Where have the days gone? It was Christmas day when I last wrote here. We arrived home and my time was taken up with the usual after-trip stuff (how can two people have so much dirty laundry and need so much food?). We left Arizona on an early morning and the phone navigator sent us through the scenic route. At first we were annoyed, wanting to get home as quickly and efficiently as possible (it
is a 600 mile distance!), but were glad we listened to Jane (the name friend Bob Silver gave to his GPS - and wrote a funny essay about "her" (see
Chokecherries 2010). The sun illuminated millions of saguaros up and down every mountain and hillside - the only part of the world in which these prehistoric desert survivors thrive. The lens on my small camera was just not wide enough to capture the magical feeling. Maybe no camera can accomplish that.
We stopped along the way to do a scale-check. These saguaros are gigantic. Ron, an average-sized man, looked like a mature Ken doll next to this great one.
The weather was warming into the 70's when we reluctantly left Scottsdale, but we're glad to be home again. It's been in the high 40's here, with lots of sun. Not so bad after all. Although today there is a cold wind whipping up that spells trouble coming.
kokopelli's magic flute
Drawn as if on a waft of enchanted music, I drove down to Santa Fe and straight into Looking Glass Yarns. Frankly (I'm going to admit this) I'm sick of knitting socks (which I have done exclusively since the end of November because my brain was incapable of doing anything else). Decided to make a buttonless cardi for spring. I sorted through patterns and armed with notes and ideas, entered the shop. The first thing I noticed was a sample of one of the cardis on my list: the Kokopelli Jacket from
Simple Knits. It was even in a color that I liked. I tried it on, bought the yarn and took a deep breath. Browsing hadn't even begun (it's a great shop - I was still in the front room). Kay suggested I stay
focused. Good advice that I've never heard from any other shop owner's lips. Ever. I left with a bag of two huge skeins (@478 yds) of Highland Peruvian yarn. When I rolled them - I've never gotten around to buying an umbrella swift and winder - they were the size of unwieldy soccer balls and had to be divided in half.
ta daa!
Immediately swatched for gauge and although the gauge is drifting up and down ever so microscopically as I knit, I'm pretty sure it will be fine once it's blocked.
The color is lovely and familiar.
As I roam the rooms of my memory I faintly recall a sweater I knitted more than forty years ago with Bernat Scandia yarn and wore for four seasons before it disappeared. Where did it go? Why did it go? No memory cells contain that elusive bit of information. (The quote is from Stephen Beal's book
The Very Stuff. Poems on color, thread, and the habits of women).
movin' on
I'll meet a friend for lunch soon and then drive her to the nursing home where her husband lives - a physicist with Alzheimers. She'll spend a few New Year's Eve hours with him before returning home alone. Ron and I are planning to cook up a great dinner, drink Prosecco, and watch movies. (Did you know that
Midnight in Paris just came out in DVD? yea!).
Feliz ano Nuevo to all!
