Update 33 - mystery revealed

The test knit is now live.  This is a wonderful shawl called Midnight Sunset - so warm and cuddly.  Thank you to Ruth for such a wonderful design.

I should have worn a nicer shirt underneath, but I want to show you how the stripes would line up in the front.

I gave this to an elderly soul who needs to feel warm and cozy when she goes out in her wheel chair.  I will definitely knit another one for me in the near future.

I have finished the first sock for Ruth's other test knit and I am taking the second sock on the road with me.  I think it will go live sometime the end of February.

Also with me on my travels is my peace cowl, my cotton tee and some spinning.

My sister gave me this fantastic yarn - It is in the colourway Libra (which I am) and she bought one in Aquarius (which she is).  We are going to do a KAL together - Wingspan which we have both knit before and LOVE.  So that is coming too.

I finished my scappy bias shawl during the SuperBowl (yay Eagles) and I LOVE it!

 Here is my scrap basket before and after pictures so I think I did quite well.

And still no clue as to what I did with that cowl....I will have to leave this mystery unsolved for the time being. 

We are leaving today on our two month camping trip so next week I will be updating from the road.  

Candace and Penny (My sister and Me)

The Healthy Knitter wrote the first chapter and asked us to write the second chapter.  

This is for my sister.

Chapter 1.

Long, long ago in a far off land there lived two friends in a tiny rural village. They were the same age and had been the best of friends for as long as anyone could remember. Candace was adventurous, a bit of a free-spirit and longed to see the world... to find that perfect place. The villagers described Penny as the kindest person they'd ever known. Penny was kind, not just nice but genuinely kind and she felt at home wherever she was. The two girls were inseparable.

The two young lassies spent their days assuring that the fundamental needs of the village and villagers were met. They built houses, fetched water, and made meals using produce they grew each summer; their door was open to all who needed their help. Candace, a spinner, magically converted the fleeces from the local flocks into the most coveted yarn and Penny knit up hats, mittens, sweaters and socks to clothe the villagers especially to keep them warm during the long winters. Penny felt fulfilled with the work she was doing however Candace's heart stirred... she was called to see the world. She knew their must be more...

As time passed and the villagers continued to draw upon the help of the two girls something happened. Penny, a giver from the heart started to weaken. No medical provider in any of the near-by villages could determine what was wrong. She continued to work and work and work despite her fatigue but Candace was worried... how long would Penny be able to persevere.

Knowing that winter was approaching, Candace and Penny were sharing a cup of tea as they had daily for as long as they could recall. They took great pleasure in the ritual that had come to be with pouring the tea and placing their hands around the cup just so, pulling the cup close to their heart before taking a sip. After a long period of silence, Candace said in a soft and gentle tone, "I must go. I need to see the world, to meet people from other villages to view how they live. I must find a cure for what ails you my dearest friend as you cannot continue to give, and give, and give. I will return with tales from afar, a remedy for your sickness, and find the perfect place to live."

Penny's heart crumbled. How would she live without her friend... and for how long? Yet Penny knew that she must let Candace go. Penny knew that as much as it was her destiny to stay in the village to help others, she knew that Candace needed to immerse herself in the world beyond the forests of the village.

So Candace packed up a few of her things in a tiny knapsack and headed out the door. Penny sat down to knit and vowed to continue knitting until the day Candace returned.

Chapter 2.

Candace travelled the world - to the Arctic circle, to Vietnam, to southern Sudan, to Bangledesh to London, to Spain. She travelled to help the disenfranchised. She took with her a small felted Venus de Willendorf Penny had made for her years before. In every hotel room, inn and village she would send Penny a picture of the Venus and it was their secret signal that all was well and they were still connected. With every picture Penny felt her health returning.

Candace always knit hats for the babies and children in the villages she visited. Penny always knit socks for the poor and homeless in her own village. They often joked that if there couldn't be world peace at least the people of the world could have warm heads and warm feet thanks to their efforts.

Every stitch Penny knitted while Candace was away reminded her of their bond. Every stitch helped her heal.  She imagined every stitch was a knitted thread that connected them over the miles.

When Candace returned she brought the Venus with her and set her beside her bed where it still lives. She also brought Penny a small statue of Ganesh that sits by Penny's bed.
Ganesh is made of brass - Venus is made of wool. Like their love for each other - soft and unbreakable.

Darn socks

I spent Saturday darning socks. It all started because I couldn't find my 1.5mm double point needles anywhere, and finally I found them in my darning basket. Six pairs of socks, one darning egg, and my 1.5s holding stitches of my husband's sock ripped back to the gusset.

That isn't actually darning. Not technically when I have to re-knit the whole foot.

Anyways, I digress.

For small holes I darn with a needle and yarn of the same or close to the same matching colour and weave the hole together. Sometimes, if the hole is quite large I pick up stitches and knit the sock back together. Sometimes, I re-knit the whole darn thing.

See what I did there? Darn? Darn!

I like darning socks once I get down to it. I usually wait until I have a few to do. Like Saturday.

Darning socks makes me feel close to my grandmother and aunt. I am certain they darned many socks in their day.

Darning socks makes me feel useful, and thrifty. Besides my hand-knit socks all mean so much to me, I couldn't bear to throw them out.

Once a sock is darned it isn't the same as the new sock was. The yarn might not match perfectly. The fit may be a little different. It is often noticeable on the bottom of my foot where the repair is.

But over time the repair felts in with the sock, joins it inextricably. It is like a scar. When I see it I remember when the sock was perfect, and how it feels different now that it is repaired. Not better or worse. Just different.

When I thought about re-knitting the sole of my husband's sock I knew the difference in yarn texture and colour would be quite noticeable. But they are my husband's favourite socks so I keep them even though this time I thought I should just throw them out and make some more.

But then I was visiting my sister and I started to tink back on the sock to get to the place where I had 72 good strong stitches and started to move forward.

I finished them that night. Flawed, and old, but finished and my husband was so happy to have them back in rotation.

Fixing things in life is a similar process. Sometimes our fixes leave scars, but the scars can join in with our lives and represent something new, something different, something repaired.

Our mistakes felt into our lives and can no longer be removed, nor would we want them too. Not really. Because they make us who we are today. They remind us of lessons we have learned. Or perhaps, are still learning.

Those socks I re-knit on Saturday will always remind me of my sister. Who was there for me. Who is always there for me.

Our lives are felted together.

And the socks I am wearing right now? The one with the weave right under the ball of my foot? I feel it there and it reminds me that fixing things that are broken is worth it.

Darn socks. I just wanted to get them off my to-do list, and yet they taught me another life lesson.

Darn.