Knitting equivalent of Mission Impossible & Silent Poetry

I have spent 7 days knitting - without any breaks other than for sleep (very much diminished), snacking (on things that don't take more than 5 minutes to prepare), occasionally pulling Oliver out of the freezer or out of the fireplace (actually, to be perfectly honest caring for a 1 year old involves more than that, and for benefit of those of you who haven't had the pleasure of being in charge of such a small, delightful AND demanding person, they are not terribly patient either), and making myself numerous and delicious cups of strong coffee.

Just before Christmas I submitted a couple of projects for knitting books and both were chosen, due to be published this autumn.

This is how I got to work on this crazy deadline. I bit the proverbial bullet and committed to making a pair of over the knee stockings and a pair of long evening gloves in 7 days. Both fully fashioned and fiddly. The surprising thing is that despite the pressured circumstances I really enjoyed both projects and am proud to announce that I am pleased with both (this is such a relief, especially that I am so difficult to please myself).

Ta-dah!



I promise to publish separate posts for each item over the weekend, as there are stories to be told about each project. And I have taken lots of pictures.

Also, huge thanks to Jill at Designer Yarns for furnishing me with gorgeous yarns for both projects. Very much appreciated.

I just realised it's Second Annual Brigid in Cyberspace Silent Poetry Reading.

I could not pass this opportunity to share one of my favourite poems with you.

LOST

Stand still, The trees ahead and bushes beside you

Are not lost, Wherever you are is called Here,

And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,

Must ask permission to know it and be known.

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,

I have made this place around you,

If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.

No two branches are the same to Wren.

If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,

You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows

Where you are. You must let it find you.

An answer to the question, “What do I do when I’m lost in the forest?" Given by a Native American elder and rendered into modern English by David Wagoner (Chair of Poetry, University of Washington, U.S.A.).