shimmering blues

At the end of my driveway this morning, I was confronted by nine horses lined up along the fence staring at me. Spike was in the car and barked. By the time I got the camera out they had scattered. A sight to see in the early morning sun. They weren't in that three acre field yesterday so it must be another of those magical horse happenings. And they probably won't be there for long as three acres is simply not big enough to sustain nine relentless eating machines.They're already reaching out beyond the fence. Another case of the grass being greener?

I love the proximity of horses and since the rain all last week, the grasses are thick and luscious. Hollyhocks are blooming again and cosmos are prolific, the flowers on my deck are looking more like summer then autumn. Such is the transformation that happens with an abundance of water. The clouds and rains are over for now and the sky is simply minimalistically...blue.

Nothing in the cry
of cicadas suggests they
are about to die
     Basho (trans. Sam Hamill)

mood change

summer's gone now for sure
Fast and thoroughly. The landscape (and temperature) has changed the way a movie scene changes. No segue here. Just an abrupt cut. Next scene: miles of yellow chamisa.

The rains that were supposed to come during the summer are hitting us now. For more than a week it has rained every day and during the night. We awaken to thick clouds and soaked landscape. Everything's turning green again. I'm confused. During the clear times, the cloudwork and mountain shadows are overly dramatic - further reinforcing my belief that nothing is ordinary around here. Whatever weather is happening at the moment, seems to have happened forever and will stay forever - until the next unexpected something moves in and I'm taking pictures as if I've never seen it before - and I haven't really, have I?

Yesterday we zoom-zoomed down through the canyon to Santa Fe. I wasn't driving so I took pictures that didn't capture what I saw - how can an image with its size limitations capture a sky and landscape that has no limits? Still, I tried. With odd results.

Driving home in the pouring rain, I fell in love with the yarn I'd traded with friend Josie last weekend. It's Rowan dk soft - sigh! - 85% wool/15% polyamide. Only Rowan can combine these ingredients into a sophisticated, fuzzy, gorgeous yarn. I haven't knit in the car much lately. When Ron's driving we're usually in the Miata, which is not conducive to peaceful knitting. But at the last moment, before we left the house, I grabbed the ball of yarn and a circular needle. All the way to SF and back and while I waited for him as he ran his brief errands, I worked on a long hand warmer.

The color is a deep dove gray and fits the cloud and seasonal mood perfectly. I'd walked in the park in the early morning and it was cold. My short handwarmers left a gap between them and the start of my sleeve. Secretly I really wanted to try out the yarn, but it turned out that I also wanted to make something practical. By this morning I almost finished the first one. I'll go back and do the thumbs when the pair is finished.

I'll be leaving soon for our walk (Spike and me). We're walking later today since it's so wet and chilly out there. But I see the grey fleece cloud cover beginning to separate and I'd better bring the camera.

beyond the aspens
cashmere sweater gray clouds
wool warms my hands

the wonder of it all

bulging bags and wide smiles
On days filled with recollections of that other September 11th, a modest inflow and outflow of people, mostly women, spent yesterday and today browsing, talking, knitting, reminiscing, buying, laughing, selling, trading (lots of that!), during our four-person yarn stash sale. Saturday's rain and cold (and snow on the mountains) brought in a steady stream of fiber seekers dreaming about sweaters, hats, mittens. Today's gorgeous autumn-y day filled with sunshine and blue sky propelled people outside and into our doorway.

So much yarn - and books, bags, needles.... How did it happen?
Some of us fell in love.

Or went away with bags of yarn they could hardly carry.

Or came back for more and got giddy.

the location
We were in Gus Foster's amazing photography studio/gallery. Sixteen-foot panoramic photographs surrounded us with scenes of nature, whimsy, beauty that seemed real enough to step into. We thank him for letting us use the space again. Occasionally he popped his head in and quickly left with an incredulous look on his face as he observed the enthusiasm (dare I say frenzy?) of yarnistas in action!

By mid-afternoon today we cleared our stuff out, put the studio to rights and went home with our own new treasures, a bit lighter in the yarn stash department, a little heavier in the wallet, and the feeling that the items we'd grown bored with or had abandoned, would soon be transformed into new garments. There were fresh images, renewed inspiration, information, gratitude, memories. Thanks to all who share our love of fiber and craft and came out this weekend. Enjoy your treasures as we will enjoy ours.

changes

Morning skies are quite dramatic as night rains clear out. I don't know if we can still call this the monsoon season in September, but it has rained every night for about a week (more or less). Rumbling thunder, atomic lightening, steady wet sounds. It's lovely and cool again and, this late in the season, the dry fields are greening up. Acres of ox-eye daisies and wild sunflowers line roadways and fields. It's the yellow month. As wildflowers glow with color and we look forward to aspens and cottonwoods turning to a patchwork quilt on the mountaintops, we know yellow will give way to purple asters and thistles and swiftly disappear another summer - one that was difficult. Hot, smokey, dry. We notice the changed look of the mountains as they seem to grow darker, surrounded by clouds of moisture like smoke rings. And we know from past experience that the peaks will have snow within four weeks.

what fools we mortals be
I feel so conflicted. I love the cooler air, hate the winter (I'm not a skier although I live 8 miles from a famous ski valley) and feel that I'm not ready to hunker down when pleasant cool air turns to chilling freezing air (no matter how much nice yarn and tea is in the house). I'm still waiting for glorious spring and summer! Such are the tricks nature plays on us at 7500 feet and such is the folly of human thought. I love where I live, but it takes its toll physically (and mentally? check back in March). I have friends who hike all year, cycle, run, ski. They don't feel the same dread of winter. But I know my physical limitations and I'm not about to do more than brisk walking in the park. Which I will try to continue into the cold months. And I have those cute wool hats that I made last spring, and handwarmers, cashmere scarves, socks. Speaking of:

After work at my desk yesterday and meeting up with crafty poet friend Leslie to plan our participation in the Yuletide (!) fair at end of November, I started this sock. The Opal yarn I'd had since early in the year has been calling to me for the last few weeks. The intense, unique colors and unknown pattern it might create were enticing. But I wanted to finish a few other things first and it was too hot for vivid color. I finally couldn't resist and was actually looking for another simple-minded sock to pick up in between the busyness that is increasing daily. Plain socks save my sanity. But how plain is this! Not. It's ordinary only in the sense of the actual knitting- no charts or intricate stitches required. I love Opal's unexpected color combos and this one is super cheerful (#2712). I managed to finish quite a bit of it last night almost-watching the Diamondbacks baseball game with Ron (quiet - but loyal - fan).

the score
The DB's are in first place in the southwestern division after several years deep in the doldrums so there's a bit of a tingle in the air when they play. And there was lots of talk about the upcoming ten year anniversary of their series win during that fateful year of 2001. One of the broadcasters was Joe Garagiola who is still going strong well into his 80s. I'm not a big fan, but in their conversations between plays Joe often says something that makes me laugh. He clearly does not like being old and when someone mentioned that the manager of the team often uses the phrase "dig me" as an incentive to show the guys on video what they've done right, Joe said that at his age he doesn't like those words at all. I can relate.

sunrise, sunset

quickly fly the years...
As I grow older it seems that time is moving faster. Old story. I hear it from lots of people past a certain age. But it's suddenly gone out of control! My younger granddaughter sent me a picture of great grandson Dante today. I last saw him in person a little over two months ago in mid-June - a seven month old baby. How did this happen!

Megan tells me he's not quite walking yet, but stand him up, let go, and voila! I do remember that his mother, Kira, was walking and talking at nine months and that it was strange to see such a tiny creature strolling around totally oblivious of danger. We were always following her around and catching her before she stepped off the edge of stairways and split-level rooms in our contemporary (read: unique and adult) home in CT. Now I'm anxious to see Dante again and have a feeling that I'll be making another winter trip east (it was so cold last December when he was only two weeks old). Guess I'll be ripping out the size 18 mths sweater and starting a size 2 or 4! Or move on to Plan B, pass GO. Switch to hats and mittens. Maybe a guy blanket - he'll probably be in college soon and will need it in his dorm. Who can keep up with knitting sweaters for such a sweet and fast-moving dynamo of a boy!

knitting meditations

from this

to this

As hoped, I finished the shawlette in Lorna's Laces Shepherd Sock Yarn in limited edition color, "Bravery". These days when I finish a project it goes into a bath. I used to just steam block stuff, but that was the lazy way. It's more satisfying to lay out a piece and pin it down, knowing that in 24 hours it will be ready to wear. And this morning it's almost cool enough for a lightweight merino scarf.

Days are definitely moving toward autumn. Cool rainfalls, chilly mornings. Heat build-up during the day, released by late night. Frankly, it's a relief from the relentless heat since July. So what do I do? Slowly finish projects, get ready for the stash sale next weekend, think about the things in my life that need to be changed and the ones that sustain as they are. Knitting, writing, photography, run through it all as a connector. I no longer seek knitting challenges (to prove my prowess?) nor do I need to be part of a group. I cherish time spent with a handful of friends who knit with me, teach me, write with me, support each other, provide empathy, advice, and rubber duckies when needed. Quite different from younger years filled with social activities and couples and kids. It's my version of Passages. 

recommended
Always books. Whether e or paper, they are ever present. And I love to stumble upon treats. Two novellas from Geoff Dyer: Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi. Reading it was as addictive as dark chocolate. Found quite by chance at the library the other day, it looked interesting enough to take home. A complete understatement: "profoundly haunting and fearless....wit and uniqueness surround you..." (NY Times). "musical and wildly intelligent" (Time Out New york) - all true. I'm going to start reading Dyer's other books now.

rejuvenation (or, it's never too late)
In my yarn sorting, when close attention was necessary, I came across a couple of balls of Shepherd Sock yarn in "aslan" that I've had for maybe six years. Socks and other projects were started and ripped. The color is subtle and nothing seemed to work to my satisfaction. I still like it so am giving it one more try with a sock pattern I've used successfully with other yarns (Anne Hanson's "Roger"). It requires the attention of a few brain cells while the others can watch movies. So far it's a success. It took an awfully long time to find out what that yarn wanted to be. Guess it had to mature like good wine.

Great grey clouds move as slow as glaciers toward the magnetism of the mountains, revealing patches of solid blue in their wake. It feels like rain later. Or maybe, in the tricky way weather has around here, it will be a sunny hot late summer day. Either way, we're heading to Santa Fe to pick up a couple of things and have lunch somewhere. It's an excuse to put the top down and zoom-zoom through the cool mountain roads.

the blowout!

A lovely soaking rain and thunderous thunder last night accompanied the excitement that the stash sale is a go and I'm actually ready! This won't be of much interest to those of you reading this in New York, San Francisco or the U.K. so you may turn away now and I won't feel hurt.

a good yarn
Sale will be next weekend at the studio in town where we had the last one - Ranchitos Road next to Now and Again (look for signs and balloons). If you live in northern New Mexico, please come by for amazing deals on high quality yarns, books, handbags (knitting and fashion), kits, needles, friends, more! Expect good yarns suitable for varieties of projects. And oh, those bags!

Saturday, September 10, 9-5

Sunday, September 11, 11-2

recap
I can hardly believe that I actually got through this week without forgetting something important like paying the bills or taking a shower. It was long and busy, starting with last weekend's east coast storm watch and a lot of needless worrying about the family. Twice to Los Alamos for appointments (that town is so 1950s and Lab oriented), met a writing deadline, had a couple of lunch dates, and the sudden scarey demise of the fan belt in my reliable and well-loved Toyota (ok, it was the original belt and it did have 90,000 miles on it!). I did a bit more decluttering, started another writing project, labeled the yarn and handbag stashes, and almost finished the latest shawlette knitting project. Hopefully I can knock it off tonight (when I'm forced to endure yet one more Diamondbacks baseball game - my god, the season is long!).

Thanks for hanging in with me dear readers. The all-time count is nearing 7,000!