February Whiteout

My New Best Friend--The Shovel

Dear Reader:

I’m going to blame it on the weather. Outside The Box has been as blank and white as the snow-covered Maine landscape this month. I’m still finishing up the second January sock (just the toe to finish, thank goodness), and I did buy some soft pink yarn for February’s footwear. If I really put my mind (and fingers) to the task, I may be able to finish this month’s and next month’s socks by the end of March. In the meantime, I’ll be wielding a much larger tool than my double-pointed needles.

Need I say it? The shovel.

On Friday, the snow began falling before daylight and continued until dusk. Our community “plowguys” barreled through at regular intervals, keeping the roads clear and wide, and as I watched the white stuff pile up at an alarming rate all day, I scowled and daydreamed about moving to Hawaii. Then I washed laundry and did the dishes. Finally, around noon, Dear Daughter and I began watching back-to-back episodes of LOST on Netflix and trying to find clues that would back up my theory that the Island is a metaphor for purgatory, a holding place where the characters are forced to face their bad choices and inner demons and make restitution before moving on, so to speak, off Island. Since I seem to be living in a Miltonian icy rendition of hell here in Maine, Purgatory In Paradise offered some psychological relief from the mid-winter blues.

“Anything but shoveling” became my motto of the day.

I realize I could have been finishing the socks instead of numbing my brain on now-defunct television shows and idle thoughts of emigration to tropical paradises. I am, if nothing else, adept at procrastination on many levels. However, despite my not inconsiderable shirking skills, I finally conceded to reality and donned my new ski pants (bought at 75% off at Levinsky’s, a family-owned, Maine surplus store which opened in Portland in 1919 and is now located in Windham. Click HERE to read more about this local gem!) and headed out to shovel, scoop, slide around on the underlying ice, and curse Mother Nature and her evil spawn, Snow.

An hour or so later, the area in front of the garage was clear, the end of the driveway passable, and my clothes and boots and hair were soaked from the wet, heavy precipitation which still continued to fall from the dark gray sky. The plows had given way to the sand-trucks. Kicking off my boots and throwing my wet outerwear into the clothes-dryer, I contemplated the pros and cons of living in this condominium-on-steroids homeowners association in which I live.

Red squirrel eating apple in tree

Lately we have had a marked increase in community activism. A facebook page was created. One hundred-fifty community members signed up. There has been discussion of road maintenance, clubhouse oversight, neighborhood crime watches, possible creation of a dog park, and renewed interest in a community garden. More people than usual attended the latest monthly Board of Trustee meeting. People have expressed willingness to serve on various committees.

I see all this as reason for hope. Together, we can make a more vibrant, sustainable community within our larger town communities. As part of an association, we accept an added level of responsibility (including extra fees) along with our added benefits. And while it is important to strengthen our association, we also should remember that there are great opportunities for service and fellowship outside our gravel roads and wooded house lots, over the river and through the woods to our town Main Streets. As townspeople, we can support our local library, shop at our local stores, have lunch at our local restaurants, and join our local civic organization. Since we aren’t zoned for business, it is important to support our local town businesses as much as possible. Greater outreach and cooperation between the “sister” towns and our association can only be positive for everyone.

Nothing is ever perfect, weather or culture or community. Sometimes we need to take a little break, hole up in our houses, and retreat. Eventually, though, the time comes to pick up that shovel and get to work, because there is always work to be done . . . Outside the Box.

A Day Late and A Sock Short

Dear Reader:

For those of you who have been following this blog, you know that part of my “living locally” philosophy includes going back to some of the traditional skills, means, and ways that have been shoved into a dusty, hard-to-reach corner of our hot, flat, and crowded world. (See Thomas Friedman’s book HOT, FLAT, AND CROWDED.)

I’d like to see the world get a little rounder again. I’d like us to live in our own communities, not simply sleep there. I’d like us to buy bacon from the farm just outside of town, to shop at a food co-op set up in an old convenience store that’s been shuttered for three or four years, and to browse the weekly craft/farmer’s market for locally produced veggies, fruits, bread, jam, cheese, and wine along with hand-knit sweaters, locally-made floral bags and sundresses, maybe even furniture. I’d like us to head down to the old town hall to see a community theater production of a play written by a local author rather than drive to the nearest cineplex to see the latest 3-D extravaganza offered to us by Hollywood. Or maybe someone could open a small movie theater right on Main Street.

Well, a girl can dream, right?

Because I don’t have the energy to make my own crafts, create a food co-op, open a farmer’s market, start a community theater, AND open a movie house, I will stick to what I can do right now. Buying locally when possible. Shopping at locally-owned stores here in town first and then widening out to the larger community. Experimenting with jams and pickles and traditional recipes. Knitting.

Which leads me to today’s topic: January’s Sock of the Month. I realize that today is February 1st. I am also sad to report that I managed to finish only one sock of the pair. The other cuff has been started on my teeny-tiny double-pointed needles and will go faster as I’ve already gone through the directions once.

For this pair of socks, I chose Patons “Kroy Socks” Jacquards yarn in blues, browns, green, and cream. www.patonsyarns.com. The yarn is a soft, washable wool/nylon blend. I’m hoping that the nylon will help prevent the socks from wearing out on the bottom, something that annoyed me when I made slippers out of pure wool.

I already had a sock pattern from the Plymouth Yarn Company called Happy Feet (#1311) for textured rib socks and fingerless gloves. I’d made the gloves in black for my daughter last year and found the directions clear and easy-to-follow. The cuffs are a basket-weave sort of design which paired with the self-striping sock yarn makes for pretty, patterned footwear.

For those of you who think, I could never make a sock; too complicated, let me reassure you a bit. I’m not an expert knitter by any means, but once I learned how to divide the stitches onto three needles and use the fourth needle to do work the stitches, knitting in the round on double-pointed needles required only the most basic skills: knit, purl, knitting two stitches together, and slip slip knit. That’s it! As in cooking, following the directions step by step will lead to success . . . and warm, toasty toes on a cold January (er, February) day.

February’s socks will have to be rosy-hued in honor of Valentine’s Day. If you have a fool-proof sock pattern that would look pretty in pink, drop me a note. Better yet, I challenge you to knit up your own pair of Valentine-inspired socks and send me a picture to post Outside the Box.