The unofficial “looking at this city with fresh eyes” project is still going on, with no real end date in sight. It’s been fun, not to mention has contributed to the lessening of a general sense of restlessness over the past couple of years. We often think there is someplace better than where one is at – at least I do, quite regularly. It sometimes takes a shift of focus, or life itself giving a nudge to remind that it really isn’t better anywhere than right here.
This guy has such natural dignity. He (or she for that matter, how do you tell on a sleepy heron?) was sitting quietly on a fish boat when I walked by and I couldn’t resist. This is from the New Westminster Quay again, from a sunny respite from rain a couple of days ago.
As I wrote before, the Fraser is a working river and seeing tugs is a common sight.
On the knitting front the Pi Shawl is still chugging along. It doesn’t look like much now, as all lace does, kind of a lumpy mass so I won’t bother posting a picture. The colder weather made me haul out some sweaters though, and I found this, my first sweater made from scratch, from my earliest handspun.
Technically, this is no masterwork, to say the least. The fibre is a mystery to me, I wasn’t choosing with discrimination back in the day. Soft, shortish fibres of some sheep or other. The thick two ply yarn is pilling like mad, and it is clear that I ran out of the brown and had to fill in with a blend I had on hand. Too many buttons! Saggy button holes and button band, that lumpy stretched out ribbing…It is easy to fall into criticizing but to tell the truth I can’t stay in that attitude. Sure, I wear this only in the house, but until it falls apart, it will get good love. The fair isle was spun with yarns from a dye class, and the yellow, dyed with lichen smells incredibly good, especially as it warms to body heat. This was my very first steek and this project made it clear that steeking is not only easy, it is actually fun. Cutting one’s knitting is not the huge deal it can be made out to be. And while the fit is, well, awkward, for my body type, this sweater is warm and soft, and actually works well as long as baggy pyjama or sweat pants are worn with it, finished with woollen socks. Does it get better than that on a winter day?
Sunshine was by last night. At one point during dinner the conversation moved to the meaning of Remembrance Day, and why we observe silence to offer compassion to all those who have been killed and effected by war, everywhere. Wouldn’t it be something if Sunshine’s generation saw us get our act together, as a species?