Square 45: New digs

At last I am home in my new home. Saturday was an ordeal for everyone. First of all, at the U-Haul dispatcher I discovered the van was only available for six hours instead of ten as I had requested, so we had to hurry. We loaded quickly. Upon arrival at the new building we just unloaded everything beside the sidewalk so I could return the van on time. Then we had to carry everything up two flights of stairs, which made for a grueling afternoon.

But I had a great troop of helpers who didn't complain much and never gave up their good spirits. The vein of cheerful colours through the middle of this square goes out to Danny, Marian, Kerri, Brenna, Tory, Marion, Les and Sean with special thanks. We finished around 3:30 then Danny took us out for Chinese food at Woks Taste.

Then I had piles and piles of boxes to contend with. I couldn't imagine how the place would ever start to take shape, but actually unpacking has gone quickly.

Saturday night I set up the computer table. Sunday afternoon we unpacked books and worked on making the living room habitable. Tory and Brenna went with Danny and me to Elora Gorge for a picnic and short hike, but we were all so tired we didn't last long. Back home we crashed and watched two movies in the new living room. Monday morning Brenna and Tory had to leave. Then Danny and I set up the futon bunk in the bedroom. Finally Danny had to leave for Toronto and I was left alone in my new digs. Yesterday I concentrated on getting my bedroom in order, and today sorted out the kitchen.

This evening I cooked my first real meal in my new place: baked pollock with lemon butter, golden beets, spinach vermicelli, and steamed bok choy in fried garlic and ginger with soy sauce and sesame oil. It has been weeks since I treated myself to a proper sit-down meal at the kitchen table, in fact that's something I rarely do.

This new place has a good vibe. It encourages me to take and savour my time. The living room walls are deep blue and the old hardwood is orange-brown. I can feel these spaces becoming a haven.

The yarns in this square are blue Patons Soy Wool, orange-brown Noro Silk Garden, purple Cascade, variegated Manos Del Uruguay "Wildflower", bright orange Létt-Lopi and Berroco Jasper.

Square 44: Going greener

Tomorrow is moving day, but then I will have lots of extra hands to help and it will be easy compared with what I have to do today: finish packing! This week in the midst of madness it has been good to continue focusing on why I'm doing this. It will be a change for the better in many ways.

For one thing I am going greener. I've been concerned about environmental issues since childhood when I formed a Nature Club with my neighbourhood friends. We tested Lake Erie for pollution (it was surprisingly clean where we lived) and went for hikes. Ranger Rick magazine inspired me to dig a compost pit (which didn't work very well because it didn't get enough air) and plant an organic vegetable garden. For the school science fair in grade eight I built models of a solar house and a geothermal generating station.

It's a long road from youthful idealism to adult practice. Growing up involves discovering the sacrifices involved in living according to your values. Even organic gardening has been a challenge, as I wrote about in Square 8. I'm the first to admit that I haven't always walked the talk.

The past few years as I have become more deeply rooted in my Guelph community and spent more time downtown. More and more frequently I've made that five-minute drive from my apartment. It's only a 40 minute walk or a $2.50 bus fare, but when you make the trip five or six times a week the time and cost add up. Driving costs, too, but that is easily ignored when considering the convenience. But my laziness about this issue has frequently pricked my conscience.

One of my main reasons for moving is to address this problem. I have lived closer to downtown before, and walked more frequently then, and the new apartment is closer still, so I know I'll take advantage of the opportunity to get more exercise and save the atmosphere from my emissions. So many things are within a 10 minute walk: the farmers' market, my pharmacy, several good café's, many good restaurants, my favourite bookstore, an excellent used book store, Out On The Shelf, and the list goes on.

So here's the question: how can you nudge your life toward living more responsibly on the Earth? Or maybe you recently took such an action. Tell me about it! Write about it, knit about it, and talk about it at your own knitting group.

Yarns in this square: green Lamb's Pride, anonymous blue-green yarn from St. Jacobs Farmers' Market, deep blue-green Patons, pale green yarn from Philosopher's Wool, some two-ply handspun purple and green yarn, bright green Létt-Lopi, olive Cascade, variegated gold and green Malabrigo, Tupa, handspun single-ply variegated sea-green yarn from The Black Lamb, grey and aqua Noro Silk Garden, and pale green Briggs and Little.

Square 43: Lorraine Roy

The last time I saw Mom—we knew she had only a few months to live, but didn't expect it to be our last visit—she gave me $1,000. Two weeks later she died, and I wanted something to remember her by. In a situation like that you learn what you value. I bought a couple pieces of original art, which I could not normally afford.

It was easy to choose the artists. One of my favourites is Lorraine Roy, who makes art quilts depicting the interface between nature and human consciousness. My attention had been drawn a few years ago to a project she did in conjunction with University of Guelph Arboretum: Saving Paradise, a collection of 17 quilts depicting rare and endangered tree species of Southwestern Ontario. It was a subject close to my heart, and a medium that appealed to me.

More recently she has worked several series of quilts to portray tough little trees growing in rugged environments such as the Niagara Escarpment. These pieces speak of the fragility and tenacity of wild habitats, but also of the human spirit. Having hiked many stretches of the Bruce Trail I am familiar with these scenes, and it was one of these quilts I decided to purchase: Burning Bush 8.

I chose to knit this square at a time when I cannot actually see Lorraine's quilt. It is packed along with most of my other belongings in preparation for moving on Saturday. That considered, I'm surprised at how accurately the yarns selected somewhat randomly from my stash pay tribute to colours and textures of "Burning Bush". Had I set out to describe the piece in words, I could not have done as well.

I am beginning to feel that each of these squares is a painting (and Lorraine's work would be appropriate inspiration for that). A picture says things words cannot, and yet the words of this Yarn are also an essential part.

The yarns in this square: purple Cascade, unknown single-ply gold yarn, variegated green and gold Malabrigo, wine-coloured Patons, some interesting rusty purple wool-mohair-acrylic-alpaca Karen by Filtes King I've had in my stash for ages but not used before, deep orange Noro Kureyon, bright orange Létt-Lopi, chocolate Tupa from Mirasol Peru, and a frosted green remnant of another Noro yarn.

Square 42: Verdant

When Daniel mentioned that the green yarn from Tanis Fiber Arts reminded him of ferns, the first thing I though of was a place near my cottage. It is not far, perhaps 100 metres, but we rarely go there. You have to cross the road, pick your way through overgrown brambles, penetrate a wall of maple samplings, navigate of maze of ephemeral streams through the leaf litter and climb steeply uphill, all while fending off a host of mosquitoes from the nearby swamp.

Beyond all these barriers lies a deep forest sanctuary against a north-facing granite wall perhaps 12 metres high. Many tall hemlocks stand there. Others have fallen over the years. The ground is jumbled with jagged boulders and trunks. In the deep shade, ferns and lichens encrust the exposed rocks. I did not discover that particular grove until well into my teens, and I suppose the reason it enchants me is it reminds me of the Pacific Rim forest I wrote about in Square 12.

I never find evidence that any other humans have visited that part of the forest, but I have occasionally taken friends and my daughters there. Everyone wants to climb the cliff. The first time I climbed it was with my friend Mary and her younger brother, Rob. They were small and lithe and moved rapidly upward from handhold to foothold. I followed, but got stuck somewhere halfway up, unable to move forward or back. Mary had to describe the unseen purchases above my head so I could feel my way, finally reaching the top.

At the crest is a different world, equally magical. The same hemlocks dominate the canopy, but it is bright and open, breeze swaying the branches. At certain points you can see through the leaves to distant low stretches of lake like sapphire under the sun. The ground is soft, covered with reindeer moss and true mosses. It is tempting to sit and let the forest massage your senses.

I haven't visited the place in a while, but during this week of life change—rushing, packing, trying to remember everything that must be done—I often find my mind wandering there, scrambling through the verdant shadows to find a quiet place far from the madness.

As the blanket progresses, I am particularly intrigued with squares that use many different yarns to create a watercolour effect. This square utilizes eight yarns: an unknown grey remnant, Cascade 220 Olive Heather, blue Patons Soy Wool Stripes, Moss from Tanis Fibre Arts, a similar lichen green colour from Briggs and Little, some dark green-brown yarn handspun by Danny, some brown yarn I hand-dyed with black walnut, and dark auburn Tupa from Mirasol Peru.

Square 41: Farmers' market

This is the last weekend before the move, and my consciousness is on high alert. I've been waking early without aid of the clock alarm. Yesterday morning I took the opportunity to drive down to Guelph Farmers' Market at 7:30 before the big crowds hit.

It isn't a larger farmers' market and remains essentially unchanged since the 1980s when I was a university student, but whenever you mention it, a Guelph person will smile or start speaking with a ringing warmth in his or her voice.

Some vendors haven't changed in 20 years: there's the meat counter, the cheese counter, the same family selling produce by the north entrance, and the machine that makes sugar cinnamon doughnuts. Others are more specialized, but also long established: the Amish pie lady, the salsa lady, the woman who makes the famous jams and relishes, the baklava guy, and the potter in the back corner (I have one of her plates with dragonflies that I gave as a hopeful gift to Mom the Christmas before she died).

In the back parking lot is much, much more produce. Yesterday I brought home early peaches, blueberries, a big bunch of basil, fresh garlic, red potatoes, two cobs of sweet corn, and black kale. I always stop and gaze longingly at the fresh flowers.

Many artisans come and go: photographers, jewelers, sellers of gewgaws and sentimental art. Years ago I spent my winter Saturdays manning a table of my own in an attempt to sell handmade paper, usually making enough money to buy coffee and a warm cinnamon bun. Then there are always buskers, people selling some new fad, eternal youth and health, political ideas or religious propaganda.

One new booth sells homemade gluten-free baked goods. I easily drop $12 there. The bread and focaccia are not bad, maybe a little gritty, and the brownies and cupcakes are alright, but the butter tarts are heavenly.

Yes, essentially unchanged in 25 years, the farmers' market still manages to offer something new and interesting every week. But perhaps more important is that all the nice people go there once in a while so you can count on running into a friend or four, and there are familiar faces, even the ones with no names attached but a ready smile or greeting.

After next Saturday I will live half a block from the farmers' market. I can hardly wait. It won't take much persuasion to climb out of bed on a Saturday morning, pull on some clothes and sandals, and shamble across the street for a dab of community, beauty, fascination, nurture and worth.

Square 40: Passionate blue

When my friend Daniel went shopping for this blanket, he was attracted to some pale blue-grey yarn, but says he was afraid I would associate it with winter, cold, ice: "And I didn't want to be associated with those attributes." No question, the first season I associate with Daniel is summer: active, passionate, engaged.

Nevertheless, my friend chose that skein along with an intriguing green one. They are called "Shadow" and "Moss", made by Tanis Fiber Arts based in Montreal. He purchased them at The Purple Purl, which I had recommended, a knit café in his neighbourhood. This is the first square I have made from fibre someone sent me specifically for The Yarn, and I am excited about how the blanket will begin to unfold from this point. I have many more stories to tell, but also look forward to including stories from my friends.

After Daniel bought it, this yarn went through an adventure of its own. He parceled and mailed it to my box number at a UPS store. A week later it had not arrived, so I let him know. He contacted Canada Post; they said it had been successfully delivered. I asked the UPS store to double-check for it, but to no avail.

I feared it had had disappeared forever. Words fail to express my heartsickness at the thought that a dear friend had chosen an unique, handmade gift for me and for this project, but that we would never see it again. That day I made Square 14 for him, a story about how our friendship began.

But a few days later the parcel was returned to Daniel with an explanation that my address did not exist. We checked the address; it was correct. I have held that box number for more than fifteen years, but never has such a thing happened. We were puzzled, but dutifully Daniel sent the yarn again.

A few days later a parcel slip showed up in my mailbox. I took it to the counter. The clerk disappeared into the back and retrieved a parcel for me. But when I looked at the address it was for someone else, wrong box number. I couldn't believe it!

"Could you please check again," I said, "because I really was expecting a parcel."

So she looked once more and sure enough this time returned with a small white box addressed to me. Matthew wrote in his Gospel:

If a man has a hundred sheep, and one of them goes astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine and go to the mountains to seek the one that is straying? And if he should find it, assuredly, I say to you, he rejoices more over that sheep than over the ninety-nine that did not go astray.

I suppose the good shepherd would feel the same about lost wool. Daniel had asked me to record my first impression when I saw the yarn. I hurried to my car and opened the package.

That morning Paula and I had been building a patio, but a thunderstorm rolled in and we had to stop working as heavy raindrops began to fall, and I had stopped to check mail on the way home. Such was the weather when I unwrapped this blue and green yarn. "Shadow" was precisely the heart of summer storm clouds, and "moss" was the silvery undersides of maple leaves whipped by wind along the roadside as I drove home. I was alert, my senses sparking. I love a good summer storm, and this image will always remind me that blue and green can be energetic and passionate, too. Just like Daniel. I added two stockinette rows of deep wine red wool-mohair from Wellington Fibres to underscore the warmth.

Daniel said the green yarn reminded him of forests and ferns, which calls to my mind a very specific place. I will tell that story in another square.

Square 39: Chocolate

I was browsing at All Strung Out when I saw the dark auburn Tupa yarn from Mirasol Peru. It was like smelling a fragrance that takes you to back to a particular time and place; in this case, the first time I tasted Soma Chocolate.

It is one of the most memorable taste sensations in Toronto, at the historic Distillery District. Soma's boutique offers all kinds of chocolate confections, but I recommend a shot of the Mayan hot chocolate. It actually comes in a small glass like a shot of espresso or Jägermeister. It is rich, thick and spicy, and goes down like velvet fire.

Soma products can be bought at artisanal food boutiques outside Toronto. I purchased a bag of the Mayan hot chocolate mix at Ouderkirk and Taylor in downtown Guelph. The ingredients are, "cocoa liquor, organic sugar, cocoa powder and our unique blend of spices." You blend one cup of the mix with half a cup of hot water (yes, it is very rich) and whisk in a saucepan over low heat until smooth.

A portion of the revenue from Mirasol yarns funds a children's centre in the remote Peruvian mountain community where the wool is produced. I alternated rows of Tupa with Noro Kureyon evoking the spices in Soma Chocolate.