Fingerless glove

looking for what's missing... I'm a knitting, spinning, mother of teenagers with a big dog, a small cat, minus the lovely rabbit Meliflua.

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Location: Virginia, United States

Right now I'm listening to "Peace Is Every Step" by Thich Nhat Hanh, reading "How to Change Your Mind" by Michael Pollan, knitting mittens, and thinking about casting on a hat.

Friday, June 29, 2007

My Rose

“It is the time you have wasted on your rose, that makes your rose so important.” -- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

This week I've been acting like any red-blooded college student -- staying up until the wee hours, priming myself with coffee for another morning, slapping on the Clearasil (Washington, DC, water is hard on my skin, never mind drinking it). I have been passionately burning the candle at both ends, just not in the same way most students do.

How did I spend my all-nighter Friday? I partied with my Singer, making beautiful music together, or in this case, a beautiful dress for my sentimental daughter. Cass has an occasion that requires a white formal gown, and she chose a dress based on my Mother's wedding dress. How could I say no? It has started me thinking about the white wedding shawl I hope to knit someday.

I spent all day Saturday and half of Sunday getting drunk on Arans. I took Janet Szabo’s class on designing Aran Sweaters and her Cables World Tour. It is worth every penny of the classes’ bargain-guild-price just to see her sweaters. It is nice that a cable hangover does not give you a headache, just the urge to knit twisty delights for hours on end. Check out (she lives in Montana – Big Sky country) for just a shot or two. I am signing up for her newsletter, because she promised the sweater she was knitting while we worked would be published in the autumn issue. It was amazing. It was yarn perfection. I can hardly wait.

And I am still learning something every day on my internship. Today I learned that just a little every-day courtesy brings rich rewards in an otherwise impersonal city. This morning I stopped to compliment the gardener who cares for the rose bushes near the building where I work. I am sure many people walk by as if he is invisible. He was happy to talk about his work, and how he keeps his roses healthy and beautiful. Later that morning when I was heading out to lunch, he was finishing up and carrying a few cut flowers. When I asked for a sniff of the red rose he had, he offered it to me. It is sitting on my desk in all its completely aphid-free beauty, keeping me company as I write this.

His rose garden is like my knitting, or like any labor of love. Both the giver and the receiver are enriched. “It is the time you have wasted on your rose, that makes your rose so important.”

P.S. Sorry for the repeat, all you Prince William Purlers. The rose I received Monday is still sitting on my desk and still looks gorgeous. Maybe it is from the deionized water?


Blogger Joshua said...

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1:18 PM  
Anonymous AlisonH said...

Someone else who's read Le Petit Prince!

2:26 AM  

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