Saturday, April 24, 2010
A couple of years ago, a knitting neighbor friend gave me multiple skeins of Brown Serendipity Tweed yarn (color: Denim Aster) from a stash of yarn she told me she never intended to use. I considered using the yarn for many things, but finally, about a month ago my needles were called to construct a simple, weekend, jeans shawl--a quick throw-over-the-shoulders for a casual evening walk or errand-dash piece. I finished it and tassled it this week, just in time to enjoy its warmth as I battled a spring cold. It comforted me while combating my chills. I even wore it this morning for a brief hike through the campus to meet family, who bussed it up here for the Penn State Blue/White game. I think this triangular shawl, with it simple (knit 3, yarn over 1) pattern will continue to signal rest and relaxation for me...
Saturday, April 17, 2010
My husband, Jim, heads up our local CROP Walk. CROP stands for Communities Responding to Overcome Poverty, and our local CROP Walk netted close to $26,000 last year for hunger relief. We met this morning around our dining room table to celebrate the 2009 results and to begin planning for the fall 2010 walk. A portion of the money from our CROP Walk stays here in State College, benefiting the local Food Bank. And the rest goes toward helping the work of Church World Service as they combat hunger and offer disaster relief nationally and internationally.
I am really proud of Jim who spends hour-upon- hour and day-upon-day organizing materials, recruiting and supplying volunteers, and keeping our committee abreast and on track with the myriad details and duties required to stage an event of this size. As a Christian, I often ask myself if I am really serving as Jesus' hands and feet as often and as effectively as I should. There are those saints among us who really do; I sat beside a few of them today.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Friday, April 9, 2010
In her chosen corner she sits. Rivers of knitting
cascade plaining and purling over her lap
winter and summer together. She has her reasons,
knows that sudden contrary August weather
is worse than blizzards in winter, trusts no seasons.
Her young have escaped. She sees them
at large in the world’s cold winds. Her anxious care
follows them all by post, in cumbersome parcels,
cabled and striped and ribbed. She knows no ill
that can’t be cured in an Aran jacket, or better
endured in a mohair sweater. God
may temper the wind or not, but never
a lamb of hers will ever be caught shorn.
She sits defying hap and circumstance,
weak chests, ill luck, chaos and old night.
She would like to knit the whole world a pullover.
by Evangeline Paterson
Happy National Poetry Month!