Passing the Ball

Mind all a flutter I sprawled on the couch with a cat and a dog and my knitting. I am rapidly approaching realization of a year long project (abandoned over the summer).

I no longer knit exactly per pattern but start with one (this a sort of sweater/poncho) and modify. I am adding all these wonderful designer yarns as accents to the basic mohair. The basic skills are ones taught to me by my mother. The enhancements are. The marriage of the two is highly satisfying and very meditative.

Before I completed four rows of 184 stitches each I had this poem to write down. And a memory to add to those recalled and treasured a new. It is interesting as we age what we have stored away to be recalled in the quiet of an evening alone.

Passing the Ball

Balls of knitting wool
Needles, hooks
Twined into textures
Intricate
Mysterious
Warm

Mother taught me to knit
Crochet, sew, embroider
Sat beside me
Upon the couch
Retrieved my dropped stitches
Corrected
My patterns
With Warmth

Arts shared
Skills taught
Treasures created
Handed down
From Mother to daughter
Intricate patterns
Of Life

I sit now
On the couch
Alone
Knitting memories
To keep me warm
A sweater
To show
I learned

See what
My mother taught me
To do
I knit, Crochet
Cross stitch, crewel
And Sew

Intricate
Patterns
Of lives
Entwined
Knitted together
keeping me warm

October 2007