Sunday, August 15, 2004

Lethal Weapon

Spurred on by yesterday's half-pound, I eased myself out of bed this morning and pulled on yesterday's clothes (why get something else sweaty, I ask) to take a short walk around the 'hood for exercise. No cars in sight. No one else walking. It's early Sunday morning. The quiet gave me some quality time with my thoughts.

Unfortunately, I had looked at the 'paper before venturing out, and what was only rumor yesterday, became reality this morning.

Another promising life, snuffed out way too soon. Is that 3, or 4, or more, of the rising stars?

This young man was barely 16. A swimmer, a soccer player, runner, Eagle Scout. He played in the high school band. The 17 year old driver was wearing a seat belt. He wasn't.

It's a small town. One death diminishes us all.

My walk gave me an opportunity to observe in ways that driving doesn't. And even though I walked only about 7 blocks (1400 steps according to my pedometer) or less than a mile, I was struck by the small town beauty of my neighborhood. Most of the homes were built in the early to late 60's and there's a pride of ownership that sings.

Makes me want to get out and pull some weeds!

Or not.

And, since this is a knitting blog, I give you


Indeed, that fiddly little WIP (all of 5" tall) is all I have to show for an entire Saturday (unless you count the cleared-out-in-anticipation-of-Hurricane-Charley rain gutters or the pruned Magnolia tree) !

The gold pile o' string is his feet-and-beak and the "X" next to him is a pair o' drink stirrers that say "Fernwood is the Poconos-PA." that I found among a bucket o' thirty year old crap in the basement. They'll be covered with knitted sleeves before I stitch them to his tiny feet [ouch] so it doesn't matter that they don't match or that they have an ad for a resort on them.

I'm still debating the colors/materials for his tiny hat and scarf. I have some great lightweight Shetland and some even better (colorwise) Persian. Both are the real thing (wool) and neither is in danger of becoming another project in the next decade. Hell, the Persian is leftover from my needlepoint/bargello days, and I haven't touched it since the kids were little. The plastic shoe box container it's stored in has an avocado lid, for lord's sake!
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