Jennyarn

Saga is an Icelandic word. It means that which is said, a story, tale,
or history. It has a common origin with the word say. Saga is also
the name of the Icelandic cardigan I am knitting!

I can’t really think of much I could possibly say against knitting.
After all, I do like it. Sometimes, though, some parts of knitting
can be downright dreary. Rows and rows of stockinette stitch?
That is flat knitting at its worse in my book. I suppose purling
every round is not much perkier, for circular knitting. That is
usually limited though so it’s not so bad. Then there is the knitting
only fit for people much more methodical or disciplined than I.

Delicate lacy shawls? No doubt, they can be unspeakably beautiful. I would
be tickled pink polkadots to have created one. Yet even the simpler ones are
overly involved and fussy for me. And they inevitably become afraid I will
defenestrate them. I have started such lacy knits with the best intentions
to focus carefully. And maybe no one part is difficult per se. Yet something
invariably prevents me from getting very far before I find some peculiar
mistake or get hopelessly lost. Then more time is spent fretting and counting
dismayed stitches than knitting. Bah.

You know my remedy for such knitting blues? Icelandic yarn & Icelandic patterns.
Bingo! Lopi - Icelandic wool - is not for everyone. It is soft. You know, relative to burlap.
It is not scratchy. Er, relative to Brillo pads. Poison oak would probably make you itch
much more than Lopi too. Okay, so I may not be selling you on it. Try it anyway. Why?
Because it is magical. The patterns from the Lopi books? They’re incredible. Never mind
that it’s not the softest yarn, that the patterns may seem more traditional than modern.
I suspect you will come to love it! I have. The cats love it too.

With Icelandic knitting & Lopi, I feel catapulted from a bewildered, uncoordinated amateur into a knitting sensation. You can have a garment that will last ages if not eons, and it will be timelessly fashionable to boot. It needn’t, after all, be worn against the skin. If a wearable does not appeal, how about a bag, pillow or rug? Lopi also felts nicely. Choose a pattern with more than one color and you will have lots of fun too. Really. Reading color charts for some Fair Isle knits may be arduous. Reading the Lopi color charts is absurdly easy and euphorically cool. When I knit from them I feel like a child playing a favorite game. Many a beginner’s scarf was more difficult for me than this cardigan.

Plus, Lopi has the grace to look decent no matter how it’s knitted. That is a blessing for me because I suppose I am a little more into speed than absolute stitch precision. When one stitch dropped eight levels down I was able to unravel down to it, through various colors, and get it back on board without a trace of its lowly past. Lopi yarn along with the Lopi pattern books equals knit magic!

This sweater will be cut down the middle - steeked - to form the cardigan!

“I have always held firmly to the thought that each one of us can do a little to bring some portion of misery to an end.” -Albert Schweitzer

I’d like to think this is true. I ‘d also like to think that I am not adding to any misery but I don’t suppose that is always measurable, or even knowable.

I wrote previously about Oliver’s condition. Now my dear cat has been through the surgery for amputation of his left front leg. I am trying to think of it positively. There is just no end to what one can feel badly about in the world. How can I ever really feel at ease knowing others are suffering? Caring sometimes means you have to be willing to become an expert witness to desperation, to pain. Who wants to go there? Many people do not, I gather. It is a difficult balance for me to come up with: turning a blind eye is no answer and neither is becoming overwhelmed and immobilized by the woes of the world.

For me, with Oliver, this was the worse part: I knew he must be in a lot of pain and I could hardly stand it. What have I done to him? was my inevitable, plaguing question.

Maybe Saturday was all the more terrible because of the extreme contrast: Friday when I returned with Oliver after his surgery, he was doing so remarkably well! Right away he jumped to the couch and there snuggled with me and his many cat friends like Bijou and Thisbe and his sister Jordan. I was amazed at how rapidly he was recovering. It was almost as if he hadn’t been through a major change. It seemed too good to be true.

Alas, it was. I realize now that on Friday there was still morphine in his system. Now all I had to give him was something akin to aspirin. On Saturday, I could not find Oliver. He was not out amongst his cat friends. He was not seeking my company either. Oliver was hiding. He chose the most remote places possible. Locating, much less reaching, him was none too easy. And when I found him he was always wide-eyed, never asleep nor comfortably lounging. Oh, what have I done?

Getting through that Saturday was so incredibly distressing. Oliver would purr if I pet him but he was usually in some small area where I could barely reach him. I was so happy about his recovery on Friday. Now it seemed so sad and grim and the thought of him being in so much pain was horrible. I had to extract him from hiding places and I was afraid of hurting him. I wasn’t sure of the best way to carry him. I didn’t want to resort to putting him in a recovery cage - somehow that seemed cruel. He did eat the baby food I’d give him so at least that was one little pleasure for him.

I am so glad that gloomy Saturday, the 12th of July, is behind us! The last week or so has felt like one very long day. Oliver is now doing fairly well.

Lulu, Spice, Jordan & Oliver lounge on their bed, which looks suspiciously like my bed.

It is hard to find the strength to endure the cats’ afflictions. Just being there in kindness and giving attention makes a difference. Simply acknowledging a cat through eye contact makes a difference. I think Oliver felt safer in his concealed hiding places but I do not think he wished to be left alone. He almost seemed relieved when I would find him. Sometimes there is nothing you can do to substantially take away pain. I have to believe that the caring time you devote to someone who’s hurting, feline or otherwise, is beneficial, is important, is time very well spent ♥

Gloomy Sunday is the name of a hauntingly beautiful song. There are so many renditions of it, you are virtually assured of liking one!