of patterns could be bought in the sixties for a few dollars, and contained cardigans, pull-overs and more in every size imaginable.
Rob, age 5 in an autumn colored Charlie Brown pullover

Most often these sweaters were knit as I sat by the woodstove in the evenings during school vacation weeks - lesson plans and correcting could be put aside then, and for many years, Rick was at work, and Christmas music would be playing on our record player (yes, the old kind where the 33 RPM could play one after the other as they slid down the spindle.) For most of those years, joining a knitters' circle was not an option, as there was always a child sleeping nearby ... Trish in the early years, and Rob later. But it was a peaceful part of my life - one that brought me and others many pleasant memories.

I loved shopping for yarn - sometimes at a bargain store, and later at a sheep farmer's pickup truck in the school parking lot. Much later, I treated myself to some soft, navy-blue Danish yarn bought at a yarn shop in Maine - and made myself some bagpipers knee socks from that yarn. I'd begun making sweaters (and socks, hats, and mittens) for my grandchildren by then. I was working full time, and earning enough that I could buy books of designer patterns (hence, the Hermione cap I made for my granddaughter one Christmas ... along with wizard socks for my grandson.) When I had loosely-wrapped skeins from the sheep farmer, Rick would sit patiently with me, hands wrapped in the skein, as I wound the balls for easy use. Later, Trish or Rob would help me, or if they were tucked in, I would use the arms of the old rocking chair by the stove.

Scandinavian socks I knit but took too long...
I even took the leap and dared to knit Scandinavian Socks - a pair in black, gray and deep burgundy for Trish, and in olive, darker green and red for Rob Here's a photo of Rob's, which he never wore, as I didn't finish them until he'd outgrown them (but I wonder whether he might have worn them  snowboarding, if they'd still fit!)

A few years ago, I gave away all of my unused wool and yarn remnants, as the tremors that have developed with age and multiple sclerosis have made knitting impossible. I continued teaching young knitters after school for a while, but then even had to give that up.I have half a dozen pair of infant and child mittens left in the shop, where I had begun knitting them for sale. They are posted on my web store as well: http://beyondoldwindows.webs.com/apps/webstore/products/category/632253?page=1.

My newer venture is now making quilts. I'll write more about that tomorrow.


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Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Sharing my poetry, and the February Discount


  Poetry to Share, Vol. I

This collection of poems has been gathered from scraps of paper, notebook pages, and mellow memories of time spent with family and friends. "Rain Sketches" is a description of sitting with my mother at the window of her nursing home, watching the drizzling raindrops alter our reflections in the glass and bring to our eyes views of relatives past. "Namaste" is a counted syllable shape poem that honors the Indian saying, loosely translated by Mother Teresa as "I see God in every human being." Here is a partial sample from this collection:

If you sense a scent of balsam
With a hint of mince and clove
In this blanket I did knit a bit
Christmas Eve, by the tree
Window candles lit my lap
Needles clicking, while nearby
Robbie's Lego's snapped together
Under Grampy's watchful eye.

Knitting stockings on double-pointed needles. ...

If you sense a scent of Nana's house
Her creams, or Grampy's soap
In this blanket I did knit a bit
In their kitchen, full of hope
That one day these little stitches
All would warm your baby's nights
Each one made with thoughts and wishes
That your futures will be bright.

 

 Poetry to Share, Vol. II

 Some poems for teachers, some for writers, one for a favorite folk artist, and some just for fun.This collection also contains the lyrics of a love song, begun in my second year of college and completed a year before my retirement. There is also a touch of spiritual gratitude and an answer to a young student's prayer. It is a sweet bouquet of nature, both human and floral. Here is a partial sample:

My yard is a haven for all things wild              
      What others call weeds I have loved since a child
...
 The dandelions grow as they did way back then 
Always waiting as fluff to be puffed once again
...
English: Wildflowers

Whatever the wild green ground cover is called
It is rich and luxurious and need not be mowed
...
To think that some kill these young innocent plants
Unable to see the wind's grace in their dance
What others call weeds I rename as wildflowers
I sit and admire for hours and hours.

To read the rest of these poems, and many others in my collections, go to my author's page at this link


But if you are looking for the February Birthday Discount on Multiple Sclerosis an Enigma, visit Create Space and enter this discount code ND67VUCJ to receive 50% off.


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