a special present #3






You were never much of a talker and you let your gestures show how much you cared: your delicious cakes, the sweaters you would knit for me, the tiny thoughtful presents you would leave on my table. It took me years to understand and appreciate your silent devotion, your daily commitment to make us happy.

For your birthday, in this special moment where your health plays tricks on you, I wanted to offer you something special. In order to speak your language I had to find the right gesture which would quietly go to your heart: I would exchange roles and become the one who would spend hours knitting for you, sticht after stitch, as you used to do.

This special present was a race against time and came to an end at 2 am of December 18, just in time to weave ends inand wet block it before closing my suitcase on the 21st.

As you unpacked your gift you paused an instant, sort of incredulous. As if  – knowing so well how much time it takes to complete such a project – you couldn’t conceive that someone had done this for you.

You murmured it’s beautiful and caressed the yarn with your hands.

Those very hands that have so often held needles and yarn for somebody elses’s delight.

Then you lifted your eyes into mine with the most radious smile and simply murmured thank you…


The sweater pictured above is size S of Seneca by Brooklyn Tweed knitted with 5 skeins of Cascade 220 on 4,5 needles.

Au fil du temps

Retrouver, en faisant du rangement, les restes des laines tricotée ou crochetées au fil du temps. Chaque pelote évoque des souvenirs, parfois oubliés. Oh, cette série de chaussons que j’avais tricotées pour mes enfants. Et la petite layette pour ce cadeau de naissance? Et ce pull! Et cette écharpe! Chaque souvenir me rappelle une saison, des visages, des parfums, où j’étais, lequel de mes enfants était déjà né. Toutes ces preuves tangibles de mon affection qui s’est matérialisée de maille en maille, jusqu’à devenir pull ou bonnet ou salopette et partir vivre sa vie chez quelqu’un d’autre.

J’ai eu envie de rassembler tous les projets dont j’avais des souvenirs précis dans un cahier: un bout de laine, quelques lignes et une photo si je peux. Que ce sera beau, dans quelques années, quand je déroulerai ce fil d’Ariane et referai ce chemin à rebours, au fil du temps.

Que votre soirée soit belle, chers amis.




While making room in my crafts corner, I stumbled upon the rests of wool I have knitted or crocheted over the years. Each leftover ball brings back (sometimes forgotten) memories. Oh my, those tiny shoes I had knitted for my children! Those clothes for that baby shower. That sweater! And that scarf… Each memory brings back a season, familiar faces and scents. Where I was, which of my children was already born. All these tangible proofs of my affection that, stitch by stitch, became sweater or hat or overalls and went to live its life in someone else’s home.

It made me want to collect all projects of which I have clear memories into a notebook. Just a piece of thread, a few lines and, whenever I can, a picture. I so look forward, in a few years, to unwinding this Ariadne’s thread, all the way down the memory lane.

May your evening be bright, dear friends.