Consumed

Yarn from Appalachian Baby Design

I've been a bit random in my knitting lately. I'm spending most of my time on a couple of secret gifts at the moment, but when I want to take a break from the luxurious Queensland Collection Kathmandu (merino, silk, and cashmere!) I have this wonderful yarn discovery to occupy my hands. It's sport weight organic cotton, loosely plied, and it's making the best washcloths ever.

I came across it near the end of a road trip I took a few weeks ago. I had some time off from work so I went down to the Eastern shore of Maryland to visit my friends Kris and Roy. Kris and I knit our fingers to the bone while the three of us had a wonderful visit. On my first day there we drove to Philadelphia, where I got to go to the incredible wish-it-was-my-LYS, Loop. It was everything I'd dreamed it would be: well-curated, full of natural light, and staffed by people who know their yarn.

Then we went to the Italian Market, where we purchased and consumed lots of things like this:

Cheese!

And this:

Cappuccino!

Back at home, there was lots of this:

Espresso!

And this:

Brunch!

And some of this:

Libby!

Kris and I even managed to start a summer knit along project. We're making Color Affection scarves with my yarn crush, Brooklyn Tweed Loft. Purchased at Loop, of course. He's probably finished his by now, while mine is waiting while I finish those secret gifts.

On the day before I went home, Kris and I went to Chesapeake City, Maryland to visit Vulcan's Rest Fibers, where I found the beautiful yarn at the top of this post. It's a little town on the Chesapeake & Delaware Canal, and the yarn shop is lovely, with a good selection and great staff.

Today is one of those Sundays. It's hot, I have things to do at home (not just knitting!) and I'm happy to be here. So, here we are. 

"Why are you taking pictures of a washcloth?"

It's a process

Today is the fourth anniversary of my surgery, the day I began many long months of recovery and treatment and recovery from treatment. Coincidentally, it's also National Cancer Survivors Day. I've been a bit stubborn about adopting the "survivor" label, but I think it's time. I don't have cancer any more.

It's a process. Cancer is a process. Treatment is a process. Healing is a process. Surviving is a process. The process has been hard on me these past few months, harder than I thought it would be by now. I needed to remember that it's different for everyone, that we're all on our own timeline. I needed to stop and rest, stop plowing ahead.

It took a while for me to realize that for me, healing and surviving isn't simple. It's hard work. Careful management of my lymphedema, the leftover effects from chemotherapy, a seismic shift at my job, and losing my mother — my plate is full. I've been working on it. It's a good process.

So, today is the fourth anniversary of my surgery... I'm looking back, but I'm right here. I'm trying to be right here.

Peace Love & Yarn Bluebird BFL Sock Yarn (Thank you Liz!)

(Silent) Poetry Reading

To the Surgeon Kevin Lin
by W. S. Merwin

Besides these words that are made of
breath and memory with features
of both and are only mine as
                I address them to you

what do I owe to that steady
fire I watched burning behind your
glasses through the dire spelling-out
                when we met that first day

and to the passion of the boy
from Taiwan and the sharp knowledge
it burned a way to until it
                stood before the open

red cavern and between pulses
was sure how to do what came next
had it not been for that would I
                have been here this morning

at home after a night's rain as
the first sunlight touches the drops
at the tips of the leaves I owe
                you the sight of morning

from Present Company (Copper Canyon Press, 2007)

I chose this poem for Dr. Michael Pearl, the wonderful gynecologic oncologist who continues to travel the road with me, his patient patient.

Corresponding

I don't know how many times I've said to myself, "I wish I/I ought to/I want to write more letters." I just don't. I email, talk on the phone, text (I have several ongoing text conversations that are priceless), use Facebook, or play Words With Friends (you'd be surprised how connected you can feel when you're trading words with someone you don't see very often).

I have a lot of excuses for not writing letters, none of them very good: My handwriting has gotten sloppy, I'm not comfortable holding a pen for very long, I'm busy, I don't have anything important to say... Hogwash. I think I spend more time justifying not writing letters than it would take to actually write one.

Writing letters was always a pleasure. I used to correspond with friends and family. I love that word. Correspondence. When did I begin to neglect it? I'd like to get into the habit of writing a letter or a note, the same way I email or call or post on a wall.

So I decided to participate in the Month of Letters Challenge, which I think I read about on Facebook. It can't be that hard, and it promises be interesting! February is the perfect month for a daily shake-up, too. It's such a long month, even though it has fewer days. I feel like challenging myself out of the winter doldrums, and a little letter-writing might to do the trick.

I even unearthed my trusty Parker 45 "Flighter" for the occasion, figuring that I'll be more inclined to write if I have a nice pen. It was a gift from my parents some time in the late 1960's, and was most certainly purchased at the House Stationery Store, since both of my parents worked on Capitol Hill then. It's a simple, inexpensive pen, but I've always loved it. They aren't made any more, but I still found ink cartridges at my local office supply store. I don't know what happened to the little converter that lets me fill it from a bottle of ink; it will appear one of these days.

After the yarn stopped flying at the end of my Family Project, I took a short knitting break. I've been knitting, but slowly. I always cast on a new project at the New Year, and this time it was a Ptarmigan Cowl. I had the perfect skein of cashmere for Spirit Trail, too.

I'm working on a scarf for a friend, and another Brooklyn Tweed pattern, Winnowing by Bristol Ivy. It's going to take me a while, but every time I pick it up, I'm mesmerized by it. I'm two repeats further into it than this (not very attractive) picture:

It's a rainy Wednesday — a good time to dash off a note, wouldn't you say? Happy February! I'll be posting a poem tomorrow for the annual Silent Poetry Reading, a blog tradition that I've participated in since 2006 (wow).  Do you have a favorite poem to share?