I just sat down to write to you and suddenly realized the problem that we’re going to have together over the next few weeks. I’m knitting a blanket. Blanket knitting is not always super exciting. There’s progress here, but seriously, I could take a picture from yesterday and whack it up here and you’d never know. Not for a minute. (Actually, not true. There’s totally one of you, maybe four, who are absolutely the types to enlarge the picture, count the rows and call me on it. You know who you are.)
(And that actually is a picture from yesterday so don’t bother. My camera battery is dead and the spare isn’t where I left it.)
Watching me knit this blanket is going to be like they decided to have a grass growing competition, and televise it. You’d keep tuning in and all they would be showing is the grass, and there would be this guy Rick, and periodically, Rick would lean over, measure the grass carefully and then say "no change yet folks, but we’ll keep watching." Then, on the commercials, they would just promote the special documentary coming on after the grass growing competition, you know, the one called "Paint: How does it look while it’s drying?"
I’m sure that eventually, I’ll screw up or run out of yarn or something, but for now, you just might want to brace yourself. This is going to be as exciting as the conversation that Sam and I keep having about clothing, her places for keeping them, and the relationship that could exist between the two if only she would see that I am right.
I know that we celebrate the arrival of the new year in January, but that has never felt right to me. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again, the Tuesday after Labour Day feels like the beginning of a brand new year to me. Around here today marks the end of summer, the first day of school and a shift from the easy, laid back attitude of summer to the more efficient, straightforward call of the fall. Even the weather agrees today – it’s time to settle down and get back to business.
I love summer best. I look forward to the heat, the slower speeds, dinner in the backyard, sitting under the stars and the twinkle lights on the patio, nursing drinks into the wee hours with friends, family and music. I look forward to lakes, and the woods and canoes and the cottage and this summer I had a little of all of those things, but it still felt like summer never really "took." I blame grief for that, and trying to re-create a world that doesn’t have Tupp in it. (At first I typed "didn’t" and then remembered that this is permanent, and made the correction.) We’re faring ok, as a family, and I’m almost ok with chalking this summer up to a learning curve, and it makes the autumn even more welcome.
I feel like with this day, we’re turning over a leaf, probably one of the ones that fell off the backyard tree this morning. The tree knows what’s up. It’s time. Time to settle down, time to move into a different phase, cozy up the house for the long winter, and get out the yarn. Time to start a baby blanket.
I’ve got the swatch, I’ve done the math, and I’ve begun. I’m taking a cue from the time of year, and I’m settling into it.