Hat in pretty blue wool (Harmony): started Wednesday evening, finished Thursday afternoon.
Matching scarf: started Thursday afternoon, finished Thursday evening.
Recycled Silk Purse (Artfibers’ “Sanskrit”): started Friday morning, finished Sunday afternoon.
This is the end result of roughly three days of cathartic knitting, following my grandfather’s death. I tried to read on my way home Thursday morning, after getting the news at work. I wasn’t able to read, no matter how absorbing the book was and is (Rubicon, by Steven Saylor; a murder mystery set in Ancient Rome).
I have gotten into the habit of taking knitting with me on my commute, and most everywhere else as well. Knitting had become my reward at the end of almost every work day, and less often, a way to wake up on the way to work (I usually read in the mornings). Last Thursday, it had a more serious meaning. I pulled out the sock, and slipped into Zen. Fortunately, the sock is in the cuff phase, which is arguably the most conducive to Knitting Zen. It was literally the only thing that kept me relatively together until I got home.
Once home, I put my things away and walked the dog. After that, I sat down on the couch and knit and knit and knit, starting with the hat I had cast on the night before. Although I did not consciously think about my grandfather (actually grandfathers, as my other one had died a few weeks previously) in some ways, my hands did the thinking that my heart could not bear to do. A lot of that kind of thinking – productive, unfocused, healing thinking, took place over the weekend.