Kerfuffle

 

The ankle of one leg hooked behind the knee of the opposite leg, and held on stubbornly. Once they were pulled apart, they hung in the air momentarily, then entered into the fray again. This time one leg slipped the waistband and entered the innards of its opponent, blocking any headway. Finally, the referee rolled up one extended appendage and got the big toe into position for a final thrust. But a rough toenail caught the mesh, obstructing movement once again, and threatening to bore a hole right through the flesh-tone façade. A stretch here, a roll-up there, but little progress was being made. A semi-victory was achieved when all the sections  stretched approximately over  the correct parts. Unfortunately, the components were  tightly and uncomfortably twisted around the corpulence beneath. 

I hadn’t tried to put on a pair of pantyhose since before Covid. Now that I had reason to put on a dress instead of the ubiquitous lounge pants, I was flummoxed by a simple pair of impossible-to-wrangle pantyhose. When I finally got them on and pulled up, they were twisted a bit painfully around my tummy and thighs. It wasn’t quite the win I had envisioned. Maybe it was a draw between me and the pantyhose. Tomorrow, I’ll return to wearing  a pair of pants and simple socks.

Marsha Hoffer

Meditation on Two Knitting Needles

 

Click-clack. Click clack. The bamboo knitting needles tap lightly with the back-and-forth rocking motion of my hands. The yarn uncoils from my left index finger, slips to the right-hand needle’s round point, slides through an existing stitch from the line below, and is pulled up to join the next line. Thus, a cord of yarn is cajoled into becoming a brand-new stitch. Thread held in back, it’s a knit stitch. Yarn held in front, a purl stitch pops out. Two-knit-two-purl, two-knit-two-purl, and a rib pattern is revealed. Knit, knit, knit, knit all the stitches on the front and back, and a seed stitch germinates. Knit all the fronts and purl all the backs, the work-a-day stockinette builds a wall of cozy stitches. Different sequences, different successions form different patterns. No matter how complicated the pattern, it is made up of simple knits or simple purls lined up on a simple rod called a knitting needle.  So simple, yet so satisfying.

The bamboo knitting needles feel alive, smooth and agile under my fingertips--softer and warmer than the old metal needles, more responsive than the dull plastic varieties. The tall grassy bamboo plant once blew in the wind. Now its wood transforms the yarn and brings something new into existence. The stitches attach one with the other, entwining and growing, multiplying stitch upon stitch, row upon row.  From two sticks and a string, a sweater with its arms stretched wide is born, a baby blanket is birthed, a sock is ready to slip into a shoe.  The knitter becomes the Creator; the knitting needles and length of yarn become the building blocks of creation.

The news clips may scream with chaos and destruction, but in a quiet space, on a comfy couch, with the syncopation of the tapping needles, all feels calm and orderly. Only an incorrect gauge can prove catastrophic.  A dropped stitch is a fixable oops, not a world crisis. An unsightly knot can be pulled to the back of the work. Alpha waves flow and alter the passage of time and sense of place.  Two moving hands and two wooden sticks working in concert reward the knitter with inner peace, and also, a new piece of knitwear.

Marsha

Assignment: Hyperbole

 

Meowing Max, the tawny tabby, sauntered down the hallway like the most suave, charismatic, and mesmerizing supermodel to ever grace a catwalk. Leaving a trail of swooning admirers in his wake.

Audacious orange lions, radiating an aura of sheer bravado and fearlessness that could make the fiercest warriors tremble, are the most formidable felines to roam the earth.  Frantic flitting butterflies, their wings a kaleidoscope of colors that could blind the sun, and catnip's captivating aroma.

Georgia

"Max"

 Assignment: Personification

Max the tabby sauntered down the hallway like a super model. He surveyed his domain unconcerned with the neighborhoods troubles that are beyond his cozy kingdom.

Orange cats are fearless. The backyard is drenched with foes like catnip toys and yellow rascal butterflies. Orange is perfect camouflage for ambush.

Georgia

Beautiful Sky

 

Out for a leisurely walk under the vast blue sky, patches of clouds dance above my head. Like brushstrokes in a painting, weightless, momentary.

These cotton ball wanderers watch us from a heavenly distance tell tales of watching us humans.

The smooth edges of clouds show cerulean blue and the sun hiding behind passing tranquility.

I lost myself at that moment, the world dissolved, and I was one with this celestial poetry. In love with the sky.

Georgia

Unexpected Delays

 

Yesterday I decided to take the train to Manhattan because I had a 20% coupon for Blick’s Art Supply store.

I rarely take the train because of safety issues and usually I listen to my inner self when traveling.

A yellow, pink haired young lady sound asleep with her mouth open sleeping upright at her seat. A homeless person covered with a white blanket sleeping, boots off and shopping cart nearby. A very tall attractive Asian lady sits next to me. She had medium gray pointy fingernails and reading a book. She got a lot of attention. All of us checking the monitor of the next stops.

Gray dirty floors, inaudible messages from the conductor, something about signal problems because of the rain. Advertisements for schools, apartments, clothing.

Spanish man transporting catering on a cart speaking loudly explaining to his office about being delayed. This is NYC; we don’t look anyone in the eye.

The atmosphere is rather tense plus anxiety for personal safety and for the train to hurry up.

The train stopped in a tunnel from one stop to the other. We were stuck for one hour. The conductor reversed to the closest station and most people got off. I did not because I expected to get to my stop next.

The train went to a nearby stop 4 extra blocks away from the scheduled stop. I walked up the stairs to the exit and there were 4 homeless people at the top of the exit and a female decided to spit at me for target practice. She missed.

Got to Blick’s and shopped using my coupon and left with no problem. Back to the train with no problems. Then to the stop I needed to take the bus to get home. It was raining a lot with no bus in sight I decided on an Uber for the short distance home. The first driver couldn’t find where I was waiting and left and it took the second driver a minute to find me. Meantime it is pouring rain.

Exhausted, I got home. What should have been a 90 minute trip, safe and ordinary travel, ended up being a 3 ½ hour unexpectedly aggravating trip. This was an excellent reminder to listen to my inner self when choosing safe travel options and plans can have unexpected delays.

Georgia

SPRING

 

Spring
New Beginnings
Fresh Starts
Work together
Work apart
Progress
Hearts grow
Learn more of what you know
Grow and grow
Happy Spring

Laura