Unraveled Wednesday: 10/1/25

I’m happily joining Kat and the Unravelers today, still plugging away on the sock and adding some length to the rainbow scarf. Inspired by Carole’s “sock in the wild” photo from Monday, I decided to take one of my own while I was checking in on Nugget. 

Nugget, however, had some strong opinions. She felt the first photo was too sock-heavy and far too Nugget-light. (She’s not wrong.) So we tried again, this time featuring Her Highness lounging regally on her pillow in the bow window, supervising the neighborhood and patiently waiting for me to get inside and pay the proper tribute in treats. 

 

As for the knitting itself: I did make a little progress on the sock after Monday’s photo, but the toe still remains to be done (and the second sock). Meanwhile, I measured the scarf and discovered I’ve got a good 24" left to knit. So, I cheerfully joined the third skein and will just keep rainbow-ing along!

 

 

I read two books this week. The Salt Stones was recommended by both Jane and Sarah, and I found it to be a beautifully written meditation on what it means to live in relationships with land, animals, and family. Helen Whybrow’s prose is both lyrical and grounded, weaving together the visceral details of farm life, like birthing lambs in the cold of late winter, battling predators, shearing sheep, and harvesting blueberries, with reflections on stewardship, resilience, and belonging.

What struck me most is the balance between the daily grit of farm work and the larger sense of rhythm and meaning that Whybrow finds in the cycles of life and death. The book doesn’t romanticize shepherding or land stewardship; it acknowledges the exhaustion, the heartbreak, and the constant need to adapt. Yet at the same time, there’s a deep tenderness in the way she connects her care for the sheep and the farm with her love for her family and her responsibility to future generations.

This is not a fast-paced book. it moves in seasons rather than chapters, and its power lies in its quiet accumulation of moments. At times the meditative tone can feel a little heavy, but the writing is gorgeous and the reflections are well worth lingering over.

For readers who enjoy memoirs rooted in place, nature writing that doesn’t shy away from difficulty, and thoughtful explorations of what it means to truly belong to a landscape, The Salt Stones will be a rewarding read. 

Patrick Ryan’s Buckeye is an ambitious, multi-generational story set in Bonhomie, Ohio, beginning in the shadow of World War II and stretching into the postwar boom years. It starts with a single fateful encounter between Cal Jenkins, haunted not by combat but by his inability to serve, and Margaret Salt, a woman with secrets of her own. Around them swirl characters marked by grief, longing, and resilience: Cal’s wife, Becky, whose gift as a seer allows her to bridge the living and the dead, and Margaret’s husband, Felix, whose absence at sea casts a long shadow.

Ryan writes with warmth and empathy, particularly when exploring the ways ordinary people carry extraordinary burdens. The setting feels textured and true, and the novel shines when it zeroes in on the small-town dynamics of Bonhomie, where everyone’s business eventually comes to light. The consequences of one “stolen moment” ripple through the next generation, reminding us how personal choices can shape entire families.

The book’s scope sometimes works against it. The narrative spans decades and multiple perspectives, which occasionally left me wishing for more depth in certain storylines rather than breadth. A few of the characters’ motivations felt underdeveloped, and the pacing sagged in places. Still, there’s no denying the poignancy of Ryan’s themes - loss, love, and the uneasy reconciliation between who we are and who we hoped to be.

Buckeye doesn’t fully deliver on its sweeping ambitions, but it offers a moving and often thought-provoking portrait of ordinary lives intersecting with history. Readers who enjoy family sagas with a touch of mystery and spirituality will likely find it worth the read. 

What are you making and reading this week?