sorry Miko...need I say more...the book is going to get it....

xx

am

.....last post in March 2008....yes, in five months there has been knitting, dancing and rugs....again, with the punctuation.....again, with the half-thoughts....

I purchased a rug, while showing a co-worker how to bid on ebay. Ali was turning forty, and she appeared to like the rug, so when it was delivered I gave it to her as a birthday gift. The rug that we had spread out in the office and dug our toes in, lived with us for only a week. Here, it lives virtually and for as long as there are bits and bites and electricity. It has the most unusual deep cherry red, a colour I crave, yet never manage to hold onto for long. Like all shiraz rugs, it's filled with little emblems, flowers, medallions, signs from G*d, animals and aliens. One day I'll study one of my rugs, and read it for a couple of months, checking for cast-off symbols, reckless camels or deliberation of design.

Those Scandinavian socks sure got around. Christening Sarah in Hudson Quebec in January 1987, wearing only pantyhose with a skirt was folly...

My Mom's pair of scandinavian socks are modelled by moi, at the base of Sterling Mountain, Smuggler's Notch, Vermont, January 1967. I look at this picture and I feel cold. I remember that thin little jacket, when we regularly skiied at zero farenheit and lower temperatures. I think my wool fixation comes of having been so cold as a kid. Now I'm outfitted with hats, mufflers, scarves, gloves, mittens, thrum mittens, wristies, sweaters thin and heavy, down vests, down jackets, hand-knit socks up the whowho, silk long-johns, cotton long-john underthings, cotton and wool turtlenecks and even electric socks. Those long cold days of eastern skiing ice and rock, frost bite on my face and toes have left with one me with one notable driving force in life; knitting in the chalet at the base with a nice cup of hot chocolate in front of a fire.

...missed last night's belly-dance drill class...cling.shwish.ding.bling....too much snow, too much winter, too dark, wearing winter socks and hiding under a blanket....dulled noises from industrious neighbours shovelling outside...back under the blanket....complete sentences to come....

The Scandinavian ski socks as they were originally worn in 1970 (see January 18th for a 1989 modelling).

Knitting Stash circa 1988...working my way to two closets, five baskets, and an outside storage facility....

I did a wool inventory; 20+ WIPs, seventy lots of yarn sufficient for a large sweater each and 10,000g of sock yarn. after i gave away three boxes and a garbage bag full.... i don't know if I'll be able to finish this in a lifetime, but i'll try ;)

Forgive me blog for I have knit more socks. It's been many months since my last confession of sock completions.... I finished khaki green ribbed socks for Clive, same version different colour (burnt orange/brown) for Lisa, kiddie primary blue/red/green on a white twist for Lynn, hideous white/orange/fushia for me (because they're not going anywhere) . WIP include pink lace from Nancy Bush, briggs&little work socks, and plain socks with selfpatterning mauve,fushia,orange,tan and browns.....

Knitting on a cruise to Central America...ever practical, they were socks for my sister's return trip to the wooly north in anticipation of blowing snow off the steppes of the prairies...