The night before last I asked my husband for his thoughts on what we should do to recognized September 11th. This would be our first year together on that date, and it seemed a good idea to put some conscious thought into what we would make of that date, what tradition we might set.
We agreed extra prayers should be said, and that there should be quiet contemplation without morbid dwelling. And of course we agreed that the people who lost their lives and their loved ones deserve very much for people not to forget, not to push it to the backs of our minds. Yesterday morning it occurred to me we should go down to the river, to the boathouse where the cottage is and spend the evening there together in peace. I phoned him at work to offer that idea, and he immediately liked it. We both agreed that would be our tradition ... to go out on the little country river quietly in a boat, drift downstream and just spend some quiet time together in contemplation there.
The river, of course, was lovely last evening. The sun was angling low and golden, casting spot lighting on limbs of trees (both live and dead) along the banks of the river, and setting magical areas of undergrowth ablaze in golden light along the banks of the river. There was a light breeze and very little current; our little boat moved ever so slowly down stream as we sat and enjoyed the quiet of the evening. The resident king fisher scolded us often for violating his territory, but after a while I believe he forgave us our trespass.
Last time we went out on the river, I left the camera at home. Last night I did not repeat that mistake. I hope my photographs reflect the beauty, peace, and sanctuary of our little place on the river. It has been easy for me to grasp why this place is so important to my husband ... important enough for him to live on a farm nearby and to have a job in a village rather than a higher paying job in a city so that he can be close to this place and come here often.
Gratitude is on my mind every day, often during each day. Our life here is simple and wholesome and we will keep it that way. He is my hero for bringing me here and sharing his little piece of heaven. I am thankful I can bring something of it to you via my blog and my photographs. Definitely, after last night, getting out on the river in our little boat will be our September 11th tradition.
Soon I will begin making watercolor and oil paintings of this new life of mine. They require more time than most knitting projects, but I will share them when I can.
As for knitting ... I have rounded the corner (the heel) and am now on the homestretch (the foot). I like the way the OXOX cable continues down through the heel, which you can see in the photograph. My husband's Christmas stocking will be complete within a matter of days, I hope. Notice, however, how small the ball of Winter White yarn is getting to be. The pattern calls for 210 yards of the primary color knit on size U.S. 5 dpns (which I am using), and the Berroco Ultra Alpaca I am using is 215 yards per skein. I think I will make it. If not, the project will temporarily go on hold while I order a second skein of yarn. Keep your fingers crossed for me on this, won't you?
I wish you a blessed day, and thank you for taking the time to read my blog.
~firefly
The night before last I asked my husband for his thoughts on what we should do to recognized September 11th. This would be our first year together on that date, and it seemed a good idea to put some conscious thought into what we would make of that date, what tradition we might set.
We agreed extra prayers should be said, and that there should be quiet contemplation without morbid dwelling. And of course we agreed that the people who lost their lives and their loved ones deserve very much for people not to forget, not to push it to the backs of our minds. Yesterday morning it occurred to me we should go down to the river, to the boathouse where the cottage is and spend the evening there together in peace. I phoned him at work to offer that idea, and he immediately liked it. We both agreed that would be our tradition ... to go out on the little country river quietly in a boat, drift downstream and just spend some quiet time together in contemplation there.
The river, of course, was lovely last evening. The sun was angling low and golden, casting spot lighting on limbs of trees (both live and dead) along the banks of the river, and setting magical areas of undergrowth ablaze in golden light along the banks of the river. There was a light breeze and very little current; our little boat moved ever so slowly down stream as we sat and enjoyed the quiet of the evening. The resident king fisher scolded us often for violating his territory, but after a while I believe he forgave us our trespass.
Last time we went out on the river, I left the camera at home. Last night I did not repeat that mistake. I hope my photographs reflect the beauty, peace, and sanctuary of our little place on the river. It has been easy for me to grasp why this place is so important to my husband ... important enough for him to live on a farm nearby and to have a job in a village rather than a higher paying job in a city so that he can be close to this place and come here often.
Gratitude is on my mind every day, often during each day. Our life here is simple and wholesome and we will keep it that way. He is my hero for bringing me here and sharing his little piece of heaven. I am thankful I can bring something of it to you via my blog and my photographs. Definitely, after last night, getting out on the river in our little boat will be our September 11th tradition.
Soon I will begin making watercolor and oil paintings of this new life of mine. They require more time than most knitting projects, but I will share them when I can.
As for knitting ... I have rounded the corner (the heel) and am now on the homestretch (the foot). I like the way the OXOX cable continues down through the heel, which you can see in the photograph. My husband's Christmas stocking will be complete within a matter of days, I hope. Notice, however, how small the ball of Winter White yarn is getting to be. The pattern calls for 210 yards of the primary color knit on size U.S. 5 dpns (which I am using), and the Berroco Ultra Alpaca I am using is 215 yards per skein. I think I will make it. If not, the project will temporarily go on hold while I order a second skein of yarn. Keep your fingers crossed for me on this, won't you?
I wish you a blessed day, and thank you for taking the time to read my blog.
~firefly