But I am making another hat for myself. Because I am stepping westward, I need a hat that will do what it needs to do in wet, cool weather but definitely not cold, snowy weather, I needed something a little lighter than those thick medieval helmets I've been making for myself! I started another Brat Sister Hat, this time in cashmere fingering weight to match the Veyla gloves in my last post.
I've been working on my
Here it is in Lodestone, a most lovely pale green with a subtle swath of spring yellow like the edge of a newly unfurling leaf in Spring:
These two skeins are the ones for Miss Marple's Shawl, which I described below. The shawl, square but lightwieght, is part of an indulgent set I'm making for myself that includes, in addition to this 1930's shawl, a silk and merino undervest from the 1930's, and a pair of merino sleeping socks of my own design. All this is in aid of those times when I'm ill and have to stay on the couch feeling sickeningly sorry for myself. These comforts will be perfect for resting in this cold old house!
More Marine Silk, this time in My Blue Heaven, Winter Solstice, and Lenore:
I have no plans for these skeins, but wish I had ordered more of the Winter Solstice. It's winter-sky silver really appeals to me right now!
And finally, because Marine Silk comes in three different weights, here is Lenore in the Lace weight. It is beautifully silky and shiny:
This skein is actually not mine, but is part of a trade with my friend Nad in Germany. She is a fearless knitter and doesn't hesitate to use the micron-thin lace weight yarns! Here is a close-up of how the blood-red blends with the raven black on the end of the skein:
Don't you just love Blue Moon?
Stepping Westward
~ Denise Levertov
What is green in me
darkens, muscadine.
If woman is inconstant,
good, I am faithful to
ebb and flow, I fall
in season and now
is a time of ripening.
If her part
is to be true,
a north star,
good, I hold steady
in the black sky
and vanish by day,
yet burn there
in blue or above
quilts of cloud.
There is no savor
more sweet, more salt
than to be glad to be
what, woman,
and who, myself,
I am, a shadow
that grows longer as the sun
moves, drawn out
on a thread of wonder.
If I bear burdens
they begin to be remembered
as gifts, goods, a basket
of bread that hurts
my shoulders but closes me
in fragrance. I can
eat as I go.
2 comments:
What a wonderful poem. So sensuous. The metaphors in the last four lines affected me deeply.
Lovely colors and the yarn looks yummy soft...Lovely Poem
. hugs from South Texas
Birgit
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