still crazy

There's a growing anxiety in many people's lives and minds these days. I see and hear it from friends, on fb, in the news, all over the internet. Threats abound. Asteroids, aliens, tsunamis, sun flares, guns, Yellowstone, tornados, war, invasion, terrorism, economic collapse.... How to deal with this? Last night in my dream I poked an irrigation shovel into a small hole on my land (I had been writing about acequias and irrigation during the day) and suddenly all of the land as far as I could see, became a great lake. Calm, but vast and infinite. I didn't quite know what to do about it. Awake, I need to find that calm place somewhere within and focus on it. It can be elusive. Meditation helps, but I missed going on Saturday and haven't caught up. We each find small ways to calm down. Receiving a photo of Dante helps. And the note that he's totally in love with cows!

 

Knitting for him helps. Like a couple of pairs of toddler-sized socks that I'll bring with me next month when I go east. The yarn is from Regia: Flusi das Socken-monster! I'm waiting for a second color to arrive, and a book. I discovered that there is a children's book that tells the story (in English) of the sock monster the yarn is based on. I'll bring that to him too. 

In the spirit of simple and calm, I'm matching (sort of) yarn, and nail polish for my newly revealed toenails (all pedi-ed up) in sandals. This polish from Essie has an eerily-knitterly name: angora cardi! The yarn is a merino/bamboo combo from Cat Mountain Fiber Arts in Colorado. I obsessed over what to make with it. I'm over shawls and shawlettes and there's too much yardage (420) for mittz, so it's being transmuted into socks. Soft. Warm/cool for summer nights in the mountains.

and over east (why do people from other regions refer to it that way?)
My son in Connecticut has his own way of staying calm. He likes a good cigar and has a nice green backyard and stone patio in which to enjoy it on late spring evenings before rain. I hope to be with him on one of those evenings very soon. I kinda like the smell of cigar smoke outdoors. It reminds me of childhood summers in The Bronx when my uncles smoked cigars in the backyard after dinner.  My mother put the coffee on and the aunts brought out the pastries. Conversation flowed (sometimes debate), nights were soft and sultry. Old oaks and maples muffled city sounds. Cigar smoke can instantly transport me to those long-ago/long-gone days so that I can believe that there really is no such thing as linear time. It all exists together. We just have to find a way to enter.