A Here and There
Since I've been down for the long haul, well a week really, I have not done much but sleep like a comma patient, sleep some more, and oh sway from a now fading vertigo in the waking hours. So, I haven't completed my silk lined, herringbone wool, leather elbow patch, silver metal button blazer. Oh, I will. Trust me. Perhaps this weekend I'll be up for tinkering at the sewing machine and iron, pressing the last of the interfacing, sewing the taping, refining and catch stitching seam allowances . . . in some ways that sounds romantic.
It is. In my mind, at least.
That being said, an ear infection in my dirty thirties came with a side of vertigo. Yea, the prolonged recovery is mostly due to the Lupus that makes me mend so very long, but in all reality the infection and vertigo are not Lupus per se. That aside, I've been on the sofa a bit, watching television (a bad variety, I won't lie), and knitting.
Knitting. A lowering of blood pressure, a heart rate reducer, a mind active and relaxing sport is an oxymoron for a gal with chronically low blood pressure. Yet, constructing my fall sweater I initially started a cowl in coral. Then, well, I didn't have enough yarn (that's a story for when I post the completed project, I promise). I frogged it, and saw a duplicated Chanel scarf. Well, my yarn from PEI found its home. The cowl, in a gray two tone, what I call, charcoal it nearly half done.
If I were fifteen years younger and fifty pounds lighter, I'd wear it as is . . .short sleeves and cropped. Okay, in my dreams I might.
The scarf though . . .
Can't say I'm wholly a Sex in the City gal, but . . . that scarf matches my coral like it was a DNA spawn.
The clink of my needles, and the cables without a cable needle have certainly been fun . . . which that is the real reason it takes longer, as all those tiny cables on a six (US) needle. This one is for me. I give more than half of my knits away, but these days I'm making more for me. Painstakingly ripped out, redone, and perfect or near so. Mine, from yarn that lurched off the shelf and said "I want to be a scarf, a cardigan, a cowl . . . " Yes, much like the gray and purple wool waiting for me to recover and make a circle skirt this weekend after the blazer gets stitched, pressed, and hung.
Yet, the knitting itself provides a venue of sorts. Much like this NPR discussion asserts, knitting does more than produce a surface of fabric. it channels, and it releases. Perhaps that is why since I've embraced knitting, and going beyond the knit one purl one mantra, writing is a mainframe sport so to speak.
In my other waking hours, I've been tapping along at the keyboard. Tap, tap.
And, that my dears, is the here and there this week. In waves of a alertness, knit two, cable pattern three, knit one, cable pattern two, knit one have tinkered away.
It is. In my mind, at least.
That being said, an ear infection in my dirty thirties came with a side of vertigo. Yea, the prolonged recovery is mostly due to the Lupus that makes me mend so very long, but in all reality the infection and vertigo are not Lupus per se. That aside, I've been on the sofa a bit, watching television (a bad variety, I won't lie), and knitting.
Knitting. A lowering of blood pressure, a heart rate reducer, a mind active and relaxing sport is an oxymoron for a gal with chronically low blood pressure. Yet, constructing my fall sweater I initially started a cowl in coral. Then, well, I didn't have enough yarn (that's a story for when I post the completed project, I promise). I frogged it, and saw a duplicated Chanel scarf. Well, my yarn from PEI found its home. The cowl, in a gray two tone, what I call, charcoal it nearly half done.
If I were fifteen years younger and fifty pounds lighter, I'd wear it as is . . .short sleeves and cropped. Okay, in my dreams I might.
The scarf though . . .
The clink of my needles, and the cables without a cable needle have certainly been fun . . . which that is the real reason it takes longer, as all those tiny cables on a six (US) needle. This one is for me. I give more than half of my knits away, but these days I'm making more for me. Painstakingly ripped out, redone, and perfect or near so. Mine, from yarn that lurched off the shelf and said "I want to be a scarf, a cardigan, a cowl . . . " Yes, much like the gray and purple wool waiting for me to recover and make a circle skirt this weekend after the blazer gets stitched, pressed, and hung.
Yet, the knitting itself provides a venue of sorts. Much like this NPR discussion asserts, knitting does more than produce a surface of fabric. it channels, and it releases. Perhaps that is why since I've embraced knitting, and going beyond the knit one purl one mantra, writing is a mainframe sport so to speak.
In my other waking hours, I've been tapping along at the keyboard. Tap, tap.
And, that my dears, is the here and there this week. In waves of a alertness, knit two, cable pattern three, knit one, cable pattern two, knit one have tinkered away.
Comments