dare I say…spring?


I think I do dare say it:

Spring!

There it is, folks: The traditional first-crocus-of-the-year shot.

And here is the non-traditional first-dog-rolling-on-the-grass-of-the-year shot.

Yes, I do realize that he is not actually rolling in that photo. But he had just rolled. So it’s kind of an action shot. A post-action shot, really.

Buddy and I had a nice little romp outside in the back yard last week. It was actually WARM here–69 degrees F and heavenly, just heavenly. Unfortunately, the wizards of weather have decreed that this week it is cold and rainy and grey. Even Sir Dog does not wish to roll around in the mud puddles.

Knitting, anyone?

In spring, I get shawl-crazy. All right, yes, I know I am shawl-crazy most of the year, but in spring, I lose my mind just a wee bit more than usual about such things. My excuse this time is that I am knitting a gift for someone.

That’s not a hat on poor Thaddeus, that’s the beginnings of a shawlette. And it’s not a gift for him (sadly, his wings get in the way of anything about his shoulders), it’s for a human. The pattern is Traveling Woman (Ravelry link) by Liz Abinante of feministy.com. That photo is a bit behind the times; I’m nearly done with the final edging. Woot! Yarn: Lorna’s Laces Shepherd Sock; Colour: Tahoe.

The yarn is so soft that sometimes I just hold the project in my lap and pet it. No lie.

[singsong] Someone’s getting a giftie in their mailbox in April…(I say “April” because we are, after all, dealing with the vagaries of PostCanada. One must be realistic when dealing with The Vagaries.)

As for me, I seem to be stuck in a colourway ditch:

That, my friends, is Indigodragonfly‘s work. It’s merino, cashmere, and nylon. If you haven’t met up with one of Indigodragonfly’s skeins yet, then you need to, because her yarn bases are wicked, her colours are evil, and the colour names themselves are funny and smart-ass.

I have trouble resisting a good smart-ass colour name.

The colour above? House Drop. As in, what would a wicked witch look like afterwards if you dropped a house on her? (Yes. Ewwww, indeed.)

Even the wild sparrow…

Last weekend, we saved a wild bird that had gotten stuck in our woodstove pipe. For a while there, however, we weren’t really sure if the little Winged Thing was going to make it or not.

Early Friday morning I’d heard this terrible scrabbling and scraping noise as the poor bird fell two stories from chimney to the bend in the pipe right over the stove itself (just out of the photo, below).

The landlord was called. The landlord’s henchman was called. The henchman’s henchmen were called. At one point, there were so many people standing around the woodstove that it looked as though we were all freezing our arses off.

Except we weren’t. And besides: No fire. (One of the henchman’s henchmen tried to light a fire, “to smoke ’em out ‘top” but the rest of us quickly larned him that killing a bird in cold blood–in Sandi and Nicholas’ home, anyway–is Bad Bad Karma Indeed.)

The henchmen left (all of them). The landlord left, saying that he thought we ought to either wait until it fell down into the stove or else just sort of died (“because dead birds don’t smell, you know, so no worries”–WTF??).

Nicholas and I don’t like dead birds. Nicholas and I happen to love LIVE birds, especially since one of our most beloved cats ever was named Sparrow (he’s the one at top right in the header). So Nicholas and I pushed a bit of whole-grain bread up inside the flue opening, along with a couple of slices of cucumber (for water), and hoped. And wouldn’t you know it? A bit later, Nicholas was calling to me saying, “The bird’s in the stove! The bird’s in the stove!” When I opened the door to the woodstove itself, there it was, this poor little shocked thing huddling in a corner, its eyes glazed over a bit. (Your eyes would be glazed over a bit, too, if you had just spent a day-and-a-half inside a well-used stovepipe.)

It was a starling, filthy, clearly exhausted, and breathing with difficulty. But when I nudged it gently with a stick, it flew out the stove and right out the open front door and didn’t stop until it reached a tree branch on the other side of the driveway.

Hooray! One for Mother Nature!

Yes, it is just a bird. But it, like me, is a very small thing in a very big universe. We are sisters, that little winged creature and I, for sometimes I struggle in a small dark place, too.

A final silliness

Want to see the original shot I took for the Indigodragonfly yarn photo above?

I put it into the post editor…and then broke up chuckling.

Take a closer look.

Bit naughty, no?

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About sandi

Knitter. Spinner. Quilter. UFO Wrangler. Sometime bead artist and weaver. 2 year-old kittens, 1 permakitten, 2 grownup cats, 1 beloved dog angel, 1 spouse, 1 crazy life. I suppose that the 5 cats make me 1 crazy cat lady; OTOH, apparently, yes, I do need that much feline supervision.
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11 Responses to dare I say…spring?

  1. Naomi says:

    That looks like a snowdrop, not a crocus, but it’s still springy. 🙂

    Nothing wrong with being shawl-crazy. Nope. Not at all.

  2. Bonnie says:

    That yarn is GORGEOUS. Thanks for introducing me to a new dyer!

  3. Purlista says:

    Hi Sandi, if you’re stuck in a colorway ditch, then at least it’s a really pretty ditch.

    It’s always great to hear from you – makes my day to see a new post! Happy spring to you!

  4. Arla Schmaltz says:

    Hi Sandi,
    I believe that what you took a picture of is Ontario’s provincial flower…a trillium.
    As a new Canadian, the learning curve must be straight up what with learning all there is to know about this great country that I proudly call home.

    I was born here and still do not know all there is to know. I am amazed that after all these years (nearly 60) that there are still things to learn about Canada.

    Welcome again, and keep pickin’, knittin’ and grinnin’.

    O Canada!!!

  5. Lynn says:

    Starlings are not terribly bright, especially when sex-crazed in spring and looking for a hole, any hole, in which to nest.

    Speaking of sex-crazed, ahem … nice hobgoblin!

  6. Kim says:

    So what you’re telling me is that I should hire you as the official photographer/stylist for my yarn? 😉

    BTW, I debuted my Arts Directory text at a workshop today and there was an actual sigh that came across the room when I got to the line that you penned. Your words are magic, my friend!

  7. Nancy (leomom on ravelry) says:

    I agree – any sign of spring, no matter how brief, is oh so very welcome. Lets banish those winter hobgoblins – Happy Spring!

  8. iriegemini says:

    Love the gargoyle patch!

  9. Paula says:

    What is it with birds in fireplaces? We had a saw whet owl in our fireplace a couple of weeks ago. We did manage to catch it and release it outside. I’m impressed you let yours loose in the house!

  10. Gardening, huh? It’s a good thing there were pictures to prove it!

  11. Polly says:

    This is very late, but I can’t let the flower thing pass: those are snowdrops. Trilliums are BIG, and not early spring flowers; they show up once all the leaves are out, and you could never lose them in a pile of leaves. They’re also wildflowers (trilliums), and forest flowers, so you rarely find them in your garden. Take it from a Canadian born and bred.

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