The lake is frozen so deep the ice fishing huts huddle near the center of the lake, looking for open water. They tell me the fishing is good this year but the idea of sitting out there leaves me cold. (Pun intended.)
The dog makes quick work of his ‘walk’. It seems like the door barely closes, when it reopens and my husband and the pup hurry back inside.
We’ve given up making weekend plans because the weather conspires against us. Just when it looks like there’s a window of opportunity to visit the kids, the forecast changes and snow descends again. So we stay put and relax by the fire without guilt. There has been a lot of movie watching this season.
This is also the year for knitting. And if the weather keeps up like this much longer I may finally do something I swore I’d never do – an afghan. The idea of something to snuggle under even as it flows off my needles is appealing at the moment.
I prefer short term commitments, like socks and hats. Even a sweater challenges my attention span. I have two completed. Rather, almost completed. They are languishing in a basket, waiting for me to sew them up. Truth is, I’ve lost interest in them and have moved on to other loves.
It’s the process I love more than the finished piece. Colour moving through my fingers. The challenge of lace or intricate cables. Even the possibility in a pattern is part of this. Where others have stashes of yarn (and I have one as well) I have a stash of patterns. More than I could knit up in a lifetime.
Although, with the way this winter is playing with us, there might be enough time.