For Mother

It was uncommonly cold all day.  The black dial on our outdoor thermometer crept lower and lower, pointing at ever-sinking numbers (the little sub-zero rascals!).  Church was (appropriately) cancelled.  After exerting herculean effort to shovel the driveway of drifted snow, I decided to entertain a calming, creative indoor project that would keep me propped with pillows on the cozy couch for the rest of the afternoon.  But what should it be?

My mother used to say, “Necessity is the mother of invention.” She lived that way, thrifty to a fault, often redefining what it meant to be resourceful.  She even made my wedding dress out of sale fabric, and without a pattern.

They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, and I guess I have a smidgen of my mother’s enterprising resourcefulness.  She was an avid knitter who knew no limits – she didn’t flinch at complicated cables and knots in sweaters and afghans, or multi-colored patterns in Norweign gloves. Spurred by the thought of doing something innovative (and sort of in her honor), I investigated my stash of old yarns to find several small balls of beautiful wool tweed, a few skeins of baby yarn, some fluffy oversized pink something-or-other, and leftover scraps of various colors of cotton.  Hmmm…what could I do with the cotton?

I would knit a patchwork tote, that’s what.

Some hours later (I didn’t count how many), I slipped the final stitch from the needles.

There.  It was, well, uncommon.  One-of-a-kind. Although rough in some ways it was also beautiful in the sense of distinctive, and purposeful in the sense of fully functional - ready to carry books, snacks, sunglasses, water bottles, knitting stuff…who knows?  

This one's for you, Mother.