Monday, December 2, 2013
Rainy days and Monday
You have to be of a certain age to get that title.
This weekend I rented a car and drove down to Connecticut to spend some time with my mother, who has been very sick. My mother is the type of woman who can't step out of the house without her hair and makeup just so (and it can take hours to reach perfection!), but she promised me this time she wouldn't fuss if we went out because all she would be doing is sitting in the car while I did her bidding with errands. It worked out well! By the time I left Sunday afternoon, she was feeling much better. :)
I was able to collect my birthday present as well, and I broke my yarn diet by visiting Mystic River Yarns downtown. In under ten minutes I'd chosen a skein of Other Kingdoms sock yarn in a rich ruby red and two skeins of Jamieson's of Shetland wool (cream and a soft blue) for my Shetland wool stash. I'm turning the sock wool into an Age of Brass and Steam kerchief, which I'll be giving as a Christmas gift.
While I was in Mystic, I had a chance on Saturday to visit Stonington Borough, a classic New England seaside village not far from my mother's home in Mystic. I stopped in my tracks when I stepped out of the car to get a breath of fresh air at the southernmost tip of the village, where you can see three states: obviously Connecticut underfoot, Rhode Island to the east, and New York's Fishers Island. The smell of salt air and the sound of the mournful foghorn transported me back to my childhood, where I spent summers with my maternal grandparents on the Connecticut shoreline. Memories came flooding back all day: climbing over slippery rocks with my brother, gathering mussels, periwinkles, and hermit crabs from the tide pools; afternoons scooping crabs into nets; the foghorns calling me to sleep at night. I think of myself as a Vermont girl, but I guess Atlantic has its pull on me, too.
Sunday night back home in the Boston 'burbs, O and I watched the mid-season finale of The Walking Dead. I don't think O has ever cried as hard over a tv show. I finally got him laughing by telling him the actors that got axed probably asked for too much money during contract negotiation time or that Martin Scorsese offered them roles they couldn't refuse.
I finished a cardigan last week but it has been so dark and dreary I haven't bothered with pictures. Soon, I promise. It's a practical bit of knitwear, nothing fancy, but I love it because the wool came from Drumlin Farm Animal Sanctuary over in Lincoln. When it gets damp, it smells like sheep. When I told my mother that, she wrinkled her nose. She's definitely not a Vermont girl!