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 www.bigskyknitting.com (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?
posted by Gail | 2:15 PM
2 Comments:
It's so nice for me to have found this blog of yours, it's so interesting. I sure hope and wish that you take courage enough to pay me a visit in my PALAVROSSAVRVS REX!, and plus get some surprise. My blog is also so cool! Don't think for a minute that my invitation is spam and I'm a spammer. I'm only searching for a public that may like or love what I write.
Feel free off course to comment as you wish and remember: don't take it wrong, don't think that this visitation I make is a matter of more audiences for my own blogg. No. It's a matter of making universal, realy universal, all this question of bloggs, all the essential causes that bring us all together by visiting and loving one another.
I think it's to UNITE MANKIND that we became bloggers! Don't see language as an obstacle but as a challenge (though you can use the translater BabelFish at the bottom of my page!) and think for a minute if I and the rest of the world are not expecting something like a broad cumplicity. Remenber that pictures talk also. Open your heart and come along!!!!!
Someone else who's read Le Petit Prince!
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