today's project

on wednesday i was running errands (i visited a library branch on 23rd street to pick up a book to take when we travel soon to florida to see greg's mom) and i stopped by the union square petco store for a few more cans of cat food. it was then that i realized i was near the green market where korrina had just bought a huge bunch of goldenrod. when we were visiting vermont at the beginning of september, i kept exclaiming at all the goldenrod everywhere one turned! fields and fields of goldenrod! i didn't bring any back with me as in order to dye with it, it's best to work with it fresh and i wasn't going to be able to do that as we were stopping in lenox, massachusetts for several nights. however, on wednesday i picked out a large bunch to bring home. i shook the branches out in the courtyard and snipped off the flowers and a few inches of the stems. once upstairs and in the pot, i brought the temperature up to 180/200 fahrenheit and let it sit there for an hour. then i let it cool till the next morning so that i could easily strain it and have it free of debris for the yarn i wanted to dye (which was already mordanted).

(flowers and stems were composted)

i first wet the skeins before putting them in the dye bath . . and then followed a similar time pattern. i brought the temperature up to 180/200 and let it sit for an hour, and then it cooled overnight.

after a few cool rinses in the sink, i hung the yarn up to dry. i can't wait to see how it looks in the daylight.

autumn afternoon

at 2:19 pm the sun was over the equator and northern and southern hemispheres received the same amount of light. i spent the first afternoon of autumn at union square admiring peppers and eggplants and the quiet busyness of a monday market.

i have cauliflower and rosemary for soup (a recipe shared by my neighbor) and plenty of prune plums for a plum cake . . 

and plenty of apples (and a nectarine) . .

september's fruits grow good to see

on pear and plum and apple tree.

 

(from the crowning of the year, by juliet compton-burnett)

sunday morning poem

while everything else was falling apart

in the union square subway station nearly fifteen

years ago now, the L train came clanking by

where someone had fat-sharpied a black heart

on the yellow pillar you leaned on during a bleak day

(brittle and no notes from anyone you crushed upon).

above ground, the spring sun was the saddest one

(doing work, but also none). what were you wearing?

something hopeful to show the world you hoped?

a tall man was learning from a vendor how to pronounce

churro. high in the sticky clouds of time, he kept

repeating churro while eating a churro. how to say

this made you want to live? no hand to hold

still here it was: someone giving someone comfort

and someone memorizing hard how to ask for it again.

by ada limon (born 1976)

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chanda was out with friends when she sent a spotify link to the family whatsapp chat to remind us what day it was.

(tomorrow will be the autumnal equinox at 2:19 pm.)