The flower will open up next month, and next year, and
Friday January 28th 2011, 11:59 pm
Filed under: Friends,Knit,My Garden

Our family was once on a tour of the White House when the guide (gotta love his question) pointed out the ancient but still-sharp-looking Eagle rug.

I told my aunt, who was with us, that certain species of moss nearly became extinct because people had so coveted it for the color back in the day; it grows back so slowly.

I was reminded of that today.

At the grocery store, I ran into an old friend of my husband’s, who recognized me but I didn’t him till he called out my name–I recognized his voice. Ah yes–one of the other ham radio/disaster services volunteers, how are you?  He was amazed to see me out and about and looking so well, when just a year ago, who’d have thought…

…It’s been two, actually, I told him. Hard for me to believe it too. I wanted to add, and isn’t it wonderful amazing glorious to be alive on a fine day like today!

Later, the phone rang. It was one of those calls that is the price of caring about people who happen to be mortal.

The first of my outside amaryllises sent up a bud today, my Dancing Queen, one that, going by the book, I should have tossed two years ago when it contracted red virus; it wasn’t supposed to survive anyway. But it just kept on doing what it does despite my absolute neglect during my months of being so ill, and there will be flowers again this year in a month or so.  I pulled it inside so the squirrels wouldn’t give it a taste test.

And inside the pot was a good thick covering of healthy, green moss. Thriving. I very much like it.

Later, a Bewick’s wren was bopping around at my window, its beak inches from my nose at the glass as it glanced upwards. Somehow, when I need a moment like that, it comes.

Then I picked up my needles at last, cast on, and got past the brim on the third and last pink sparkly cashmere hat: I will finish it and give it to someone who’s going to love it and then, that yarn will be gone.

And it will be time to let a new one dance in my hands.


9 Comments so far
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The price is small for the joy it brings. It is hard that we have to pay it so suddenly. I am glad you are finding comfort in the daily miracles that surround us.

Comment by twinsetellen 01.29.11 @ 6:53 am

peace and healing Alison for whatever the pain may be

Comment by Bev 01.29.11 @ 8:14 am

Kind of a sad entry, prayers sent out for peace and healing, and a inner reflection on the small things in life that are so good.Smiles to lucky hat recipient.

Comment by kris 01.29.11 @ 10:28 am

You didn’t recognize him … Reminds me of an incident back in November ’08 …

Yes, the little things in life that can brighten the soul. Thank Heaven.

Comment by Don Meyer 01.29.11 @ 12:06 pm

I’m sorry that you got one of those calls. How nice of the flower to time itself so well.

Comment by ccr in MA 01.29.11 @ 1:48 pm

My dad was a ham radio operato. I was touched by how caring the whole community was when he passed. It was just what I needed when I was so bereft

Comment by Carol 01.29.11 @ 8:25 pm

{{{{{Alison}}}}}

Comment by Diana Troldahl 01.30.11 @ 10:10 am

Sending you gentle hugs, comforting thoughts and prayers.

Comment by Channon 01.31.11 @ 10:14 am

The flower, the moss, the bird — Life all around you, including amaryllis-eating squirrels, a jog to the memory, and a reminder of being alive and about, and the the Call. Gentle hugs and prayers.

Comment by Patricia Day 01.31.11 @ 3:04 pm



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