Saints have no moderation, nor do poets, just exuberance. ― Anne SextonEven after all these years of making my own garments, I find it strange that I can knit a sweater to fit me, especially considering that I have no sense of proportion in most other aspects of my life. For example: if I want ice cream, my instinct tells me that I must fill the entire soup bowl to the brim with ice cream in order to be satisfied. I look over at my hubby, and he has spooned out the exact recommended serving size into his bowl, as prescribed on the box, without measuring, purely by instinct (it's half a cup, if you don't know). He eats it, and he is satisfied. I eat mine, thinking the whole time about how much I would like another bowl right after.
Yes. Proportion: not simple.
Another example: freebie fruit. I got wind of a fellow in town who had far too many apples and pears from his trees and was offering them for free. I asked around to see if anyone wanted any, and I determined that I would get just enough for myself and two other people.
Well... I guess I don't know what "enough for myself" looks like:
We've been bravely working through them, but the fruit flies were setting up a condo in the fruit bowl, so I put a lot of them into the fridge, turned a bunch of the apples into applesauce, and then decided that some of those pears should become a cake. I used one of Joy the Baker's recipes, which turned into a gloriously puffed up cake with some crumble on top. In case you're wondering: I used a mixture of plain non-fat Greek yogurt and skim milk in place of buttermilk, and I reduced the sugar by 1/4 cup. I at least try to have a tiny bit of proportion in my life:
Example two: Last Monday, the hubby and I went on a wine tour in the Cowichan Valley here on Vancouver Island. I got the tour on a special deal online, and it sounded like a nice day out. It was a beautiful day: not too hot, but sunny and pleasant:
By 2:00pm, I thought I was a pretty hilariously interesting person. I'd be worried about what the others on the tour thought, but they all felt the same about themselves. We were a jolly group by that time, to say the least, especially for a Monday afternoon. I noticed one of the winery cats watching us with proper disdain:
But the grapes were beautiful to look at, and ready for picking:
And the views were spectacular wherever we went:
And then, there's my knitting. I've been feeling a bit worried that I was losing interest altogether in the craft. This is probably due to the fact that I've been chipping away at this skein of silk that, try as I might, does not seem to get any smaller. I suppose it would help if I did some good long sessions of knitting, but I'm getting terribly bored with it, so much so that I didn't want to post a blog entry because I was so disenchanted. I felt like throwing in the towel and deleting this blog and sitting in the corner and pouting. Forget it. No more yarn, no more knitting, I quit and all that:
But the other day, I saw a girl walk past with a beautiful knitted top on that I couldn't stop looking at. That seemed to be just the ticket. I went straight home and started pulling magazines and looking at my yarn stash to see what I could use to try to make a version of it. It felt good to feel inspired by a project. I don't know if I'll pull it off, but I at least feel like finishing my current project now.
I think I might have a bit of chocolate and get on to my project now... just a bit... not the whole bar... not all at once, anyway... ahem... Happy Labour Day, everyone.