Finished.

Finished.

and … it’s finished. I can move on.
Hard to believe, after a month of ripping back and cursing and spit-joining yarn ends in public places
(many, many public places). It’s been a long December. But it’s finished.
I washed it (in the washer)
and hung it out to dry

in between snowfalls

on the coldest, windiest day of the year.

Nevertheless
it dried beautifully
and came inside to be seamed — up the center
(I like that bit especially; it’s like fishy backbones)

and set out, looking like something from a century ago

to soak up whatever tiny bit of sun might filter through clouds
and be admired.

Happy New Year’s, all.

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