My friend LB made a bunch of knitted snowmen, and she gave me this one when I went to see her Thursday. She used yarn that has a thread of iridescence in it that gives it just the perfect little sparkle like snow (like the iridescent glitter I used on my snowflakes) — which doesn’t photograph at all well . . . .
The little snowman got me to thinking again about how a simple object of little intrinsic worth becomes an object of great value because of its history and how one came to acquire it. Its worth lies in its ability to evoke memories, of the time, the place and the giver. . . . It becomes a “souvenir” in the literal sense of the word, which is French for “remember.”
Sans segue, I remembered I had this little bamboo silverware tray (it’s too narrow for the silverware drawer in this house), and I had a brainwave — I put it on the little table I have by my computer to organize my knitting needles. It works a treat. I had a hard time getting to my double pointed needles before, but not now. They all go in that front bit quite nicely, as does my needle gauge. Win.
Here I make all these hats for other people, but I hadn’t made any for myself. Last year, I had made a ribbed cowl to fit up around my neck, which I fold in half and which fits like a turtle neck sweater without the sweater. I used it when I had to go out Friday, and it is tall enough that it will cover my mouth and ears no problem. I made it so long because you can also unfold it and bring one end of it up over your head. It fits my needs very well. I thought a toboggan to go with it out of the same Caron Simply Soft yarn would be just the thing, so on this chilly (41 F/ 5C) Crimmers Eve, I’m making one.
Late in my salad days (1986), when I first started doing medical transcription, we worked at the hospital in a little room off the medical records department. The lady I worked for, and who taught me transcription, used to get tickled at me for refering to “Christmas” as “Crimmers.” I was more draw-y and cartoon-y then than I am now, and I drew her this little thing below one Crimmers. (I didn’t know until about 20 years later that she had not only kept it all these years, but had had it very nicely framed.) The sentiment still holds up well, I think, even now in these dark days. . .