We had a Christmas potluck last night at my friend Paulette's house. This apartment is Paulette's first home of her very own and she really enjoys having company. The ceilings are high and she has a light in the center of the living room ceiling, an old fashioned idea that really should make a comeback into modern architecture, so the light is bright and even and there are no dark corners. It was such wonderful food. Everybody brought a little something to compliment Paulette's chili and it turned out to be a really really nice evening. Everybody was sensible when it came to main courses but that went right out the window when it came to cookies. Every single one of us brought some kind of cookies! It was a real cookie fest and it was lovely. We were served a really great punch too in a very pretty punch bowl. I haven't had a nice punch in so long. It was wonderful and I think I am going to copy it for my Christmas too.
It made me think of how all the many ways that knitting gives me the path to move forward.
There is a large shawl from the prayer shawl ladies back home. It is just a simple triangle done in a block pattern of 3 stitches. 3 corners, 3 stitches, a reminder and a prayer built into the very structure of the work. I know the ladies who worked on this and I know the prayers that went into it and I am comforted by it.
A good triangle shawl is really just the perfect thing. I know that a lot of the shawls people make and wear right now are the longer, shallower, horseshoes and crescents, but a good triangle shawl sized right, hits all the right notes. It covers your back and folds over your arms just enough that it stays put but never gets in the way. A simple triangle is highly undersung.
Then there is a lovely stole from my friend and travel companion from my San Francisco trip.
It is made from Rimu, a New Zealand product from Zealana. It is a unique 40% possum 60 percent wool. If you get the chance to work with this, do. I mean it really. Do. It looks a little flat in the skein but oh what loveliness when you wear it a while. It blooms into the softest halo and just cozies right up to you to say, 'hey there, how goes it. you ok?' and you wrap it just a little tighter around you and it just sighs and sits itself so close around your shoulders. My friend made this thinking of me. She knit this lovely warmth in high summer and I think of her sometimes sitting working on it in the heat. It makes me smile and think of her and travels and good times and my heart is filled with peace.
And other things too. My travel friend gave me some lovely yarn to work with too, a local to her BC alpaca farm. I know it is in the study somewhere but I can't find it this morning or I would show it to you. I love it though. It is that soft natural warm golden tan that looks good on you even when you feel you cannot wear browns. I cannot wait to work with it.
And these treasures picked and and chosen with such care for me.
Then there is the harmony of blues and reds and a little of every colour in the universe that ever played out in our spectrum of light found in this bag of soft Polworth. A friend gave me this as something to hold on to in the very early days of Mr. Needles diagnosis and I can only say that I have.
And then there are the friends who I have never met like jessmadi who was willing to play a game in which I tried to 'sell' her my single Son2, using every power I had in my possession (ie, the stash) to get her to come to Canada and make a life with him and grandchildren for me. Son2 is gonna kill me if he ever finds this out, of course, but having that silly game to play made some very dark days bearable. And then how to thank the Savvy Girls and the Knitmore Girls who just were there to listen to and who will never really know how much it meant to have the podcasts to fill corners of the day to keep my mind moving.
And all the knitters that I knit with. There are dozens. Some are virtual on blogs and Ravelry and some are the ladies I see almost every week. Some are you. All they do is show up in their usual places, online, coffee shop or library and still they give an intangible gift. They give me the gift of a place to go to and conversation and laughter and warmth and smiles and take me out of the corner where I sometimes hide and keep me moving forward. It is no small thing, this gift.
Last night at dinner, surrounded by knitting friends in the warmth and comfort of Paulette's lovely home, I thought a lot about how lucky I am. I lost the framework of my life when Mr. Needles died but the warmth and care of so many good people with such diverse backgrounds, from all over the place, these people who touch my life in so many ways, are keeping me going, helping rebuild a new way of being.
I am thankful for each and every one of you. It is richness beyond compare. You are my blessings and the universe is unfolding as it should.