I am to be envied today. I have the day off, due to Night Conference Offsets, meaning when we stay late for parent conferences we make it up with a few days off scattered throughout the year. Works for me. What am I doing with my lovely free day, you ask? I was up fairly early, got Curves over with, stopped at the library to pick up my newest book club book (The Coffee Trader, by David Liss), and spent time reading blogs. Now I'm here with a cup of tea. I'll have lunch next, then go off to la-la land at Ye Olde Creative Wellness place where I am having a massage. Yes, I am to be envied today. After that, I'll meet up with my sweetie, we'll go out to dinner, and then I don't know. Irish music at Ten Pound Fiddle? Rent Mona Lisa Smile? Wander over to Younkers and think about spring wardrobe additions? Infinite possibilities.
Back to important things. Like knitting. Today's mailbox brought the June issue of Knit & Style. I am a magazine junkie. Serious junkie. In addition to all the knitting magazines, which I buy because I want a pattern library at my fingertips, and which I buy because....I am a magazine junkie, I have subscriptions to 8 other magazines. (Great subscription prices on Ebay. In fact, that's where I got my K&S subscription.....2 years for 17.95.)
I haven't even peeked inside yet. I'll do that when I eat lunch in a little while.
I found this poem on a forum at Knitter's Review, posted by MJM (Michelle). She doesn't have a blog, but she has some great stuff in her photo album. The poem is a nineteenth century rhyme and it goes like this:
"Life is a stocking," grandma says,
"And yours has just begun.
"But I am knitting the toe of mine,
"And my work is almost done."
I conducted a little research (don'tcha just love Google at your fingertips?) and found that the rhyme is part of an entire poem by Ellen Jewett, called Sermon in a Stocking.
I had a conversation with a woman at Curves this morning who was admiring my colorjoy stolescarf. She had been a knitter and sewer, but her eyesight has deteriorated with age (late 60's I'd guess), and she can no longer do those activities. That's a somber thought, is it not? So this is a bittersweet poem.
Let's lighten up a bit now. I've done my own take on this rhyme, and I invite all my readers to do the same.
Life is a felted bag, Sharon says,
Meant for holding strong.
But I am patching the seams of mine
And I have sung my song.
Life is a novelty scarf, Sharon says,
Full of fluff and glitter
But I have serious work to do
For I am now a knitter.
Have at it, wonderful readers.