Squam Stories: Knitting on the Porch

Hey, y'all. I'm back. After thinking it over, I decided the best way to share about Squam was by periodically showing a photo and telling you the story behind it. It's hard to summarize the entire experience, but I can say that the biggest gift of this short time away was mentally handing the responsibility for the kids over to my husband. I realized that my brain quieted in the woods; I was responsible for nobody but me. My cell phone didn't even work in my cabin. I called my husband to check in once or twice each day, walking the path towards the dining hall with my phone in an outstretched hand, triangulating for a bubble that AT&T reached. But before I left I made sure school knew to email and call him, not me. Whatever was going on, it wasn't my responsibility. I didn't realize how quiet my brain had become until the drive home. It had switched back on fully by the time I reached Boston. That quiet in my head, what a gift.

So, this photo. I love it. It was taken by a cabin-mate who was also a classmate in Fiona Ellis's class, which we took split between Friday afternoon and Saturday morning. I was sitting on the porch knitting the same wee triangle over and over, trying to get what I wanted and failing each time. I look so relaxed, but in truth I was just about ready to throw the yarn into the lake--which I could see through those windows right there. As the afternoon wore on I was feeling worse and worse, with an upset stomach and a descending brain fog that made me feel thick and stupid. Something not-good had sneaked into my lunch somehow (I felt better by about 8 that night, although I skipped dinner). Luckily I am aware enough of symptoms to realize that my stupid-feeling was just that, a symptom, and not evidence that the class was beyond me. I was able to approach the second half the following morning with a much clearer head. In the meantime, I just knit that same triangle over and over, knitting and ripping, knitting and ripping, and what better place to do it than on the porch of a cabin, looking at a lake, sitting next to someone who made me laugh all weekend?

That's the story of this favorite photo and of Friday afternoon.