Saturday, September 27, 2014

After the Rain

What is it about a week of rain that makes a person so weary? After a summer of nearly zero days of rain, we got a proper soaking this week. It was a good thing, welcomed by the trees, the rivers, the animals, and by people like me, who worry when the land gets so parched... but cool, rainy days are better for napping on the couch than for busy work days. I reached Friday night fumbling for my pillow and eagerly welcoming sleep.

It's not all the rain's fault, really. We've had a few nights of poor sleep since Rascal started a new round of meds for his tumour. The treatment is working. The last ultrasound showed that the tumour has shrunk from 9cm to 6cm. We're hoping this round will shrink it enough to make his bowel movements even more comfortable, if not normal. It's just that the medication meant to kill the tumour also kills other cells, and even though we give it to him in five-day blasts, after five days he is uncomfortable, and by the sixth day, he can't sleep... he is restless and doesn't know what to do with himself. And when he can't sleep, we can't sleep either.


So, this weekend is welcomed by us all. And this weekend, I was glad to have a nice day out to enjoy the first day of the return of sunshine with a friend. We went out to visit a local attraction, the Teafarm, where we enjoyed a lovely pot of tea along with delicious lavender shortbread. And I brought home a few treats and trinkets, including a jar of elderberry jelly made from their own elderberries on the farm.


After that, we went over to The Loom at Whippletree Junction, where we wandered around the wonders within the shop. I'd promised her a knitting lesson, and I just HAPPENED to not bring any yarn or needles with me, so I HAD to buy a couple of balls of alpaca yarn and another set of size 6 bamboo needles. We sat out in the sunshine and basked in its warmth while I showed her how to cast on and knit a few rows.


After that, we realized we hungry, but before we wandered off for food, I popped into the vintage shop next door where I found this lovely little ceramic pot. I'm not quite sure what I'm going to use it for, but it's a nice size for pens... or maybe for my crochet hooks.


And there happened to be a set of handmade ceramic tile coasters to replace the cracked, stained ones that were falling apart at home. I've been wanting ceramic ones with cork on the back, and these are also just the right shades of green and grey that I've been looking for. I was happy to find them, because there's something so nice about buying something that is not cranked out of a factory once in a while. The lady in the shop smiled at me when I brought them to her till. "I can tell what your house must be like," she said. "You like the little details, and the little stories that come with them."


Oddly, the woman who owns the yarn shop said something very similar today when we visited her in her studio behind the shop. "There is the 'text' in textile," she said, as she told us about some of the skeins she has recently spun and dyed... ones she had donated to an art show, ones with which she had been experimenting. "I like them all to be different," she said. "Each one has a story."

So, as I sit here with this shawl in my lap, I suddenly don't feel so bad about how long my projects have been taking as of late. I forget so often that the purpose of this blog isn't just to show off my finished objects, but to share the stories behind them... how each time I turn to start a new row, I feel that tinge of worry that I'll run out before each long, tedious row is complete... how I flashback to moments in my childhood when I watched my mother crochet clothes for me... how irked I am that I didn't think to figure out how making extra repeats in the pattern would affect the arc of this crescent-shaped shawl... how I wonder if I should change from double crochet stitches to trebles, just so I can get through the yarn faster, and how I rebuke myself each time for rushing something that should be savoured... and of the times I've looked over from my shawl to find Rascal sitting at my feet, his head on my knee, needing a cuddle...

When it's done, I'll look back on it and love it regardless, because, like the rain, it makes me tired, but I welcome it, and it nourishes me in just the same way. And just like the sunshine after the rain, when it's finished, I'll enjoy its warmth, and remember the moments I had during its creation.

And now, for a quiet Saturday night.

1 comment:

  1. I'm so glad to hear the chemo is working. I've heard people say chemo makes you foggy and restless, so it makes sense Rascal would feel that way too. Comfort him the best you can, which I know you're already doing.

    Nice tea haul, which means you're comforting yourself the best you can too. Good Job You're worth it!

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