Seriously, what happened to the weather? Not that I'm complaining (too much). It was awfully nice yesterday to curl up in bed and watch movies and old episodes of West Wing all day. But today, when I have to work, and my fingers are practically freezing to the keyboard -- then I start wondering where spring went and when it's coming back. Saturday was hot, beautiful beyond belief (and I got a little sunburn on my nose, a sure sign of summer). And today, I should turn my heat on (notice I say should; I refuse to turn it on again until fall. No matter how cold it gets). I'll just drink a lot of tea today and take advantage of the cold weather to wrap my hands in some wool and try and finish some of these permanent WIPs. Like Batman's Jaywalkers, which were supposed to be a Christmas present. Or the second Potomatus sock. Or the second Blue Sock. Hmmmm... Or maybe I'll just make myself another pair of wrist warmers :)
I have a question -- does anyone have a suggestion or a good pattern for socks (or anything else) that can be made with one skein of Lorna's Laces (215 yards)? I'm not happy with what I have and am looking for ideas.
I leave you with my favorite "discovery" of the weekend. I was at my friend Laura's house this weekend and, while skimming her bookshelves (one of my favorite activities while visiting other people... other people have such interesting books), I pulled down a volume of Rilke, opened it up, and read this poem. I'm so in love with it, I thought I'd share it. I'm including it in both German and English, because all "foreign language" poetry deserves to be read it its native tongue (and this one is truly beautiful in German).
To Say Before Going to Sleep
I would like to sing someone to sleep,
to sit beside someone and be there.
I would like to rock you and sing softly
and go with you to and from sleep.
I would like to be the one in the house
who knew: The night was cold.
And I would like to listen in and listen out
into you, into the world, into the woods.
The clocks shout to one another striking,
and one sees to the bottom of time.
And down below one last, strange man walks by
and rouses a strange dog.
And after that comes silence.
I have laid my eyes upon you wide;
and they hold you gently and let you go
when something stirs in the dark.
Zum Einschlafen zu Sagen
Ich möchte jemanden einsingen,
bei jemandem sitzen und sein.
Ich möchte dich wiegen und kleinsingen
und begleiten schlafaus und schlafein.
Ich möchte der Einsige sein im Haus,
der wüßte: die Nacht war kalt.
Und möchte horchen herein und hinaus
in dich, in die Welt, in den Wald.
Die Uhren rufen sich schlagend an,
und man sieht der Zeit auf den Grund.
Und unten geht noch ein fremder Mann
und stört einen fremden Hund.
Dahinter wird Stille. Ich habe groß
die Augen auf dich gelegt;
und sie halten dich sanft und lassen dich los,
wenn ein Ding sich im Dunkel bewegt.