this fresh morning


Someone is stealing weeks. It has to be that, or how it could be June 13th?! Yikes!

It turned out I wasn’t quite fully healed by the peach. It helped, but it took until the end of last week for me to feel like I was totally back on track. As a testament to my improved condition, I returned to the Crystal Palace yarn sweater I left in pieces before my trip to Texas and started the seaming.


Lola swears she put snuggling on the calendar for that time slot.


We finally worked out the details.


I finished the shoulders and the sleeve caps, and I’m hoping to do the rest today. Then, it’ll be on to the neck, and that’ll be it. I’m kind of excited.

In other news it’s my favorite time of year in the garden.




Everything is looking hopeful and healthy.

All of this means so much, especially today, as I think about all the people closely affected by the horrible, horrible events in Orlando. The words that keep running through my mind are Mary Oliver’s lines from “Invitation,” one of my favorite poems in her collection Red Bird:

it is a serious
just to be alive
on this fresh
in this broken world.



  1. Can’t wait to see your sweater, I just love your garden, and thank you so much for the poem. I live in Aurora, Colorado, and how horrifying it was to wake up to news of another mass shooting; heartrending to discover that it was a hate crime too.

    Today I am outside knitting in my swing by the garden listening to the birds. I will keep the poem in my heart.

    • melinda

      Thank you so much, and thank you for commenting! It makes me so happy to know that Mary Oliver’s lines touched you as well. I can’t imagine what it must be like living in Aurora and hearing about Orlando. It’s got to bring it all rushing back. Sending good thoughts your way.

      • It’s even worse: I was raised in San Bernardino where my mother was a nurse at the county hospital, and I lived in Littleton at the time of the Columbine shooting. I keep thinking of the post I should write. It is awful to live in communities rent by horror and sadness, building memorials, filling corners and fields with flowers and candles, singing in the night holding candles against the dark…

    • melinda

      Thank you, Nicky! I think I’m going to like the sweater. It’s nothing fancy, but I got the yarn for a great price, and it was a pretty quick knit, so win win. I’m really glad you like the poem. It felt important to say something, but I just couldn’t come up with the words.

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