edges soft and sharp

edgy
November shadows are sharp in the sunny cold. Almost everything seems that way now after the long mostly soft autumn we've enjoyed. Yesterday was cruel. Grey, blustery, cold, dark too early.  I was forced to shift into winter mode. Drive to writing class in the dark, take inventory of my stash of knitted scarves, shawls and handwarmers to see how they survived summer storage. Not a sign of moths! Very good news. I'd been worried after the recent fluttering in my sock drawer (all clear now).

I got reacquainted with favorites and nostalgic for the winter knitting of '08/'09 when I ordered Axelle de Sauveterre's hand-dyed cashmere for the first time. That winter was so depressingly cold  and snowy that the only way I found to dispel it and not tumble into darkness was to knit with cashmere in rich colors. How's that for self-therapy reasoning?

I still get lost in the beyond-dreamy colors and feel of this 100% cashmere. If I had my way (and a Swiss bank account) I would knit with nothing else. That winter I knitted three shawls. This clapotis is Orion and I kept it. The other two in shades of reds and olives landed in France and Connecticut where, I'm told,  they are well loved. I don't know what my future holds generally, but I'm pretty sure there's more of this yarn in it.

report from London
friend Maggie arrived in London and is wearing the warm hand knitted socks on long walks in the city. She can't wait to leave though, and head out to the country where she will spend the winter. Socks and sand, cameras and writing. Sigh! I imagine spending a winter in Cornwall with a bag or two of cashmere yarn, needles, and lots of unscheduled time. Now, that's something to strive for.

a winter cottage
with windows facing the sea
Earl Grey tea cooling