Knitter/Designer Kristin Nicholas’s post today captures my thoughts exactly. In response to her question, nothing soothes me faster than making something with my hands. This week, the solution was knitting, which also means I am  charging forward towards a finish (remember my 2013 commitment?!) on the Mitered Cross Blanket in Noro’s Silk Garden wool/mohair/silk yarn. Interestingly, this blanket pattern was born from another tragedy, the 2011 tsunami in Japan. All pattern sale proceeds have been donated to Mercy Corps relief work. My purchase was a small but countable contribution towards helping.

After assembling the strips, I wanted a sense of what the blanket would look like draped. (Thinking about a finished-object glamour shot!) My ex-husband refinished this Mission-style rocker and had it upholstered in cotton velvet — my favorite fabric of that time — as a pregnancy congratulations gift twenty nine years ago. The persimmon-coral color works perfectly with the blanket’s crosses, doesn’t it?

While I was out scouting for a 48″ circular needle for knitting the borders, Cora nestled into the soft fuzziness. She was careful and didn’t knead before napping.Hundreds of stitches must be picked up for the blanket border. The weight of the blanket feels so cozy and keeps me warm during late-night knitting.

Do you like novels that involve knitting? I’m always curious about them. I think it’s tricky, trying to spin a story, sustain an entire novel, around a crafty passion. Two of my favorites are Anne Bartlett’s Knitting and Ann Hood’s Circle of Knitting.

By the way, all of the pictures here were taken with my little Android phone’s camera. It’s not as fancy as its Apple competitor, but I’m eager to push its limits. A very reasonably priced ($5!) ‘Phonography’ email course from Photojojo has been encouraging and instructive. I’ve been playing with Instagram (it’s addictive!), too. You can find me at: lisaallenlambert. The site is like a completely different club house and I check in several times a day. Let me know if you’re posting there, too.

Did you know that books can be a competitive sport? I’ve never been a successful competitor type, but I did take a chance during a professional dinner last summer. One of the publishing professionals at the table asked what everyone was reading. When it was my turn I gulped, held my breath, and blurted, “Patrick Swayze’s, The Time of My Life — he was an incredible renaissance man. Did you know?” There was a batting of eyelashes and an uncomfortable pause before someone rescued my confession of such pedestrian reading and shared that a friend of hers had been the book’s agent; she concurred, as well, that Patrick was not only an actor, but an amazing dancer, athlete, human being. So you might be able to understand why my love for Maeve Binchy‘s novels is a little secret I’ve kept under wraps from my reading-and-writing colleagues. Her popularity is a given, but there are those discerning souls who would never include it in a canon of literature.

After finishing her non-fiction The Maeve Binchy Writers’ Club, a book that was ”inspired by a course run by the National College of Ireland, … comprises twenty letters from Maeve, offering advice, tips and her own take on life as a writer, in addition to contributions from top writers, publishers and editors,” I searched out her mailing address, jotted it down on an index card, and kept it on my bedside table with plans to write to her a fan letter ‘some day.’ And then she died. Suddenly. Another reminder of that adage, “do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today.” I berated myself for procrastinating, sad to have missed the opportunity to let Ms. Binchy know how much I valued her advice to up-and-coming writers, about the hours of relaxation and pleasure her novels have given me.

Maeve completed the manuscript for A Week in Winter shortly before her death. The day publication was announced on her facebook author page, I joined the library loan queue.

During a recent sun-filled morning, I joined Corabelle on the loveseat, A Week in Winter and fresh cup of decaff in hand. As I read the final chapter, swirling in the back of my mind was the question  ”What is it that I love about these stories so much?” In the village lifestyle of my childhood on Nantucket Island, one could manage without a car and walk or bicycle anywhere. I think I’ve been craving and searching for that way of living ever since.

This is what I find it in Maeve’s novels, what keeps pulling me back to them. There’s a sense of a village amongst each book’s cast of characters. A restaurant or bed-and-breakfast or neighborhood center, pulls everyone together, whether they are related by blood or not. I simply love being there with them, watching their lives unfold.

So there. My secret’s out. … What are you reading and loving right now?

For weeks I have resisted relegating the gingerbread house to the trash. But with spring arriving today, it had lost its holiday shine and was starting to look like disorganized clutter on the dining room table. So late yesterday afternoon, with the day-before-spring snowflakes still falling, I put it outdoors as a wildlife donation, and hope that the squirrels will have a feast.

So far so good with my new year’s commitment to finish all UFOs lurking in tote bags and hanging from door knobs. Only four more African flower hexagons to crochet. Once everyone is attached to one another, I can begin the border, which I am imagining to be about 12″ deep all around and done up in assorted colors using single rows of double crochet, similar to Adaliza’s “Gypsy Rose” beauty.

And Corabelle, my assistant.

It seems there’s been a glitch in my blog post delivery system. With a bit of luck, I have now checked the correct setting options to remedy the problem. (Any self-hosted WordPress gurus out there?!) If you have a minute, would you leave a comment to let me know you’ve received this? Thanks so much. … by the way this little vignette is in my laundry/bathroom.