September is slowly mellowing. An evening now brings a chill to the air and hedgerow harvests fill our larders ready for winter.
In the Issie cottage our days are taken up with making the most of the light as they get shorter, preserving the veg garden and preparing the cottage for the colder times ahead.
It’s only a few weeks to the enforced limits placed on me to allow my body to recouperate from major surgery. Limits I know I won’t like. Never one to be pinned down or caged I will have to work hard to stop myself lifting anything heavier than a tea cup. My crafting is changing to accommodate the restriction.
I’ve decided to open my order books. My considerable stash needs reducing in a major way. I cannot bring myself to just give it to the rag man.
I have fallen in love with the way cotton sheets, shirts and dresses knit up into softness. The way the patterns morph into randomness. Mr Issie cannot fathom why I invest so much time into the prep. But oh the beauty of the knitting has enraptured me. Suplicating my inner child as the fabric changes.
Just like summer fading to autumn, fading to winter and on in to spring.