Today as Lego and I walked the short distance between my house and the Lunenburg Academy, I met a man visiting from Ireland. Determined to learn a bit about life in Lunenburg, he proceeded to ask me as many questions as can fit into a couple of town blocks. Happy to oblige him, I did my best to answer. Most of the questions were pretty standard, but then he surprised me.
“When you moved to Lunenburg” he asked, ” What stood out as being different than anywhere else you had ever lived?”
My mouth seemed to know the answer before my brain could do any sort of editing. “Slow,” I blurted.
“Everything is slower here. It takes a little bit of getting used to, but once you do, you can’t go back.”
In this little exchange it dawned on me that I have been pursuing ‘slow” my whole life. I have always been drawn to tedium. I even once painted a bathroom with a child’s paint brush. I walk slowly. I eat slowly. I think slowly. But now that I have discovered knitting I have truly arrived at the centre of the slow universe. Knitting redefines slow. In fact, it stands outside of time in a different dimension. Knitting is timeless.
I am finding that as soon as I pick up the knitting needles, I am calm. I get lulled into the rhythm of the stitches and before I know it the day is done. What should feel like a daunting project, instead feels like floating in the middle of a lake. One stitch a time (for weeks on end) and I am rewarded with a sweater or a shawl or whatever has been keeping me company on the needles.
I have been asked a few times if I will be selling knit wear to go with my hats. I can understand this question, particularly since I don’t talk about anything else, but for now the answer has to be, no. How does one charge for timeless? Does $1000 seem a bit much for a pair of socks? Because that would be the real cost of this pair.
I simply cannot measure my stitches in dollars. They can only be measured in love.
Big News! I discovered what to do with that iMovie thing on my phone. My poor, long suffering husband, is none too thrilled. It was bad enough having me photograph the world, but now our little day trips are being filmed. You’ll hear him, in the video, subtly ask, “Will you be video taping the whole drive home?”
Well, in other news I made a man’s hat and I really enjoyed it and I plan to make more. This might not seem newsworthy because, after all, what’s the difference between a man’s hat and woman’s hat? I suppose the general answer is tradition and shape and the more specific answer is leaving off the plethora of flowers.
The latter is remarkably challenging for me. I like to make flowers. What can I say? I often attempt plainer hats and then my hands just take over and before I know it I’ve created a botanical garden head piece. It’s bigger than me. But now, with my beautiful, antique straw braid sewing machine, I have found the right dose of creativity in the hat construction itself to abstain from flower madness.
So, Peter asked me to make him a very wide brim garden hat and because Peter and his partner Alasdair live in Port Medway, Nova Scotia and Port Medway happens to be one of my favourite places on this planet, and also because Alasdair makes amazing marmalade, I was only too happy to hand deliver the hat. The bonus was a lovely tour of Peter and Alasdair’s home and garden.
A visit to Port Medway, necessarily means a visit to the Port Grocer Cafe. I’d call the Port Grocer a restaurant, but it’s really more of a community hub. You’ll see a bit of the Port Grocer and its cheerful owner, Annabelle, in the video. You’ll also see our trip home on the Lahave Ferry. This is a five minute cable ferry ride across the Lahave river. It’s a regular part of our lives here in Nova Scotia.
At the end of the video I added a little walk through Lunenburg. Just because it’s so damn glorious here and also because I’m playing with iMovie.
Hope you enjoy seeing a glimpse of my charmed existence.