I'm staring out the window at snow. Oh it's not sticking and it's picturesque--the little flakes floating past while there are also still green leaves on the apple tree in the courtyard. And yes, it's late October and that's very normal for this part of the year in this location but still, snow. Haphazard writing today, interspersed with some pictures of recently finished objects.
Malabrigo Rios
I write blog posts in my head more than I manage to get them onto my screen -- planning to tell you about a big project that I can't just yet because, well, the ends aren't woven in and I want to make sure it gets delivered before I tell you all about it which means I have to get the ends woven in. Or it's the 10th and 11th Honey Cowls because those are easy and fairly mindless to knit but after a point you have all seen and memorized the pattern with me. Or the big lace shawl you haven't seen yet because I'm still waiting on someone else and the final plan.
Mostly I find it hard to write because by the end of the day I've spent another 10+ hours staring at my computer screen, writing responses to students and colleagues, trying to sort out endless to do lists that pile on throughout the day during back to back Zoom calls -- in between which I get to go and see what new fires the world has set before us. Literal fires as we look to Colorado. Figurative ones like restricting early voting. Seeming infernos like watching a frighteningly conservative judge be seated on the Supreme Court and worrying about how that will affect my life and the lives of so many around me for decades to come. Small brush fires of seeing "oh well, we aren't living in FEAR!" announcements people I know as they pack into in person events for Halloween! and Bridal Showers!-- and so instead I get to try to Not Anticipate one or all of them on a respirator or dropping dead of a heart attack a few weeks after a miserable bout in bed.
I worry about the election next week and I'm proud of those who have already voted; those who have stood in line for hours because we shockingly haven't gotten voting sorted yet. I am trying to hold onto a bit of optimism that we will move forward instead of backwards; that enough elections will go to Democrats so we can start to make significant changes. That Biden/Harris will win. That I won't be ever further marginalized as a woman.
Through it all, of course I am knitting. Thousands of yards continue to pass through my hands, one half inch or a quarter inch at a time. And there is new yarn at Chez Hedgehog; there always is.
Am I supposed to have some cheering ending here? Something metaphorical about how each stitch stacks on each other and then links people together -- tiny tiny progress becoming something beautiful? Or the joy of sharing finished objects, which has been my only real way of hugging anyone beyond the Philosopher for months. All true and yet they sound harshly twee in my ears. We will continue to fight, to try, to bend towards justice; but wouldn't it be absolutely delightful if we weren't met with people actively shoving the arc back the other way?
May you find joy in your craft; may you continue to stay healthy; may you be able to follow the science and protect the vulnerable. May we keep aiming for a more just city, state, nation and world that doesn't only prioritize the wealth and well being of a very very few.
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