I had a great post planned for you for Friday—an email interview, accompanied by photos, with a member of our blogging community who is entering retirement with a dramatic move from California to Portugal. The events and the media blitz of the past few days, however, prompted me (and retiree, future ex-pat Carol) to reconsider our timing. Carol’s travel is necessary now, but complicated—I imagine there are others of you facing similar conflicts and complications. I wish her, and you, well as you sort out what’s best, and how to achieve that as airlines cancel flights and politicians erect borders.
Meanwhile, for most of us, discretionary leisure travel becomes increasingly and rapidly inappropriate, and for some (my daughter’s family in Italy, for example) even “travel” to the neighbourhood grocery store is restricted, walks in the neighbourhood rationed.
As we’re all gradually recognizing, this isn’t because Covid-19 is a particularly fearsome disease, but rather because its rapid and rude introduction into our various societies is overwhelming our healthcare systems, already taxed to the limit during a normal ‘flu season. So while I’m not especially worried about exposure to the virus (yes, I’m over 65, but I’m relatively healthy and fit), I’m avoiding crowds and being thoughtful about where I’ll go and with whom and what I’ll do outside my home. And yes, I’m washing my hands. Often.
Already, our Saturday morning Italian lessons have been canceled for the rest of the term. My French classes haven’t been yet, but two author’s talks we had tickets for over the next two weeks have. My emailbox was overflowing yesterday, as yours might have been, with news of the postponements and cancellations and the changes to how business is being done. (Saddest of all was learning that Vancouver Opera’s last production of the season –Another Brick in the Wall — will no longer be produced. No way it can fit into next season, of course, which is already programmed. And I’m sure a considerable investment of budget and time and creativity has been lost. Personally, I’m planning to donate the refunded cost of the tickets, and I hope that any of you with similarly cancelled tickets might consider the same. Arts budgets are already so tight, and dance, opera, theatre, music contribute so much to our quality of life. Okay, digression over.)
So whether we contract it or not, the coronavirus is already affecting us.
And for now, at least, I’m okay with the slowing down. Perhaps because it’s coincided with our conversations about Slow Fashion (or perhaps better, Slow Consumption/Consumerism in general), but I’ve been more mindful about taking time, about how I spend time, about how time passes. I’m surprised at how quickly I get “too busy” even in retirement, and this cancellation of so many social activities is changing my perspective, at least for now. Time has become a different currency, and I’m relearning how to spend it.. . .
As something of a meditation on this theme, I recently mended a pair of my handknit socks. Knitting socks by hand, as you might imagine, is already an activity built on a Philosophy of Slow, if you will. And because of the time invested in knitting a pair, many of us who do so are willing to mend them, although many of us, if we’re honest, would really prefer to knit a new pair. After all, knitters love yarn, and there are so many delicious sock yarns calling our names; if we were impervious to the Call of the New, knitters would not be so well-known for their tendency to host a “stash” somewhere in their abode. . .
But if I leave a needs-to-be-darned holey sock at the top of my knitting basket, it does get darned eventually. The mate to the sock whose toe is pictured below, for example, that sock had been well darned. When the hole in the second sock made room for big toe and its neighbour to poke through, however, I decided to try a new approach. If you don’t knit, this might be too technical an explanation, but in reality it was a rather crude operation. I simply took a pair of scissors and snipped right across the instep of the sock, then unravelled and picked up stitches until I had a neat row marching around my needles. At that point I joined that black yarn and knit brand new toes for each sock, in effect gaining a fresh new pair, since there wasn’t much wear over the rest of the foot or the ankle cuff.
The catch, though, was unravelling stitches, given that the yarn of the worn socks had been felted together over two years warming my feet. I spent two or three hours per sock (!!!) on that stage, undoing the old so that I could add the new, and while I was doing that, I will admit that between the sometimes blue language, I did wonder about the value of so much time spent on repair when I could be halfway through a new sock in not many more hours, with none of the frustration. . . .
But I began to think about times when buying new wasn’t so easy, nor even always possible. Times when resources were considerably more limited. When a pair of good-fitting, warm socks was highly valued. When the skill of mending those socks contributed significantly to comfort, even survival. When three hours devoted to repairing those socks, making them new again, was no more seen as a foolish expenditure than the time taken to mend a fence or seed a row of carrots or bake three pies or change the car’s oil filter or repair a bike tire. Not such a long time ago, really. I helped my mom darn my dad’s socks; my grandmothers would never have spent money on new socks for the family when the old ones were still worth mending.
Not that I’m saying we need or want to go “back to the future.” I’m pleased enough to enjoy the choice of convenience. But I also enjoyed (despite my occasional blue language) the thinking time that came with the mending time. The enforced slowing down.
And I’m not displeased with the savings either. I love new yarn as much as any knitter, and I’m keen to support artisan yarn-makers. But consumption is consumption, and the fancy sock yarns aren’t cheap. By directing my knitting energy into repairing old rather than knitting new socks, I’m thirty or forty dollars ahead. . . .
What a quirky post this has turned out to be, no? If you’ve followed my idiosyncratic musings all this way, I’ll be curious to read your comments. Not sure I’ve knit my random thoughts into a cohesive whole with all the snipping and unravelling and tying in of new threads, but let me know if anything resonates. Are you finding that Time is operating differently for you as we watch an invisible virus sweep its consequences across the globe? Can you imagine how you’d spend 45 days indoors, as so many Chinese children have already? Or even six, as has my daughter’s family in Rome? Would you eventually get to any mending? Or its metaphorical equivalents, whatever those might be? Let’s keep each other company these strange days. . .
xo,
f
That little decapitated toe would make a lovely doll's hat. I mean if we're going to be thinking of the past, and living ever so slightly back there. I remember I used some of my grandmother's yarn once to knit a pink rectangle, the only thing I could knit at the time. I wanted to make my Barbie a pink knitted miniskirt. I thought I could bend and mold it into shape when I was finished. But it was so thick and stiff it became a rug for her dream house instead.
Knitters will always be able to spend their time well, I think.
Glad that you are donating your unused opera ticket. My niece's husband works for the National Ballet of Canada in Toronto. He's been posting about doing just that on FB.
My husband, in our early years of marriage, wore thick wool socks to work outside in the winter. I remember darning a few of those, but haven't done any sock mending since then. There have been zippers replaced and buttons changed out, and tears mended, though. I'm not fond of mending at all, and have to be in a certain mood to get to it. The items languish in a pile until that mood strikes, once or twice a year. We have the luxury of not mending, unlike our grandparents, but we've lost something along the way. The rise of slow fashion is changing that, I hope. I admire anyone who can knit, especially socks. Not my forte at all.
With books and knitting (for me it's sewing), staying mostly home for a few weeks won't be a hardship, but oh I feel for those with small children.
As a knitter of socks, I appreciated your mending, and what a lovely "new" pair you've created. My mum taught my to darn socks, but I haven't done it for years, it was never a favourite occupation.
We've cancelled our trip to Italy, hoping we'll still get there later in the year.
Keep calm and knit or read will be my motto. Bon courage !
I remember my mother darning socks, she would put a lightbulb inside the sock to use as a form. It worked. I remember trying, sock not wearable, very lumpy. I still can not sew.
Staying close to home is fairly easy for us, so much to do in the garden on the less chilly days. Lots of hikes and walks, and realizing just how fortunate we are. The downside is we had made reservation for a few days in Vancouver, but cancelled. That’s an easy rebook though.
Stay well
Ali
First, you are not alone in your sock work, but part of a growing trend! nytimes.com/2020/03/12/style/visible-mending.html
Your friend will have a complicated move–when you are settling in, there are so many things you realize you need to buy, and if shops are closed….
The market yesterday was bustling as were the outdoor cafés. But I can tell things have changed, because there are no cars on the road. There was no traffic at the usually clogged roundabout near the supermarket. This is different from the usual shutdowns (strikes) where most people have to keep going about their lives while things like gas become scarce. Shortages and road blocks aren't the problem. It's more like every day has become Sunday (and in France, everything is closed on Sunday). And now the restaurants, cafés and shops have been ordered closed. The jazz concert we planned to attend last night was canceled. The uncertainty in the air reminds me of the days after Sept. 11. Not a period I wish to relive.
I don't wear wool socks but I mend everything worth mending
Stay well and safe!
Dottoressa
Looking for humor in these interesting times: one outcome of all the extra hand-washing is that my iphone, more often than not, does not recognize my shriveled fingerprint and won't open. Have to use the code.
Along with Slow Fashion I am loving the new move to Visible Mending, so the socks end up looking more like a patchwork quilt than a neatly-darned or reknit patch that is not noticeable. I watched a young woman in a café crochet a fuchsia patch on her blue sweater.
We have online resources now to "patch" our cancelled language classes, to connect with friends, but it is still such a change. We're making brief stops at small cafés (nearly empty in daytime), partly to keep them going, but avoid public transit.
I am grateful that some high-profile persons who have been ill because of the virus are open about it and have made a full recovery. That helps control the panic… I was aghast to receive an email from someone who advised me to "get my affairs in order".
A timely, entertaining post. My mother was a champion sock darner. My sewing kit always included a “darning egg” and I used it often but the results were not great and the sock never felt as comfortable. I’m enjoying reading the comments here to understand how this virus is affecting your followers all over the world. Let’s all pray for a healthier, safer and kinder world.
I read every word even though I'm not a knitter. I tried once but all I can manage to make is a sweater for a snake. What a treasure to have a pair of hand knitted socks!!
Sue: Oh, You have a beautiful child's imagination! (I think the best people do!) My grandkids will surely repurpose that snipped-off toe for something like that, as would I have once up on a time. As it is, I'm thinking that it might provide raw material (with more snipping to shape) for some patchwork I need to do on a few old sweaters.
Lorrie: You're so right. I haven't even had a mending basket for years, although I kept one, of course, when the kids were small, for their garments and mine and Paul's. I used to get to it weekly, wanting to get clothes back in circulation, but as we could afford a few more things, the need lessened. And now the landfills of the world are overwhelmed. . . Now it's our affluent ways we need to mend. . .
Jules: I don't love darning either, but I'm learning to tolerate it better by talking down some of the inner critic voices — I was 9 or 10 trying to do something tricky with my mom insisting on "the right way." These days, "good enough" will do. . . Our trip to Italy is becoming less likely every day, and as with you the bigger context makes that acceptable. . . .
Ali: Sorry your trip was cancelled, but yes, these are the days for being stuck in a garden! Especially if the temperature rises to low teens as it's supposed to next week. Enjoy!
Taste of France: Yes, I've posted before about the Visible Mending trend, especially after my daughter and I took a Sashiko class a few years ago. And I embroidered the front of an overly worn Bompard cashmere v-neck to give it new life as a favourite "sweatshirt." My recent post on Slow Fashion includes a link to Katrina Rodabaugh's Instagram feed (she wrote a gorgeous book Mending Matters).
I'm sure Carol is well aware of the challenges Covid-19 has added to her move. We're hardly cut off from the news here 😉 My daughter's family has been on strict (policed) lockdown in Italy for a week now and even before that schools had been cancelled. So we're not unaware despite being in North America.
Dottoressa: And because of how wisely you shop, it's all worth mending!
Mary: Ha! That is funny! Mine has never liked the least bit of moisture on my finger, so it probably won't appreciate the shrivel either 😉
Duchesse: We've been using online resources as well to make up for missed classes — of course, they don't quite, but still an option I appreciate.
I'm so impatient and annoyed with those who Share irresponsible links regarding the coronavirus on Social Media–and surprised to find such gullibility and lack of critical thinking among my acquaintances. Fear-mongering in the name of providing information? Not acceptable in my book!
Kathy: That is a very good prayer! Yes, it's interesting to have a forum like this. Of course, the members of this community enjoy considerable privilege in how we face the virus. I'm very anxious about how it's going to affect refugee camps — and, closer to home, those in homeless shelters, staff included. And as it begins to sweep through developing nations. . .
Sandra: Snake sweaters! You could get together with Sue Burpee, above, to dream up fabulous uses for knitting that's limited by skill but not by imagination 😉 (Sue's actually a very good knitter, I hasten to add, but has a lovely imagination)
I don’t have a large stash as I donate most of my excess yarn to the craft group at Goward House who make things to sell at the craft sale.
I admire knitters who make socks. I made one pair and the results were a disaster! Am knitting that lovely Doocot pattern with chartreuse green Rowans Felted tweed and think now that we are slowing down and staying home I will have time to focus on it…retirement has many distractions!
Take care and stay safe.
How clever you are, those mended socks look fabulous. Well I am currently travelling and I have got to say it is a very different experience. I was already in the air when everything in Europe really started changing. I am in Rotterdam and return to London tomorrow. I am lucky I can stay with a very dear friend for as long as I need to while assess the situation. Maryann
So much to ponder here between your post and the replies.
First, inspired by Frances, I have mended some favorite sweaters. I keep getting little holes where my belt buckle (or the corner of my pants by the button) hits. But I haven't tried socks. I used to donate socks for my students who wanted to make puppets. Unfortunately, knitting was never my thing. My mother was an incredible knitter. I have beautiful sweaters and a throw in an Irish pattern.
I had retired from teaching last spring but I volunteered to help the music teacher with sets, props, and acting for the past couple of weeks (I still have six swan hats to finish.) However, the reality is that although we only have four "presumed" cases of COVID-19 in Vermont, we probably will have to cancel the concert. We are continuing as usual to prevent anxiety among the students. But we are very concerned about our students who are food insecure. And there is the issue of those students who cannot participate in online/remote learning. So many of our families do not have access to the internet. But since I am no longer a part of the school system, I will not be included in any discussions about how to work around the issues. Oh, I have many ideas, but in this case I am a has-been and invisible.
My own children who work at a major university have been told to work from home. Our son hates to do that-he likes to keep a sharp boundary between home and work. He has unreliable internet as well and may visit us for a while to work from here. It will also give him an opportunity to help his dad who has just started the maple sugaring season. Our daughter, who occasionally worked from home at her previous job, has begun to set up her apartment for work. She goes in tomorrow for a short time to work with IT to make sure she has all the equipment and can access all the resources she needs.
Okay, I've written enough about me. I am concerned about those who have no family, no resources, no choice but to continue to do what they have been doing. (One of my daughter's college friends works in a homeless shelter. She reports that her bosses have done nothing to prepare the staff what proper protocols would be in this instance!) As my family has discussed at length, this is a moment in time that will be remembered for a long time-a seismic shift in society and the global community. I hope all in Frances's blog community, will stay well and be unaffected by the virus. Carol in VT
Daughter arrived safely back in the UK this morning from Boston – very glad to have her back on these shores. Both she and our son are likely to be working from home this week. The UK population seems to be taking action ahead of government instructions (although our new Brexit government is at the free will end of the spectrum and obviously tying itself in metaphysical knots at the prospect of not being able to let free market forces sort this out).
No knitting or sewing will be done here, but I have a large weedy garden reproaching me, so whenever it's dry enough I will be outside digging. I don't think I have anything that needs darning. Most of my socks are cotton, and darning never seems to 'take' on them. My husband's socks seem to last forever thankfully. Hilariously now, in the Chalet School series of books written between 1925 and 1970 have female characters who get married being much occupied by darning their husbands' socks. And of course giving up teaching careers because they needed to look after their husbands. Aaargh!
Husband and son just squeezed in a lovely Scottish Chamber Concert with Nicola Benedetti and Lawrence Power in Edinburgh, but sadly our Vivaldi at St Martins in the Fields in London looks doubtful, as does our London trip as a whole.
Test post
I did a test post & it seems I’m back & able to post ! I’m glad as it’s good to see this awful virus being discussed on your blog . It seems to be filling our lives , so should be discussed . Here in the UK we were told yesterday that over 70s will soon have to self isolate themselves for 4 months regardless of health or fitness . I think we could probably handle that – there’s plenty of decorating & gardening to do – but we’d have to sneak out to walk the dog . Anyway there seems to be some back-peddling today & if we have no symptoms we can meet family & friends & food shop but no large get togethers . We are in the wilds of Scotland at the moment & feel that we are already in ( happy )self isolation . I worry for my nieces who work in the health services & a little for my husband who is asthmatic but I feel quite pessimistic regarding our governments ability to handle this crisis . So we shall continue with the hand washing & temperature taking & avoid the crowds . Take care everyone.
Wendy in York
I do not feel like slowing down, quite the contrary. My university was shut down, we are asked to change to e-Learning (whatever that means in practice). So I am busy trying to understand the intricacies of our learning platform and changing questions, tasks ans assignments to the new format. I am lucky my son is here with me (his university shut down, too)and gladly rely on his expertise in online questions.
As for darning vs. knitting: in spite of having knit quite a lot of socks lately, personally I only onw one single pair of (heavily darned) socks. So I am allowing myself the luxury of knitting a second pair – so pretty!
Hostess: That sounds like a good destination for your excess yarn. Many knitters will have stashes that are not composed of leftover yarn, but rather that they buy when they fall in love with an artisan yarn made in smaller quantities — they might buy enough for a possible sweater but not have anything particular in mind and just Stash the yarn for that. Or they'll buy enough for four or five different projects (socks, scarves, sweaters, hats) when their yarn shop has a big sale. The Stash can be quite large. . . . entire closets have been filled 😉
Maryann: I'm glad you have a friend to stay with and can make it an adventure. I'm assuming you're American or Canadian and it may be a while before you can get a flight back. A friend's young daughter has just found herself stuck in Peru where borders have been locked down so flights impossible. Her mother back in Canada, of course, is very anxious. . .
Carol: I get those belt-buckle holes as well!
You make so many good points. The virus is beginning to move through more vulnerable developing nations. . . and through our own vulnerable homeless communities. Shelter workers as well as those who rely on their service. . . I think our own complaints and fears will pale in comparison, and I hope that in itself provokes some shifts in thinking. Very sympathetic to your son's and daughter's concerns. When I first heard of the shifts, mid-term, to online delivery of courses, I groaned aloud — So much work, and the Teaching and Learning support centres and IT people in all the institutions will be slammed with faculty requests, software collapses, etc. Good luck to them.
Linda: Must feel so much better having them with you, and you're in a good location for being able to isolate but still get outdoors for physical activity. Regret to say that from here it does seem as if your government's response has been an absolute shambles, quite divorced from any science. Glad to hear that people are taking it on themselves to do what's needed. But yes, this probably means No to St. Martin in the Fields . . . Vivaldi on Spotify won't be the same, but there will be music. . . 😉
Wendy: I'm euphoric (okay, slight hyperbole) at finding you here again. So pleased the system opened its doors.
I keep hearing of countries that are asking over-70s (in some places, over-65s, so I'd be included) to stay home, and while I understand the reasoning (based on the stats about the virus so far), it does seem stigmatizing and rather like placing too much of an onus on a population that is already vulnerable to loneliness — and perhaps also to poverty which might mean being confined in spaces that are tough to be stuck inside for four months. I'd love to know what support is being offered to make that command/request more palatable.
Eleonore: Well, you don't have to if you don't want to. . . . as long as you're a whirling dervish inside, socially distanced or isolated 😉
Seriously, I'm very sympathetic about the adjustment to e-learning. I've delivered a considerable portion of my course materials on various software platforms in the past, but then I've had time to prepare and generally been able to consult with the support people on campus when I bumped into problems. Good that you've got your son there to help out.
One pair of socks is not quite enough — enjoy the luxury of knitting that second pair!
What lovely socks and what a skilled repair. I confess that I do not darn my hand knit socks but I have been known to gather a few forlorn remnants with a bid to doing something artsy-crafty with the resulting felted fabric. Then finding the stash in a cupboard and chucking the lot out in a bid to streamline.
There is much change ahead for us all and I am finding the uncertainty frightening. This morning we saw the first signs of the UK NHS triage system in operation when my post chemo mother (85) attempted to go to the hospital oncology dept for a blood test (as instructed this time last week). Firmly told to revert to the non specialist GP from here on.
It will be a difficult time ahead for us all wherever we are in the world. Thank you for creating this welcoming platform for us to meet and virtually wave good wishes to each other.
It’s amazing how much has changed in a short time. On my birthday towards the end of January I enjoyed a delightful lunch with my family at a seaside restaurant on a gorgeous Sydney summer’s day. The bushfires were abating along with the horrendous smoke-filled days. Since then, we’ve had so much rain over a very few days that the fires are out and the water stored in our dams has doubled. In the blink of an eye, some people went from being affected by drought and bushfire to being flooded. In another blink, as a retired person, I’ve gone from being able to enjoy cultural, social and recreational activities at my discretion to a situation where theatres and music venues have closed, a weekly women’s group I belong to (where visitors such as authors and experts on climate change and refugees and representatives of charities came to speak) has stopped meeting, as have my yoga class and book group. Our main art gallery remains open but has ceased hosting events like lectures and sadly, our city’s annual writers’ festival has been cancelled. Supermarkets are rationing purchases of some items to stem panic buying. And people in my age group have been advised to curtail unnecessary outings and stay home. To say that life has changed markedly is an understatement. My heart goes out to those here and everywhere who have lost or will soon lose their jobs, those caring for children and disabled or elderly family members, people living alone, the homeless and to all the healthcare workers whose jobs are becoming increasingly difficult. It is a time to stay home as much as possible, regroup, take stock, read, cook, exercise and count our blessings. And it’s a time to mend socks along with hearts, minds and spirits.
Well Frances , I’d love to know what support is being offered too ! At the moment there’s much floundering going on . Apparently we are still allowed to walk the dog – but not both of us , only one ! All may be different tomorrow.
Wendy in York
PS Thanks for the nice welcome back -what hyperbole ?
Jumping in late here! We've had painters for the last 10 days, and the house, and our lives are in somewhat of a mess, even without the rapidly changing world due to COVID-19.
I was supposed to fly to Lisbon on 3/23 to take care of some pre-move business, but I've cancelled that, needless to say. While the pandemic has added an element of uncertainty to our plans, it hasn't derailed them. We're moving ahead with the things that we can do: painting the house, divesting ourselves of possessions, discovering all the things that have been squirreled away in corners and boxes over the 27 years since our last move. 🙂
Frances, your sock fix is brilliant. I'm still a newbie knitter, and while the disorganization of the past week has left me with little inclination to knit, I imagine that once the house is put back together I'll get back to work on my Color Affection shawl.
I haven't yet had the nerve to snip the top of a sock – but I'm getting to the point where some of mine have been darned so many times, that it's the only alternative. There's something so ancient about darning a sock – I feel as if I'm undertaking an activity of the ages! – but it's so hard to get into the mood. I suppose I may have more time in the near future…
I've been thinking of you and your daughter's family and your trip to Italy. I'm so sorry that you will not have the fun experience you were awaiting, but I'm glad that your people are well and managing. I sense we're all about to have an opportunity to experience the make do and mend lifestyle that I have been so fascinated by for as long as I can remember. And while it's hard to imagine how people have gone through times of social isolation (of the years long variety), we will see – I do believe – how adaptable society is.
Oh, I’ve been absent from the online world, and now pulled even further away in the actual world. How I love your snipped toe and newly recreated sock. I am so wrapped up in this current slowness that I can’t even manage to plow through the comments, but I will, in time. Glad you are well, and thoughtful as usual. It seems to me that in such a few short generations we have taken so much for granted; despite the turmoil, unrest and any repercussions, that perhaps a bit of pulling inward, toward house and home and connection will do us good. Perhaps use wishful thinking, or I am indeed temperamentally going off on a tangent.