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August 08, 2006


Oh, Beth. What a beautiful post. It leaves me a little teary. Thank you for sharing this.

Dear Beth - it may not absorb the tears, but it comforts you when they flow and allows you to remember the love that will always enfold you that comes from her. Feel her arms around you as this shawl comforts you, as she would, in your grief. Thank you for sharing her with us.

Your mother's shawl may not absorb the tears that her loss causes you to shed but does it enfold you like a mother's arms and keep you safe?

Oh Beth. Wishing you warm arms around you, which do absorb tears. And knowing that you know this is necessary and beautiful work, as well as hard. xxxxx

Me too, Beth! All the colours and textures of the wool and laces intertwined with memories...

"knitters, of course, are hoarders, plotters, and eternal optimists abotu future projects" - substitute sewers for knitters and that's me. I've got bags and bags of fabric scraps from a lifetime!

Beth, needlework is something my mother and I share too. She taught me to knit, crochet, embroider and sew, later on to spin wool into yarn and we studied handweaving together. I can easily imagine myself living out a version of this post when the time comes. Rather than finishing the things she started, maybe you could take a couple years (or longer) to make an afghan or blanket from the various yarns which might include details that the two of you discussed.

Dear Beth,
We knitters are indeed horders. When a project can take years to finish, there is a lot of memories there as well. What a blessing for you to share fabric memories with you mother. Thank you also for your book on Gene.( I came across you via father jake. I am a member of Integrity Toronto for 8 years, and my husband Kim is the rector of our little island. Blessings,Janet Murray Salt Spring Island BC )

Whether knitters or sewers or quilters or painters, these are sweet leftovers from tender lives. May your shawl encircle you with love and memory for many years.


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Who was Cassandra?

  • In the Iliad, she is described as the loveliest of the daughters of Priam (King of Troy), and gifted with prophecy. The god Apollo loved her, but she spurned him. As a punishment, he decreed that no one would ever believe her. So when she told her fellow Trojans that the Greeks were hiding inside the wooden horse...well, you know what happened.