Summer is retreating at last, and I’m very happy about that, as autumn and winter are my favorite seasons by far. (Winter equals wool and knitting, of course!) Since it’s scorching here in New Mexico, I’ve been busy with various indoor activities, including showing my quilt at the Modern Threads Exhibit in Albuquerque. “Alchemy” is a variation on Carolyn Friedlander’s famous Collection Quilt: being needle-turn applique, it’s entirely pieced and quilted by hand. I would like to say I received a number of compliments on my quilt, but to be honest, the most frequent comment was something along the lines of “Wow. I would never have the patience for that.” I have to laugh, because at this point in my life, I would never have the patience for that much hand stitching either.
I worked on “Alchemy” in the months after my friend Solveig died, and it kept me busy at a time when I didn’t know what to do with myself. I’m very honored that it’s included in the Modern Threads exhibit, which has some stunning modern quilts on display.
Despite the heat, this summer I steeked my first lopapeysa sweater, Mary Jane Mucklestone’s pretty Solbein design, knitted up in Icelandic wool. (Steeking is scary, because you’re basically cutting your knitting in half.) I still need to add button bands and button holes, but I’ve been putting that off until the weather cools down.
It wasn’t too hot to make a small pair of Joy Mitts for Pride Month, so I knitted these up in Rauma wool from Norway and set them aside for cooler weather. They’re very cozy!
On a more summery note, the St. James Tea House featured a Jane Austen-themed summer tea, so we headed over there wearing fancy hats and gobbled up all the cucumber sandwiches. I was so inspired afterward that I went home and rewatched Colin Firth playing my favorite Mr. Darcy in the 1995 BBC version of Pride and Prejudice.
We also drove to Santa Fe to hear the SFO’s beautiful and innovative La Boheme, and we drank lots of champagne at the opera tailgate party and gobbled up all the cucumber sandwiches. I sense a theme developing . . .
When my friend Sandy came to visit, we headed north to admire the ancient cliff dwellings at Bandelier, which I hadn’t seen since I was a child, and Steve was eager to climb the tallest of the ladders, and I was okay as long as I didn’t look down.
I can’t get over how tiny and ant-like the people on the ladders are–the Alcove House at Bandelier is very high up.
I’m continuing work on my fox-themed writing project, and after her visit Sandy was sweet enough to send me some inspiring foxy pieces for my kitchen. It means so much to have friends who understand you, who know your tastes and interests, and who support you in your goals. Sandy herself is working on an article about Ursula K. Le Guin, in which she mentions Le Guin’s travels in New Mexico, that may have influenced the novel Always Coming Home.
Besides working on my novel–and visiting my newborn godson–I’ve been running a book club this summer and trying to keep my garden alive. The ABQ Graphic Novel Book Club needed a new leader, so I stepped in, and I’m finding it really enjoyable. We read only graphic novels and comics in our book club, and this month we’re reading Joann Sfar’s delightful story The Rabbi’s Cat, about a cat in 1930’s Sephardic Algeria who eats a talking parrot, gains the power of speech, demands a bar mitzvah, and causes all sorts of mayhem.
As for the garden, I’m definitely adapting to desert gardening, but there have been some failures and there are likely to be more. This spring I planted a bunch of darling dwarf conifers, and only half of them are destined to survive.
But the rainbow outside my gate definitely makes up for a few plant casualties, so I think we’re going to be okay.
