Saturday, February 14, 2015

Happy Valentine's Day! We're celebrating with socks.

It would appear that we're only capable of updating this blog of ours every six months or so. *Sigh* Sorry about that. As usual, we'll toss out the regular blah-blah of making ever effort to update on a more regular basis, regardless of the fact that after a full day's worth of staring at a computer screen, it's really difficult to be enthusiastic about doing in the evening as well. 

Our last update was in August, when the weather was cool and rainy and our plants were dying horrible deaths. Fast forward to today, Valentine's Day 2015 (many happies, all!) and we're under a few feet of snow, it was -38C overnight, and hungry forest animals are hanging out on our porch asking for handouts. Up until now they've been quite polite, but we're a bit nervous that one of them might shank us if we're late with their morning sunflower seeds. There's a rather ferocious-looking ermine living under the porch who'd undoubtedly gnaw our hands off to teach us a lesson.

This is the third winter we've spent out here, and if there's one thing we've learned, it's that winter in rural Quebec = time to slow down and stay warm. Sure, our perky in-laws go cross-country skiing when it's -10000 outside, but not wanting to maim ourselves any more than we have in the past, we turn our energies inward and get creative. Writing, graphic design, sewing, catching up on reading, and in my case, knitting socks.

Nathaniel modelling socks that I'd knit for him.
Well, technically knitting time really happens all year round, but as soon as the temperature drops below 0 C at night and we'll freeze our asses off if we don't set fires in the woodstove by 7 pm, my sock-knitting needles come out. I'm of the belief that one can never have too many pairs of warm socks, especially out here in Quebec-land where it's chilly for eight months out of the year, and I've learned from experience that the state of one's feet can make or break an excursion. Have you noticed that when your feet are cold and wet, your entire body feels gross? We once made the mistake of trudging for several kilometers in the pouring rain without proper footwear, and my feet were cold and clammy within five minutes of leaving the house. I sank into abject misery a few minutes after that, and the next three hours were absolute torture, as each step was a squishy, sorry, horrible feeling.

Some have asked me why I bother to knit socks when I could just as easily buy them at the store for less than the cost of the yarn I use... but those folks have undoubtedly never worn a pair that have been custom-made for their own feet, which hug close to the foot and ankle instead of causing any weird bends, and are far more durable than the two-dollar pairs you can grab in the impulse aisle of any given clothing store.
I knit custom socks for my husband because he's 100,000 shades of wonderful, and enjoys trudging for miles in the snow and cold to buy me fruit in the depth of winter. The least I can do is fuss over him by keeping his hooves warm and snuggly.

We're rather mired in a number of design and writing projects at the moment, but we will make a concerted effort to update more regularly, we promise. In the meantime, here's a video of our sweet dove doing her best impression of a pot pie: