unravel to reveal

island yarn
Originally uploaded by hitbyabus.

i have knitted in many places. but none compares to the pure joy of hunkering down in an adirondack chair that overlooks the rocky cove of your own private island.

not mine, of course. but my brother's girlfriend laurie and her family are lucky enough to own a 45-acre slice of heaven off the coast of maine.

it's called pleasant island, but that doesn't begin to describe it.

there is no electricity. no plumbing. no heat. you wash in a basin outside and pee in the woods. you take your life in your hands getting there. (we arrived at dawn via a 40-foot lobster boat and had to row ashore with all of our gear--including a 13-pound norwich terrier--in a tiny wooden rowboat.) you land on the beach, exhausted, non-caffeinated, cursing. and when you're finally ready to leave, there are no guarantees that mother nature will allow it.

but then you climb up the dunes and see where you will be spending the next 48 hours of your life. actually, you don't so much see it at first. you smell it. salty air, meadow grasses, pine needles.

you walk about 100 yards to a tiny cabin. inside are the photos, feathers, sea glass, and shells wothy of being saved for a lifetime inside this weathered, shingled treasure box.

somebody puts on a pot of the best coffee you've ever tasted in your life. now it's light outside. light enough to knit. and you just happen to have a brand new ball of fresh, scratchy orange wool.