I have a college friend who reads my blog. She’d rather remain anonymous, and I hope she smiles when she reads this. There have been times when I’m sitting here at my desk, ready to write a post, and I find myself thinking of her, of how she’ll read it, and that we will have made an unusual yet comforting connection.
I’m terrible at writing letters these days. My handwriting has become sloppy and illegible, and I use that as an excuse. I want to write to my friend, but I tell myself I’m waiting until I have something worthwhile to say. Years ago, we maintained a lively correspondence. She writes wonderful letters. She creates beautiful little bits of letter art, embellished and decorated to suit her mood.
As time has passed — forty years — our letters have become birthday and Christmas cards, and I’ve even failed at these small things. But my friend never forgets, and I love her for that. I love her for remembering me, for knowing who I am, for accepting that I am an erratic correspondent, at best. We could email, I suppose, but somehow we’ve never gotten into the habit.
So the other day when I went to the post office, I hoped that there would be a birthday card from my friend in the box. There it was, a little lumpy, decorated on the outside as always. The card is wonderful — beautifully hand made. The words inside are gentle and loving and hopeful, just like my friend. And there was a little gift inside, too — one of her angels, which she has been making in one form or another for many years.
Thank you, dear friend. I’ll say this here, now, because I want you to know it even if I never write it on paper: I am so blessed to know you, and to share the world with you. I love that you’re out there, right at my shoulder, and that I’m at yours.
Knitting — I finished knitting my Hawthorne shawl, but I haven’t blocked it yet. When I do, I’ll post a picture. It was good knitting for a whole week, but I’m moving on.
Next up is Craig Rosenfeld’s Carlisle Scarf. I’m intrigued by garter strips and blocks — not too much geometry for me, though. I certainly have yarn — Sundara Sock. I chose these colors, clockwise from the top right: Fading Leaves in the Fog, Copper Over Toffee, Poppy, and Murmurs of the Night Goddess. Copper over Toffee qualifies as Vintage Sundara, I think. I’ve had it forever.
This ought to hold me for a while, don’t you think?