LOOK IT'S SPRING!

See? That's my friend Sandhya up in a tree, and her boyfriend below her. It was hilarious, because she just grabbed a branch and climbed up, and then was like: how'd I get up here?

It was a very pretty day, and very college-y. I spent much of it outside writing sonnets ( I kid you not) for my medieval renaissance final. I plan to post a couple here when they're typed up. For now I can give you a poem that was published in the litmag; I'll post it at the bottom of the entry.





That's me, sitting with them while they read philosophy and I wrote sonnets.

You'll be proud to know that I started a new sock. Sock's demise did not turn me off knitting them forever. This one's toe-up using the Knitty pattern, and it looks like it actually might fit! We'll see when I get further into the cuff, but there's a lifeline after the heel!






I also received my letter from the Knitterly Letter Swap yesterday! She's like an older me, I swear! And I wish I had time to write back this second, but it may have to wait until the weekend because finals are eating me.

Yesterday Rie and I went to Why Knot Knit and I bought two skeins of Kureyon. I plan to do one Lizard Ridge Block in between Sock and his mate, although I'll cast on the mate first to avoid Second Sock Syndrome.

This may be my last entry for a couple days until finals stop eating me. I have a two page French paper due April 30th, Medieval Ren paper (the sonnets) due May 1st, Honors paper due May 3rd, Shakespeare Preformances May 3rd, French final May 3rd and then a final paper due whenever before May 10th. I'm probably heading home around the 7th and then SUMMER!

For those who didn't know, Shakespeare's birthday was yesterday and in honor of that, I bring you this. Watch. Laugh. Be happy. I'm seriously considering Shakespeare Scholar as a career choice.


And now, knitting poem:

Afghan

Unexpected child, unexpected change

Mother with pursed lips reluctant to lay blame,

Sit in the creaking chair with a ball of yarn.

Clicking needles, ticking clock

Fabric formed under shaky hands.

Baby grabs at moving wooden sticks

Siblings lay quiet on a braided rug

Mama’s singing hugging them tightly as

Papa bangs around the room. Wary eyes do peek

Staring down as stitches fly snow and leaves outside

Wrapped in wool; clock still turning

Children done with growing up

See only a quiet woman in a corner

Kittens crawling on the floor beat yarn about.

Smile up at Grandma, pull a sock off of your foot

The room is still, light is gone

The rocking chair stands still

All that remains is wool and memories

Of a girl, young and scared

Of an unexpected child, the unexpected change.