Saturday, July 20, 2013

Cold Front

After a string of very hot, very humid days, a cold front went by. What a difference the decrease in temperature makes to my mental state! I feel better. Not great, but better.

These past few weeks of grieving have been accompanied by some fiber activity. Mostly, I knitted socks. (And I watched a lot of TV, and I drank a lot of alcohol.) The movements of my hands over such a familiar structure helped soothe me. And, besides, I ended up with a pile of new socks, all summer worthy.


I knitted two pairs out of the “CoBaSi” yarn that I’d purchased earlier this year. The turquoise socks are knitted in my pattern, “Summer Socks”. The lime green socks are knitted in a modified version of a free sock pattern, “Crimple” , by “knitpurlhunter”.

The denim blue socks are knitted from a long ago discontinued sock yarn, “Fortissima Cotton”, 75% cotton, 25% nylon, from my pattern, “Jog-in-the-Rib Socks”. (I have several pairs of socks out of this yarn. When I realized it was being discontinued, I scoured the internet and purchased several colors. It’s a nice yarn for summer socks. Too bad it’s not made anymore.)

The multi-colored socks are knitted from a yarn I picked up awhile back. Can’t remember where or when. It’s “Sockina Cotton” by Schoeller & Stahl. 55% cotton, 25% nylon, 20% acrylic. I designed these socks on the fly, using stitch pattern “III.3” from the old Harmony Guide to Practical Knitting Stitches (page 41).


I’m wearing these socks right this very minute. Grief is good for something.

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Grey

I’ve been encased in grey. On July 2, I put down my dog, Toby. Always a tough decision, I struggled for the weeks leading up to that day, and I’ve been in mourning since then.

It is the peak of the summer season here. Sunny, warm, swim-worthy days. Farmers’ markets everywhere, with delicious Michigan blueberries and cherries. Every lake and every beach is beckoning. Art, theater, and music events are everywhere. But I am grey.

Toby was far from perfect. She rarely came when I called. She would run off given the slightest opportunity. She insisted on having her spot on the sofa. All these behavior faults were entirely due to my inability to be the boss.

But Toby was a happy dog. And she loved me. And I loved her. I was in love with her. I was her slave, her doorman, her doormat.

Several dozen times a day I would lavish words of affection: I love you the most. You are my all time favorite girl dog ever. My lovest bugest. Tubbs. Squiggly wiggly giggly biggly diggly duggly. Sweet pea. Sweetums. Heart bug. Love bug.


I was a total fool for her. And now I am grey. I expected her demise to trouble me, but I imagined more drama. I know this fog will lift, but I hope not too soon. For now, I want to be grey.