A rainy day post

Plaid Tea Cozies
Vegetable Knitting Patterns
Take the stairs instead of the elevator.
Get up early to go to the Farmer's Market before the crowds.
Have another cup of tea.

You are loved.
It will be okay.

A long time ago...

I started writing in this small space. And, then I stopped.
My curiosities and interests are always waning and waxing, coming and going, ahead and behind. And varied. I've found comfort in measuring, mixing, tasting, baking since I was old enough to stay home without a babysitter, just a big sister. And since the time many years ago that I plowed through the beginning frustrations of knitting and the stitches finally fell into place and my fingers found the rhythm, I've rarely been without at least two projects on pairs of needles scattered about, and one or two more in my head. I'm currently learning what it means to keep houseplants not just alive, but thriving. I've now turned into a nursery of sorts for friend's sick plants. And they do very well here, though I'm sure it's less me than it is the immense windows, and therefore the immense amounts of sunshine.
But throughout these loves, and their many incarnations before, and the many more to come, I've had one constant. My love for words. Of words, in words, about words. It's been so much a part of me that I rarely take notice anymore when I arrange the monotony of my daily motions into grand prose in my mind. Making the mundane beautiful, or the beautiful mundane. Arranging, re-arranging, perfecting the placement and intent of each syllable. Reveling in a particularly striking combination, the words finding a rhythm not uncommon to the rhythm of my fingers as they weave a yarn in and out, up and down.
I rarely write, though. Journals remain half-full, at best. Letters die away before the cover comes off from my typewriter. This space, seeming so perfect to me at the start, remains dusty and unkempt. Neglected.
I do not fancy myself a writer. I do not believe that my story is any more worth telling than any other, probably less. It is the crafting of the verse that holds my heart and mind captive. As it is the pulling of the yarn through a loop that I enjoy most about knitting, not wearing the scarf; the kneading of bread that I love, rarely the tasty treat waiting at the end.
And what to do with this love of process and almost disdain for product? Write about it.
K

The "spirit" took a while to find me this year. But with some thoughtful donations in honor of friends and family, and with much time in the kitchen, I've begun to feel it settle in.
My time spent baking has made me increasingly happy, but is just about to come to an end, leaving me
a little time to myself this afternoon before the family celebrations begin tonight, and continue through the weekend.
Happy Holidays!
Karen

Second Storie's Indie Market 2009 has come to a close. I'm still spinning from the weekend. It was, by far, our most successful show yet. I'm so grateful to everyone who joined us this year. Our vendors were beyond spectacular, and we couldn't have hoped for better crowds coming to shop.
I'm taking a bit of time to myself this week, recovering. I'm trying to let myself relax a little bit. To enjoy watching a movie. Not knitting while half-watching, mostly listening to a movie. To talk with H.M. about something other than the list of things I have to do before I can go to bed. To spend time cooking again, not just making food to have something to eat.
To find balance again.
k

shorter days again.

much has been keeping me busy lately, with preparing for second storie's upcoming indie market from both sides...
as it gets a bit cooler here i will be enjoying the process of creating, warm tea in hand, hopefully being able to steal away for an autumn walk or two...

what dear sisters shall do...

(sis and i have been quietly working on something together. this tiny peek is all i will give, for now.)

thirty years and counting

peace amidst a whole wonderful mess of interruptions

every time i sit at this ancient, slow machine my patience wanes as i check my email etc., and i can't sit long enough even to write a quick post about the fabulous soup h.m. spent 24 hours+ making, or the wonderfully crafty adventure i'm embarking on with dear old sis, or all the engaging books i'm reading that have set my internal dialogue into overdrive, or how i can't wait to finish the sweater i'm knitting out of the most luscious kid mohair, or how finally watching the movie Into the Wild has left me terribly twisted up inside, even days later, but it's okay because Mamma Mia! will be on again soon.
so my oh my.
but on this day, with this peaceful morning spent getting some work done, i seem to be in synch with the chaos and interruptions.
good day.
k