Gladys Taber

by Andrea on 5 November, 2014

Just now a large skein of geese flew over my house, heading south. I should mention they were very loud geese—louder than usual. This clarion call not only got my attention, it reminded me of Gladys Taber and one of my favorite quotes of hers:

In the village store someone says,”I heard the geese go over,” and there is a moment of silence. Why this is so moving, I do not know. But all of us feel it.

Although I’ve always lived in Connecticut, I didn’t discover Gladys Taber’s books and writing until over twenty-five years ago when I first moved to this town; a town right next to the one Ms. Taber lived in. I’ve shopped at that village store, still do. I was tickled to read my post office is the one she’d drive over to, to use. I went on the hunt for Stillmeadow to see her house. I read every book of hers I could find. And I fell in love with her gentle, sweet, and yes, moving way. Living here and the connection to the place she wrote about feels very special.

Today I did something I should have done years ago—I became a member of Friends of Gladys Taber. What spurred me on was my current reading marathon of Susan Branch’s books, and her incredible blog. And her love of Gladys Taber. But what got me to the post office—that same one Gladys used—was those geese.

Clarion, indeed…


Before You Know It…

by Andrea on 17 August, 2014

Autumn is around the corner. The leaves here in Connecticut have become a dull, faded green with slips of yellow and orange here and there trying to burst. It’s still too early, but fall is coming. The nights are cool. The Sharon of Roses bloomed early. And squirrels are whizzing around with nuts to hide for winter. So what does autumn mean? Knitting, for one.

Design: Oregon Cowl by Alice Starmore

Design: Oregon Cowl by Alice Starmore

This wool cowl should be good and warm come December, don’t you think?

The Power of Knitting. The Power of Knitters.

July 24, 2014

On July 21st, someone traveling through Will Rogers Airport in Oklahoma City lost a sock. A hand knit sock. And one person—a knitter—found it. Now this may seem like a yawn of a story to non-knitters, but knowing the significance of hand knit socks, this traveller took it to security and then  to Lost and […]

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May 2, 2014

Our spring here in Connecticut has been mud-luscious lately, not unlike e.e. cummings’ spring in his poem [in Just-]. My response to most things is to knit, and today was no different. With the sun out for the first time in days, I went stash diving in my yarn bins and found this… …then began […]

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