A Quiet Day


I did paperwork and caught up on e-mails and scheduled visits, so most of the work I set out to do today has been done. For the most part, it’s been a time of quiet reflection – and not “just” about 9/11/01. That was a horrible day – a day that will always live in my memory as long as I have memory to search.  Back in January, John and I went to New York and visited the memorial to the victims of that terrible day. The 9/11 Memorial really brings home how huge this was. The two holes in the ground – going down a number of stories, surrounded by the names of the dead who died in each building, stand as a silent reproach to the inhumanity of that day. I told some friends earlier today that the sheer diversity of the names – descendants of Irish immigrants fleeing from the Potato Famine, those of established New York families who can trace their family lines to the Dutch colonists, Vietnamese refugees, African exchange students, people from all over the globe of every race, ethnic origin, religion and status – this always hits me the hardest, because it is this diversity that personifies New York City to me. And drives home the evil giving rise to such cruelty all the more.

My little neck of the woods has had its share of horrors this year. Our little town has seen a double shooting in a church office when a mentally ill homeless man turned his inward demons outward against two beloved women who worked there – a secretary and a priest – when he was frustrated in his efforts to get more than his fair share from their food pantry. There was also the grisly deaths of two young women when a freight train derailed and dumped its load of coal on them, crushing them to death. The deaths of these two young women brought back to memory (as if it is ever far!) the death of the only son of a dear friend of mine almost six years ago.  Teddy Osmond was much beloved by his friends in high school;  he was quite a beautifully handsome young man  (not that it matters one bit – I just remember him when he ushered with his Dad at our church and they were both like two peas in a pod:)). I never got to know this young man, but more than anything wish I had.  From what I’ve heard, he was brilliant and creative and so much more, but most important, just a good person.  He didn’t deserve to die the way he did, so young and with his life ahead of him. He didn’t get crowds of mourners as the young women did, but those who mourned him, missed him sorely and will continue to feel his loss until they meet again in the next life. I never knew him and feel his loss keenly! My own kids were a little bit older than he was, but I like to think that they would have been friends had they met; their interests were so similar – and that they would have had a few laughs and been kind to each other as friends do.

Today, like that awful day 11 years ago, has been beautiful and sunny and like many days, full of promise. Do I have anything wise to say today? Probably not:) I do have faith that there is more than what we have here on this earth.  I do believe that the “Power Who Am” is good and loves, and not necessarily in the flowery way of the Hallmark card. What I do take from all of this is that life is short – it is always too short, no matter how old one is at the time of death.  The best thing we can do is live it. How? Ah, there’s the rub!:) Or as the Germans say, “Da liegt der Hase im Pfeffer!” One thing I do know, whatever it takes, I will find a way to live my life to the fullest:)

 

From the sublime to the ridiculous:)

 

I finished two sleeves for the Eadon cardigan by Susanna IC I started last year some time.  The sleeves are a size larger than the rest of the sweater, because I misjudged how much weight I was going to lose, LOL:) However, I kept them at that size rather than frog the first one and start over because it’s a rib pattern which tends to pull in.  I decided to knit the body all in one piece, except for the first ten rows – sort of a modified shirt tail. We’ll see how that plays out.  Worst case scenario, I stitch it up.

That green beauty on the left was photographed just before I frogged it:(. Another good news/bad news situation. It’s the Dark and Stormy by Baby Cocktails (Thea Coleman).  I will knit that sweater, but I cannot knit it in that size.  It is WAY too big! When I started it, I figured I’d go down about 10 inches.  Nope. Try seven more – yikes! It was really funny as I wound up the yarn after frogging.  I had spit-spliced the ends with each new ball, so as I wound I ended up with a HUGE freaking ball o’ yarn! It was funny.  Ya hadda be there. Hey look at it this way: It’ll take less time to get the thing done on the second go-round.

In other news, there’s a new baby coming soon -she (yes, she) is scheduled to be born on October 2nd and they are giving her my first name:) No – her name is not going to be Fugue!:) I might just knit something pink that doesn’t have to do with breast cancer! How cool is that?

Last week we started back to Bell practice, Choir practice and instrumental practice. Ahhhhh that’s better:)!

 

Tonight is bells. Thank God for music:) Speaking of which, may She be with you ’til we meet again.+

 

 

Advertisements

Author: fuguestateknits

Wife of one, mother of six, gram of five (so far) and lawyer for many young persons, I love to sing, read, knit and walk. My politics are somewhat left of Marx and I want to hear what you think, too!

1 thought on “A Quiet Day”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s