Talkin' To Me Self

Reading:

_The Dowry_ by Walker Keady.
_An Irish Country Doctor_ by Patrick Taylor.

The Irish voice...
the cadences
of an Irish-Ameican childhood
re-emerge easily.

Aunt Mae was the one
for talking to herself:

"May God forgive him!"
(Reserved for an enemy.)

"Look at the cut of him!"
(Denigration for the husband
with egg drippings on his tie.)

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!"
(Followed by the sign of the cross.)
Used in multiple circumstances.

Age and Irish memory is upon me.

Yesterday I finished a seam
with a three-needle bind off.
(Had only done it once before.)
And why in God's name anyone
would even consider
such an awkward process...


I fiddled and fidgetted and
cursed my own clumsiness
(silently of course).

But wouldn't you know
it made a lovely ridge
across the shoulder.
Well worth the effort...

Feeling brave
I made eyelets
in the ribbed neck trim.

I'd made eyelets before
using yo k2 together
as the sequence.

In ribbing
it had to be
p1, k1, y fwd, k2 tog.

Nothing complicated.
Right?

But the only way
I could remember it
was to repeat it aloud.

...one retarded scholar
ye might say.

Did the whole neckline
in one fell swoop.

Wouldn't do to
lose one's place.

Lovely finish,
if I do say so myself.
And I have a fine bit of ribbon
to make the gathers.

Today:
Wash it and block it
and tell it
what an all together
great sweater, it is.

And have a cuppa tea
and finish me book.

Enought talking to oneself...