Violets
...and the return of @boobmonday
1. A good face.
2. Knitting and knitting and knitting and knitting.
3. Colder than it looks.
4. In pursuit of a nut cup.
5. Kitchen still life.
6. The first of the violets.
The Golden Crowned Kinglets are back in the Spruce. Hostas are breaking ground in the sunnier patches of soil and pushing up crumbling mounds in the shade. The hand-me-down Siberian Iris elegantly survived the winter. Our entryway violet patch is blooming. The sedum- whew! I take note of these occurances as I leave the house and when I come back home. I stoop over the beds out front to peer into the tangle of last years Lily of the Valley leaves, looking for shoots. I swing my bag full of empty tupperware up behind my back and squat to gaze at the first dandelion. I can no longer stand my heavy coats or overworn woolens. Spring is here, with its cold, damp air that I swear makes the train whistle louder. It’s all layered cotton and shivering from here onwards. The more tedious projects have been reaching out from the studio and I have let them take me, succumbing to evenings of tiny stitches in big circles. Little by little the work falls away from my hands, finished. I’m so grateful for the way it rocks me, like a boat or a porch swing, soothing. Eventually I’ll have a sweater and a quilt and it will feel a little bit like a surprise. Watching the plants grow and working slowly is just my speed right now. I am tired in that end of winter way: bone deep, sun hungry. I don’t know what I’d do without these things to help me move forward.
Due to the aforementioned exhaustion and the end of our semesters, this is all I’ve got today.
How are you? Is your garden growing? Are you making things?
Sharpen your pencils- Margot has resurrected @boobmonday! Below are a few of my favorites from past Mondays.
<3
Grace
The violets tend to take over my garden, so today I started picking all the flowers to preserve in honey. It's the sweetest harvest <3
I've been stalking the violets on the verge of a farm road I sometimes take the dogs. I want to try catch them when their seed pods are ready but not sure I'll spot them easily/or remember, without the flowers peeking out and reminding me. I did the same with sweet Cicely last year but then ne er remembered to to sow the seeds. They lived in a pocket for a while, before being put on my bedroom window sill for sade keeping. They're still there now.
The exhaustion is real.