January 11th, 2010

My New Hat

newhat

Boy, I am such a dreamer.

A few months ago my mother showed me the basics of knitting…casting on, the knit stitch, the purl stitch, casting off…and for weeks I worked on a scarf of simple knitted stitches—no fancy stuff—just something easy to help me get comfortable with the technique. And it was coming along pretty well, too, almost finished…until I noticed…the missing stitch. Yikes. A gaffe that left an unsightly, gaping hole…one that I knew I would not be able to live with. If knitted to fruition, each time I wore the wretched thing I would have to make a conscious effort to hide the flaw, lest tell everyone within earshot to “Turn away! A missed stitch has left a ghastly hole in my hand-knitted scarf!”

So, I pulled out tens and tens of rows, and ya know, unknitting is almost as fun as knitting! Okay, so maybe I wasn’t taking this crafty thing seriously enough. No problem. I’d buckle down and re-attempt that scarf of simple knitted stitches. Instead, though, I hit the internet looking for a pattern for something a little more interesting than a plain ole scarf…something with multicolors…something with a stockinette or cable stitch…something way too complicated for my skill level. So, for a few weeks I jabbered on about a snowboarder hat…an intricately designed piece of wooly wear that would be knitted by me to be pulled down over my ears, albeit only in my dreams. That is, until W returned from a visit to New York. He happened to come across this one on the streets of Manhattan—only $5, woolen with a fleecy lining, and, having already tested it, it is impervious to windy, below-freezing weather. I’m sure that W is just as happy as I am, as this will shut up my incessant prattle on hats that are yet to be knit.

So, as soon as I master that simple knitted scarf, I will try my hand at knitting my own hat.

Again, I am such a dreamer.

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June 1st, 2009

My Grandmother's Spider Plant

spiderplant

As I noticed my grandmother’s spider plant this morning, I remembered that she was born on this day in 1904. She was just a few months short of her 92nd birthday when she died in 1996, and this plant, rather, its parent, sat on top of the stereo in her living room for probably 10 years or more. After she died, a good deal of her belongings were carted off to Goodwill, while the rest were rescued by us packrats in the family. I was the only one interested in indoor plants, so I gladly took the spider plant that she cultivated for so long.

I successfully continued the tradition until the winter before last when, ashamedly, I left it on our enclosed backporch throughout the winter. I knew it couldn’t withstand the temperatures, yet I let it hang there, in the corner, on the coldest part of the porch. As is annoyingly typical of me, I kept putting off bringing it in as I had not yet decided on the “best” indoor spot for it. Plus, I first wanted to clean the webs off the fronds. And then rinse off the pot that was filthy with dust from the open window. And then make sure that the planets and the stars were aligned…

The perfect scenario never was.

Come spring, tiny green shoots were visible among the rotted leaves that hung limply over the edge of the pot and with a sigh of relief, I resumed care and nursed it back to health. The spider plant was given a second chance to live, while I was given a second chance to hold on to something very dear. And a second chance to mend my ways, although that has yet to happen.

The spider plant has proven to be just as strong-willed as my grandmother was all her life and stronger than I will ever be.

Happy birthday, N.

For anyone who’s wondering, yes, Lucy is still keeping an eye on the birdhouse.

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