Having wrestled plenty of stones myself and danced them through the garden gate, I love the imagery of this poem and its lapidary lines.
I’m trying to solve the problem of the paths
between the beds. A six-inch cover
of cedar-chips that took a month to lay
rotted in two years and turned to weeds.
I scraped them up and carted them away,
then planted half a sack of clover seeds
for a “living mulch”. I liked that: flowers
strewn along like stars, the cupid’s bow
drawn on each leaf like thumbnail quartermoons,
its easy, springy give – until it spread
under the split trunks framing off each bed,
scribbling them over in its own
green graffiti . . . I ripped it out
and now I’m trying to set these paths in stone.
It isn’t hard to find: the ground here’s littered
with rough-cut slabs, some of them so vast
you’d think a race of giants must have lived here
building some bluestone Carnac or Stonehenge,
us their dwindled offspring, foraging
among their ruins . . . I scavenge
lesser pieces; pry them from the clutches
of tree-roots, lift them out of ditches,
filch them from our own stone wall
guiltily, though they’re mine to take
(at worst it’s robbing Peter to pay Paul),
then wrestle them on board the two-wheeled dolly
and drag them up the driveway to the fence,
where, in a precarious waltz, I tip
and twist them backward, tilting all their weight
first on one corner, then the other
and dance them slowly through the garden gate.
The hard part’s next, piecing them together;
a matter of blind luck and infinite pains:
one eye open for the god-given fit –
this stone’s jagged key to that one’s lock –
the other quietly gauging how to fudge it:
split the difference on angles, cram the gaps
with stone-dust filler; hoping what the rains
don’t wash away, the frost will pack and harden . . .
A chipmunk blinks and watches from his rock,
wondering if I’ve lost my mind perhaps.
Perhaps I have; out here every day,
cultivating – no, not even that;
tending the inverse spaces of my garden
(it’s like a blueprint, now, for Bluebeard’s castle),
while outside, by degrees, the planet slips
– a locking piece – into apocalypse,
but somehow I can’t tear myself away:
I like the drudgery; I seem to revel
in pitting myself against the sheer
recalcitrance of the stones; using
their awkwardness – each cupped or bulging face,
every cockeyed bevel or crooked curve,
each quirk of outline (this one a cracked lyre,
that one more like a severed head) –
to send a flickering pulse along the border
so that it seems to ripple round each bed
with an unstoppable, liquid grace:
“the best stones in the best possible order”
or some such half-remembered rule in mind,
as if it mattered, making some old stones
say or be anything but stone, stone, stone;
as if these paths might serve some purpose
aside from making nothing happen; as if
their lapidary line might lead me somewhere –
inward, onward, upward, anywhere
other than merely back where I began,
wondering where I’ve been and what I’ve done.
This week has had its share of work issues, plumbing problems, knitting obstacles, and a few other botherations, but there are still some fine things to report on Friday.
I've varied my walking route lately and taken some walks through our local cemetery. There are lots of beautifully carved headstones, and it's been interesting to think about the people and the stories their markers tell. I thought this was a fine way to be remembered:
Justin has not been killed or injured by the rattlesnakes, fire ants, wild hogs, or scorpions he has encountered in TX. This is very fine news to a mother!
I got to see adorable baby llamas.
I'm picking up John's sister and her husband when they return to Newark airport after a week in Denmark. We'll have a fine time Saturday night hearing about their travels and eating some new recipes I'm trying -- crab quiche and a goat cheese quiche.
Ryan texted a reminder about how to put any of the week's difficulties into perspective.
I got lots of great baby pattern suggestions last week, and while I tossed my stash looking for washable yarn and mulled over what baby knitting to cast on first, I remembered that I had actually knit several sweaters for my own sons.
This was the first one, knit more than 25 years ago.
Here are some poor photos of Ryan at six months, looking absolutely thrilled to be wearing his hand-knit sweater.
I enjoyed knitting the first sweater, so I started the next one,
complete with adorable Peter Rabbit buttons.
Then I got the brilliant idea to knit matching father and son sweaters for John and Ryan.
I don't have John's sweater or even a photo of it. He said it was too hot, scratchy, red, (insert excuse here), and donated it to Salvation Army.
Ryan went through a through a train phase when he was three, so I made him this sweater with train buttons.
He was old enough to tell me that wasn't the kind of train sweater he wanted. So I knit train sweater, take 2.
In case you're wondering why I haven't included pictures of Ryan or Justin wearing any of the sweaters except the first one, it's because those photos don't exist. I tried each of the sweaters on Ryan after they were finished, but he protested so much (think tantrum) every time I tried to actually dress him in one that I finally gave up. Justin was even unhappier with the sweaters; he would make terrible gagging sounds and tell me they were choking him (even the cardigans)!
It took three years and six sweaters, but I finally got the message that the males in my family just do not like sweaters. Hopefully the next generation won't feel tortured or choked by my hand-knits!
Today's Ten On Tuesday prompt is a special one
in honor of Beverly Cleary's birthday and Drop Everything and Read Day:
10 Books That Made YOU Want to Drop Everything and Read. Happy 100th Birthday, Beverly Cleary! Ralph S. Mouse was a big favorite
in our house, and may be part of the reason Justin rides a motorcycle today.
Back when I worked in elementary and middle school libraries, the librarians and I loved DEAR time. Even though we were surrounded by books and students reading, we never actually got to read at work unless it was a school-wide DEAR time, usually on Dr. Seuss' birthday (Read Across America Day, March 2), and often for only 15 minutes. That isn't nearly long enough!
This is almost always the kind of reading experience that I'm hoping for, books so good that I want to drop everything else and read, and here are some books that made me want to do just that:
The Harry Potter series - I'm not sure I would feel the same way now if I reread them, but at the time, I could hardly stand the wait for the next book. Once Ryan started reading them, we had to pre-order two copies because there was no way we were going to share one. I remember both of us tearing open the Amazon boxes and reading on the porch to the exclusion of everything else.
My Name is Lucy Barton - This is a recent read, but I could relate to the character of Lucy on so many levels that I just didn't want to put the book down.
Anne of Green Gables- I loved this book as a girl, and have been happy to see that it has stood up to several rereads over the years.
The Shipping News - I know two people that did not find this book as incredible as I did, but they are both wonderful so I'm willing to overlook this one little thing. :-) It's one of my absolute, all-time favorites.
The Children Act - I read this book more than a year ago and I still find myself thinking about Fiona Maye.
Home Cooking and More Home Cooking - Not exactly cookbooks, Laurie Colwin's essays on home cooking and preparing food for those we love are brilliant and beautiful.
Still Alice - This book about early-onset Alzheimer's disease told from the patient's point of view is heart-breaking yet still joyful in its own way. I still think about Alice seven years after I read the book.
The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid - Bill Bryson's memoir about growing up in the '50s is both hilarious and poignant. I think listening to the audiobook, read by the author himself, makes this near-perfect.
A Short History of Nearly Everything - This is one of the first audiobooks I listened to, and I found it so funny, interesting, educational, and just plain good that I barely noticed it was almost 18 hours long. This book is exactly what the title proclaims and well worth reading.
I can't wait to read all the other lists today; something tells me I may be adding lots of books to my to-be-read list.
My list from this weekend was sitting on the kitchen table this morning and I thought it might be a good way to share what I did this weekend.
Went grocery shopping. I didn't need much, but got distracted by a phone call, so I forgot al. foil and something good.
I did get distilled water, but that didn't fix the problem when I added it to the the tractor battery and the tractor still wouldn't start.
It's still too cold for nurseries to stock much of anything except pansies. We have roses in our front flower beds and a few die every winter. I did my annual spring assessment and was looking for four new roses to replace the dead ones, but no luck (yet).
I discovered that there are no nematicides registered for home gardeners. John works with some plant pathologists and when he asked them to take a look at our wilted cabbages and tomatoes last year they found root-knot nematodes. They are soil-dwelling roundworms that attack plant roots. Some types of nematodes are beneficial, but anything that chews on and damages a plant's roots is never good for the plant. We're trying some nematode-resistant tomato varieties this year.
I was forced to search my stash for baby sweater yarn. I don't have a local yarn store but decided to look at Michael's, Jo Ann Fabric, and Hobby Lobby for something nice and washable. Those yarns were not be found at any of those stores, so I came home and looked through my stash. This is a good thing! I'm still deciding but hope to cast on in the next few days.
I found an anvil! While on my way to do some of the above errands, I spied a chained-up anvil and a sign to call for information. Justin has been interested in making knives and researching the process for the past few months. He did make one from an old saw blade which I think is quite nice, but to really try the techniques he hopes to learn, he needs an anvil. These aren't easy to find and when you do they are quite expensive. This one may also cost more than our anvil budget allows, but I'm going to call the number today and hopefully enter into anvil negotiations.
I hope your weekend included plenty of good things, anvil or not!
I found out yesterday that my nephew and his significant other will be having a baby boy in October. While I was initially a little confused (they sent a facebook message and my phone woke me up at 3 am, thus my befuddlement), once I dispelled my grogginess my first thought was "Congratulations and WooHoo!" and my second thought was about baby knitting. I spent quite a bit of time looking at baby patterns on Ravelry, and then decided to ask the experts.
I've knitted a few baby things, mainly booties, several hats, and a couple of blankets. My favorite is probably the Feather and Fan Lace Baby Blanket (I may have already cast on), but I would love to know about your favorite baby patterns. Hats, booties, blankets, I might even be able to finish a sweater since it would be small!
My nephew says, "We are very excited—and pleased to provide the knitters in our lives another little body to keep warm and fashionable." So, thank you in advance for your helpful suggestions to keep this new little boy entering the family both warm and fashionable!