Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Socks, Socks, Socks


by Pablo Neruda

Go ahead, click on the "hear this poem" and then clicking on the Q player arrow once you get there to hear it and then come on back here. I'll wait.


Isn't that the neatest poem?

These Jaywalker's are my first pair of socks for 2008.
My 2nd FO for the year. And my feet are ready to enjoy this treat for my feet!

Yarn is Brooklyn Handspun's Holiday sock club colorway "Give Thanks" ... but now they're my birthday socks for the month of January rather than November. Like giving thanks for another birthday, right? Hey, I'm over 50 so I'm giving thanks.

And while we're on the subject of Socks and Poetry ... here's another one.

Winding Wool

She'd bring to me a skein of wool
And beg me to hold out my hands;
so on my pipe I cease to pull
And watch her twine the shining strands
Into a ball so snug and neat,
Perchance a pair of socks to knit
To comfort my unworthy feet,
Or pullover my girth to fit.

As to the winding I would sway,
A poem in my head would sing,
And I would watch in dreamy way
The bright yarn swiftly slendering.
The best I liked were coloured strands
I let my pensive pipe grow cool . . .
Two active and two passive hands,
So busy wining shining wool.

Alas! Two of those hands are cold,
And in these days of wrath and wrong,
I am so wearyful and old,
I wonder if I've lived too long.
So in my loneliness I sit
And dream of sweet domestic rule . . .
When gentle women used to knit,
And men were happy winding wool.

--- Robert Service


Frankly, this reminds me of the days when it was such a chore to ask somebody (anybody PLEASE) to help me wind some yarn. Give me my Swift and Ball Winder any day!

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