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The End of the Summer

This has been a busy and amazing Summer - but I'm ready for Fall. Before welcoming my favorite season, though, I thought I should bid the passing one farewell.

On September 21st, 1937, my favorite work of fiction was published. I love that, as always with Tolkien, every detail was in place, and the book was actually released on the day that the story begins. "By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green..."

As I was leaving work, I couldn't resist a shot of someone's clever guerrilla art - the addition of a long tentacle, creeping out the door of an electrical box. I appreciate when people actually put some thought into it - working with their environment, drawing attention to a preexisting natural or architectural detail, bringing a smile to what would ordinarily be an uninspiring alleyway.

I've seen leaf prints that were a permanent part of a concrete walkway, but this one was merely printed with dust. There's construction nearby, so I assume the path was covered in dirt, the leaf fell, and the rain washed away everything that wasn't protected by the leaf. I found it to be pretty.

A final tribute to Summer, Adam and I went for a walk and blew bubbles - because what says "Summer" and "fun" more so than bubbles do?

And finally, a poem (not by me - I wish I was this good). I couldn't resist - I love this one. :)

The wind was on the withered heath,
but in the forest stirred no leaf:
there shadows lay by night and day,
and dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold,
and like a tide it roared and rolled;
the branches groaned, the forest moaned,
and leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East;
all movement in the forest ceased,
but shrill and harsh across the marsh
its whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,
the reeds were rattling - on it went
o'er shaken pool 'neath heavens cool
where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the lonely mountain bare
and swept above the dragon's lair:
there deep and dark by boulders stark
and flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight
o'er the wide seas of the night.
The moon set sail upon the gale
and stars were fanned to leaping light.

- JRR Tolkien -


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31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…