The view from above

Recipe for a perfect Friday afternoon:

1. 85 degrees and sunny
2. pack up the boat and children
3. grab sandwiches on the way
4. go to the river (the close one)
5. hang out

6. draw
7. read
8. catch fish (just the boys this time)

9. knit a little

10. knit some more

11. throw everything in the catchall family bag upon hearing thunder

12. fall asleep to a Spring thunderstorm

I can think of so many reasons why this is the start to my favorite time of year.

Knishing revisited

It's been a while since we went knishing. It's been way too long. Last night we took the old truck, the diesel that allows you to fully experience the ride, between the sheer noise of it's operation and then the smell of fuel and oil that lingers about it, there's no mistaking which vehicle we're in.

Dirt and rust are it's middle names.


It has many a good purpose though, and we took it last night specifically because of where we were going, or thought we were going. We were headed to a friend's remote pond in all it's picturesque and private splendor, and knew that there's always the chance of having to drive over fallen logs or of running into a tree and for that reason it's good to take a truck that can take a few bumps and bruises.

We also take a saw to this place. It's a must. That, and a sickle. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not. It's back there and not always well traveled.

But the saw and the sickle only come into play when you remember the keys to unlock the gate. When you don't remember the keys, you might get a little angry with yourself. Cussing may ensue. Your wife may say, "hey, there's plenty of other places to go, just get back in the truck and let's go, it can still be a great night". But that's him, and me, that's just the way we are.

So we took our dinner from Subway to the river and didn't worry about the key one bit.

I'm working again on a sweater for myself with the yarn I bought last winter to make myself a sweater, the one I started and only got a quarter of the way through. This time I found a pattern I really like and I don't want to change at all. Miracle. So the plan is to stick with it and finish, but you know how I am about that. My track record isn't all too good when it comes to sweaters for myself.

It was one of those nights where we hardly talked, once we finally got to the water. We ate, I knitted, he fished, he only caught small ones, the river is so low. But beautiful. It was chilly and my toes turned blue. "Look Kev, my toes are blue," I said.

"Aaagh! What the h**l!"

"What? You've seen my blue toes before"

"Not really, not NEON, glow-in-the-dark blue!"

"I told you I'm cold all the time. I just have bad circulation. Remember?"

At which time he turns to me and says lovingly, "Wait a minute? Do you have blue eyes?"

Our running joke, appropriate at all times when he discovers something new about me that's been there all along.

Boat talk

"Some rocks may hit the motor, babe, don't worry, we'll be fine, we're not going to sink or anything."

He's told me this exact same thing every time we go on this part of the river for the past 13 years but each time I pretend as if it's the first time I've heard it.

"Okay," I say, "I'll be ready," secretly enjoying being watched over.

The water is so shallow on this upper part of the river that you have to dodge and dart through the maze of rocks or you will hit a few. It's rather on-golden-pond-esque, minus the hole in the boat, the gash in the forehead and hours spent clinging to a rock. But then you remember the movie.

Upriver we motor on, dodging, talking, seeing fish here and there, someone's camera at the bottom of the river, a beer can. The water is so clear, and quiet and a welcome respite.

We stop, switching to the quiet motor and I start a steady stream of babble, reminding me of our first date, where I talked and talked and he listened and uh-huh-ed his way through the conversation and I knew right then that things would be different with him.

So on I ramble about nothing, and something, this that and the other, the big issues, the little ones, from switching car insurance to dreams, raising kids to knitting, to fishing, and the night passes much more quickly than we'd like.

He does a lot of this:


I do a lot of this:

and the sun makes it's way down toward the water,

leaving us full with it's red-orange glow.

Knish nite

What if this was your pond, on your several hundred acres, all private, completely serene, completely hidden, just yours? Well, it's not ours, we just pretended a little bit last night when we went knishing again (knitting + fishing = get it?).

As date nights go it's one of our favorites. Cook dinner ahead for the kids and grandparents, grab something from Subway for ourselves and sneak off to places like this for a couple of hours.

It's 10 minutes from home, can't beat it. Our only company were 3 or 4 old hunting dogs in their houses, a bunch of geese and this dilapidated walkway near the runoff. Oh, and the owner, a good friend on his Gator, making his rounds and checking cattle.

If I originally had high hopes of capturing great fishing shots of Kevin, I'm quickly realizing that my predominating view on our trips is this:

Which, I like, actually.

This time there was some work accomplished.

A new little organic hat that I've fallen in love with. But then, who doesn't when they look, feel and experience Blue Sky Alpacs organic cotton? You'll find it in my shop soon.

Knishing

"It'll be good for us" he said. "And it won't really be about fishing or knitting, or how much I catch or how much you get done, it'll just be good for us, you know, just us."

He's not the mushy gushy type, who lights candles, sprinkles rose petals and draws me a warm bath, but I tell you when he comes up with statements like that, he may as well have.

We began our time on the water again, now that the cold has passed, and resurrected our tradition of knishing. Last night probably should have been called "phishing", not the kind where people try to steal your information through the internet, but rather where he fishes and I take pictures, over 100 pictures. I brought the knitting, sure, but it never made it out of the bag. It had been one of those days where I was tied up like a knot and was in serious need of some decompression and I knew the last thing I should do was knit. At one point, after quite a long silence and I had been staring at him too, he said, "Okay....you ready to go?" Apparently he thought I'd had enough.

"No" I said, "I think my mind finally just went blank. You know, completely blank, without a thought in it. I'd like to stay longer."

So we did.

He threw the net for bait.

He caught some fish.

I watched.

And we caught the sunset.

The End.

Knishing with the dog

Yes, I realize the dog posts are excessive, but I figured I could redeem myself by including a bit of knitting. Kevin and I took off for a couple of hours yesterday while the kids were with grandma and grandpa and their cousins to see how Sunny would like the water/boat which is a must. We're so lucky to have several friends in the area who let us use their ponds from time to time and this is a real favorite. It's just tucked back in the woods and is so quiet and serene I wish I lived there. I'm figuring out a pattern (not a hard one) for a hat with that great yarn I bought a while back. The color is Prairie Goldenrod. Love that. It's just a simple cable hat, but as soon as I started on it I realized I came away without a cable needle or dpn so I used a comparably sized crochet hook instead. Worked beautifully.

Little miss Sunny was a trip. She walked straight into the water as if there were no diferentiation between it and dry land. Not a minute in the boat and she was over the side and into the water paddling around. We pulled her back in so she didn't swim to shore, she shook off and then laid down/slept the rest of the trip. There were fish flopping, frogs plopping, there was an onry goose and a howling hunting dog. None of this seemed to bother her. She decided to sleep and dream. Nose and feet twitching, the whole nine yards.

It was such a beautiful afternoon I really started to get a taste of Fall. It's still warm, but the light has started to change and the days are getting shorter. For a guy who doesn't knit and a girl who doesn't fish, what a blessing it is that we both love the water. It always brings us together.

Knishing again

You may or may not remember the first time I wrote about knishing, when Kevin and I enjoy a boat ride, he fishes and I knit (of course), so I'll go ahead and post about it again. Today we had the kids with us and weren't in the canoe (it'd be a little squished), but the biggest boat and this time on the lower James River. It's been so dry here that it's rather impossible to access the upper James where it's less crowded, less defiled and prettier in my opinion, unless you have a jet boat and we do not. What we did today is perhaps more aptly named knoating, because of the kids and the midday heat and the need to move frequently to catch a cooling breeze when they got restless.

I managed to finish some booties and a hat, and the kids and I had a nice little education about where our electricity comes from. Meet the behemoth, Dominion Power.


As we were driving past it on our way to the boat ramp Kevin made sure the kids saw the mountain of coal it takes to run the huge generators in the plant. But really, there was no way we could miss it. The kids accurately described it, "It's not a mountain, Dad, it's an island!" It made me wish we were in the canoe and under our own power. Yeah I know, gas and electricity are different things, but you get the gist.

We left early due to some thunderstorms that popped up, but it was probably just at the right time where the kids were concerned. We're reluctant to get in the water around there, although so many people are and they were just too hot. But before leaving I couldn't help myself to snap a shot of the estate of famed sausage king, Jimmy Dean.


Come on now, you would have too.

Knishing

The kids were off this afternoon, spending the night with grandma and grandpa which gave Kevin and I the time to take part in one of our favorite passtimes. Let's call it "knishing". He loves to fish, we both love to be on the water, and of course I love to knit/crochet which I can do anywhere...even in a canoe. Ann Margaret loves the name I know. She and I frequently participate in "knurch" on Sundays when the kids are in Sunday school. We've already been to church and so we sneak off to the church library for a little fellowship of our own making while they're in class.

The weather has been gorgeous the past few days and today I think it was in the 80's. Kevin has been fishing at this friend's beautiful pond, nestled in 90 acres of mostly untouched forest, for some time now but he's never taken me there. Today I finally got the chance to go. It's just 20 minutes from our house and we didn't see another soul the entire time we were there, unless you count the frogs, turtles and resident beaver.

The fishing wasn't great, lots of small fish like this one, but the thrill of the unknown big fish lurking keeps Kevin focused and intent, losing all track of time and the world just outside the gate.




I got down to business on some crocheted baby hats and ended up with 4 total and one washcloth. Not bad for three hours. How lucky I feel that business is fun and just what I want to be doing in my spare time.




To add to the good fortune the day had to offer, my friend Jackie from One Earth Natural Marketplace called and ordered quite a bit more stuff. Seems she's having great success selling my things. Don't really know when I'm going to get it all done and still be ready for the farmers market that opens May 3rd, but I'll figure something out. Knitting in my sleep is looking like a distinct possibility.

As promised here's the chestnut wallet/clutch. I'll put it in the shop tomorrow. I have a really cool emerald green one waiting to be lined and completed.




But for now I'm off to bed. Wonder how late we can sleep with no kids here to wake us? I'm sure we'll be up before 7, that's just how things work around here.