Two For the Price of One

SIP64, Ankle 33

Here is my obligatory poppies and bees image for the season. Standing in the poppy thicket in the morning, you are overwhelmed by steady buzzing—bees of many colors rolling in pollen. 


The gardener caught a big fat gopher; hopefully we are good for awhile now.  I wish they could read. There’s a perfectly good empty lot on the other side of the fence that they could have for free. I’d be happy to make little tiny signs, but maybe I’ve just been at home too long.

Better day today, more energy and a nicer attitude. Still hard to get through the afternoon without thinking about a nap.

What I’ve been thinking about is knitting, what it means to do it as a solitary activity in an era when we don’t need any new shawls or hats or scarves or sweaters or really anything. I am nearly finished with a beautiful red and black shawl, and I have no idea if or where I will ever wear it. I can’t use it at home because the cats would destroy it in a heartbeat; at the very least it would be matted in fur by the end of the day, but more likely it would be kneaded and clawed and scratched into oblivion. Most of our clothes are like that; if we dress up to go out, those clothes come off as soon as we return home. I’ve been wearing home clothes for sixty-four days now. But I digress. Back to knitting—I’m not sure I’m going to keep it up if our group doesnt meet. I enjoy following patterns, making something pretty or useful, but it’s not like I sit here and knit all day by myself. It’s just something I’m thinking about—the point of knitting. We’ll see.