Knit one, purl one. Rows not stitches. Rounds of simple knit until I reach the soft red wool marker. Then tease the yarn forward and begin to purl those same stitches. It's easy, therapeutic. This take-anywhere project.
Passers by comment when I'm knitting over a cup of tea by the river, or local ale outside an ancient haunted inn... "Will you make me one next? My wife likes knitting." "You're knitting correctly...you hold the tension with your finger...I do it that way. I used to knit for Jaegar. They paid me pennies but they sold it for pounds." Inquisitive children at the auction watch for a while before sneaking up to sit by me for a closer look. First the cheeky little boy and then his shy sister. "What are you making?" "That looks cosy..."
At last I've found a yarn shop in this sheep rich county. I'm surprised by this wealth of sheep but yarn store poverty. I reckon that everyone must spin their own. So I got my own little wooden spindle too. A small kit with a piece of natural brown fleece. And I oohed and ahhed at the honey coloured daffodil dyed yarn and the chartreuse nettle skeins and lamented on the lack of room to keep a sheep in our garden. And pondered could I rent a field?
I suppose that I'm jumping the gun a little. Maybe I should learn how to use the spindle first...
Meanwhile my reading is equally relaxing considering the subject matter. The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney is beautifully written. A screen writer, this is her seminal novel set in wild 1860's Canada. I love her words although the dialogue of some characters I found a little forced and false and despite there being a horrible murder to solve, I'm not rushing to see who's responsible. I'm enjoying this for the relationships that evolve. The insight into others thoughts and actions. The pictures she paints of life, wild country, of nature and survival.
project: Cobblestone pullover by Jared Flood
book: The Tenderness of Wolves by Stef Penney.