What a weekendAugust 7, 2006 at 1:13 pm | Posted in country living, food, knitting, socks | 2 Comments
I have only been living here on the farm for about three months; only been married about three months. My husband is an avid bicyclist and bought me a very fine bicycle soon after we arrived home after our honeymoon. I of course am not an avid bicyclist, so my bottom had to get used to this new experience. I can’t bring myself to wear actual bicycling clothing … hey, its okay for people who are into it, but I’m just not in that place. However, my bottom sorely (no pun intended) needed some help, so I did invest in a pair of baggy style bicycling shorts which have this cool gel insert of some kind (very high tech) offering cushioning right in the afflicted area. Ahhh … much, much, much better.
We had to take a break from cycling for a bit because of my kidney stone incident but Saturday we hit the roads again and went for about an eight mile ride. Such an experience, riding past corn fields and wooded areas, old barns, and a few empty fields.
When we got back home we a nice dinner of homemade lentil soup I had going in the slow cooker, then we went out fishing. My husband’s family has had a cottage on the river, about five miles down the road from our farmhouse, since the 1930’s. The cottage is on a lovely piece of land about 100 feet above the river, with a very steep bank going down to their boathouse. Back in the late 50’s his father, an engineer and inventor, designed and built an elevator the family could use to go up and down between the cottage and the river. My husband was about eight years old when the project was in full swing, and he got to drive a small tractor back and forth from the road to the bank, hauling the large pieces of pipe they used as rails for the elevator.
He and his father became best friends as he grew up, but his father died of a heart attack when he was in his early 50’s. The cottage and the elevator are incredibly special to my husband because of the wonderful childhood memories of the place, and because of the bonding that grew between father and son over the course of many adventures in that environment.
And here I am, very late in the game, getting to know the place, hearing the stories and gaining my own admiration and appreciation for a very lovely, beloved space.
Our fishing trip Saturday evening is the first we have done together … the first of many because he just restocked all of his fishing supplies and we intend to make plenty of use of that river. I had the ambitious thought I might be able to knit while he fishes. Of course, I could accomplish it easily enough by staying home, but I wanted to try knitting in the boat. Nice thought.
It was my job to man the anchor; he did the rowing. He was quite proficient and I admired his prowess as he navigated us up stream quite a ways in search of a quiet little area he could cast into as we began drifting back down slowly to the boat house. He was a bit out of practice and his lure landed in tree branches a couple of times. But you know what I admired about him … though the line broke the first time, he was not willing to write off the little $5 lure … being a knitter who has lost too many needles and hooks over the years, I could appreciate the feeling very much. So, aggressively steered and rowed us right up to the tree. I took a couple of tries because the current kept sweeping us away, but finally I was able to grab onto a low branch to keep us at the tree, while he reached up and grabbed and wrestled and struggled about until he had the lure back.
It was fun, really. A delightful experience for us to share together. There were a couple of other tree incidents, but before long he was back in his game and casting just where he intended to.
I only knitted a few stitches before putting my things away in a waterproof Tupperware container because manning the anchor meant getting my hands wet with river gunk … which I didn’t mind at all, but wouldn’t want to get the gunk on my socks before I’ve even had a chance to wear them.
The verdict isn’t in yet in my mind as to whether or not fishing and knitting mix well. I’m stubborn enough to try it again and again until I figure out a way to combine the two activities. I do intend to participate in that Sock Wars competition the SockMonkeys is sponsoring, so I can knit those socks while fishing. I mean, after all, if you’re going to use socks as a weapon you may as well get a bit of river gunk and fish guts on them, right?
Oh, over the course of the weekend I did turn the heel of my second sock and am about halfway down the foot. I’ll finish them in a day or so and share a photo of the finished project. In the meantime, I offer two photos for your viewing pleasure: 1) a pretty view of the river shoreline as our fishing trip began, and 2) evidence I did attempt to knit in a small fishing boat, and 3) a little piece of my husband rowing the boat.
Blessed be your day.