Snow has arrived on the birdhouse roof. The summer and fall seasons are over. The gardens have been put to sleep and nature hibernates. Luckily, we have fiber to keep us warm and happily occupied. As much as I like to knit and spin year round, nothing beats these activities when it is cold outside. It gives more meaning to what we do. Who would wear our wooly creations if it were 60-90 degrees? That's why I sometimes feel for our southerly neighbors who must knit in cotton or other cooler fibers. Nothing beats the warmth of an aran sweater or colorful fairisle mittens not to mention handknitted socks. This reminds me of Neruda in "Ode to My Socks"
Here is another pic of my cat Bennie seated upon three of my handknit shawls. He knows where to park on a cold winter's day :)
of my ode is this:
beauty is twice
and what is good is doubly
when it is a matter of two socks
made of wool