My Mom and my Aunt Lucy are true artists. Every now and then I’ll receive a ‘care package’ from my hometown and it’ll be full of baked goods, bottled moose and jam, chocolate, and something that’s been hand knit by either my Mom or Aunt, or both. Those little things are in fact huge things. It makes me feel the warmth of home without needing to be there. Though of course, I’d rather be there!
Knitting has been a tradition amongst the Poole women for many years. The patterns and wool colors that are stock piled in my Mom’s house would blow your mind sometimes, haha. When I was younger my Mom would knit or crochet me doll clothes, and she would never have me go without anything in terms of my warmth and well-being. There was a time when it likely appeared that it didn’t mean much to me to have a pair of wool socks tucked in the back drawer, though as I get older I grow to appreciate these handmade gifts more and more. They are quite literally works of art in their own right.
I know myself, personally, I don’t have the patience to knit. Oh my Grandmother, Aunt and Mom have tried more than once to show me how but, like math, my brain just doesn’t compute. So I’ll just stick to writing and photography and let the pros do what they do best. Missing from picture, the blue and pink knitted socks I’m wearing circa 2014.
Writer and photographer from remote Labrador, Canada. Just another cold Labradorian chillin' in the Big Land. Can most likely be found walking my dog Grace or behind an iMac screen slowly taking over the interwebs.