You may recall that I could not get over the light and color in New Mexico during my visit there this past February. Both were stunning to the point of life-altering, or so it seemed, and I took many photographs, almost desperately trying to capture traces of what I saw that moved me so. In particular, there is a pale, almost greyish green with flecks of yellow that flashes here and there in the desert and the foothills. Mostly that color caught my eye from a moving car, and when we stopped I tended to focus the camera on the colors of rocks, the contrast of deep blue sky with red hills, cottonwood trees, and ruins, not unlike the ruins of this monastery here, so I was not quite as successful in capturing that ubiquitous shade of green, but I did my best to memorize it anyway.
The colors in the photo above are beautiful, aren’t they? But look below the blue, and shades of red in the background. Look at the foreground, at the grasses. That is the green I am talking about.
On the flights home, I decided to knit my aunt a gift, a throw, and when I imagined myself in her sitting room, full of its own light and color, I knew in my bones that shade of green was necessary. Fortunately, a designer whose color-sense I have grown to love, Jared Flood, believed that color was necessary too, and had had the grace to name it “foothills.” So I ordered the yarn, tried to catch up on schoolwork and work-work, and waited.
After the wool arrived, I wound it into cakes, packed it away to resist the temptation of beginning, and continued to try to catch up on schoolwork and work-work. My brilliant plan was to get as much of both as I could done before heading to another new-to-me and favorite place, Holy Cross Monastery, on the 19th of March for a three day retreat in deep silence. I planned to read and knit most of my time there. And I did. I finished a required book, and on the long car ride to the monastery and silence I started in on the throw. I knit and read, read and knit, and knit and read. I went for two long walks: one with painting, one without painting but with ankle turning. Then I knit and read some more, this time with ice on my elevated ankle. I knit all the way home, and on and off for another week or so, finishing up on the 4th of April.
I am, I regret to say, still woefully behind on schoolwork and work-work. However, with the onset of spring, I finished a couple of cardigans. The first is Sprössling, (German for sprout), knit in Loft, another Jared Flood/Brooklyn Tweed yarn, colorway “button jar.” It is lightweight, and just warm enough for those spring days that are a little cool, but not too cold. I fittingly wore this fine new cardigan when I finally sowed seeds for broccoli, basil, tomatoes, sugar snap peas, sunflowers, columbine and carrots over a recent weekend. I am woefully behind on the garden-work too.
The other cardigan you may remember my working on and reworking on from a former post. It is Central Park Hoodie, with Viking cable variations and some tweaks of my own, finished and none the worse for the wear or the cursing. It is a bit warm for the weather at the moment, but I am sure there will be opportunities to wear it before the heat of summer sets in. And that’s the state of the knitting here. What’s on your needles?