Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EST December 9th 2024

Thank you to everyone who joined us for this session!

For this session we read an excerpt from Held ” by Anne Michaels, posted below.

Our prompt was: Write about a pair of socks.

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Friday December 20th at 12pm EST, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions.

Held by Anne Michaels pg. 11-12

The black lines of the trees reminded him of a winter field he'd once seen from the window of a train. And the black sea of evening, and the deep black bonnet and apron of his grandmother climbing up from the harbour, knitting all the while, leading their ancient donkey burdened with heavy baskets of crab. All the women in the village wore their tippie and carried their knitting easy to hand, under their arm or in their apron pocket, sleeves and sweater- fronts, filigree work, growing steadily over the course of the day. Each village with its own stitch; you could name a sailor’s home port by the pattern of his gansey, which contained a further signature - a deliberate error by which each knitter could identify her work. Was an error deliberately made still an error?

Coastal Knitters cast their stitches like a protective spell to keep their men safe and warm and dry, the oil in the wool repelling the rain and sea spray, armour passed down, father to son. They knitted shorter sleeves that did not need to be pushed out of the way of work. Dense worsted, faded by the salt wind. The ridge and furrow stitch, like the fields in March when they put in the potatoes. The moss stitch, the rope stitch, the honeycomb, the triple sea wave, the anchor; the hailstone stitch, the lightning, diamonds, ladders, chains, cables, squares, fishnets, arrows, flags, rigging. The Noordwijk bramble stitch. The black-and-white socks of Terschelling (two white threads, a single black). The Goedereede zigzag. The tree of life. The eye of God over the wearer’s heart.

Credit: Anne Michaels

9 thoughts on “Live Virtual Group Session: 6PM EST December 9th 2024

  1. michele348's avatar michele348

    About a pair of socks~~~

    Worn and threadbare,
    these faded blue socks
    have been with me through the years.

    Through the carefree years of youth,
    when there were no worries or concerns,
    just squeezing the most of each moment
    without the what-ifs to get in the way.

    Through adulthood, when the burdens of life
    began to seep into my heart and mind,
    and the consequences of my decisions
    came into full view.

    Through the sorrows of loss in later life,
    when I buried my parents and brother,
    these socks remained a comfort.
    Their presence offered a sense of belonging and love…
    a tangible reminder of the connections that bind us
    in this inexplicable journey of life.

    I hope that my old friends,
    these well-worn and treasured socks,
    will rest on my coffin,
    when I say my final goodbye.

    Like

  2. Elizabeth's avatar Elizabeth

    A Rock-em Sock-em Poem

    I call them my comfy cosies.

    They are snuggly and warm my toesies.

    They’re brown and yellow of mustard tones,

    They heat me way down to my bones.

    Think wicked witch stripes around

    and Dr. Seuss characters feet abound.

    No glamour here, just solid construction,

    They make for warmth and good conduction.

    So I’ll keep them for a very long time

    (Funny how they make me want to rhyme!)

    Liked by 1 person

    • michele348's avatar michele348

      Elizabeth, you made me smile! Your socks remind me of several of mine, they keep my feet warm but certainly won’t win any fashion awards!

      Like

  3. al3793's avatar al3793

    A Pair of Socks
    I wonder if a pair of socks knows how important they are.
    Do they know how not to roll up under your foot?
    Do they know that the way they caress the foot can soothe wounds if they don’t wrinkle.
    Do they know that we don’t darn socks anymore and a hole will certainly invite a final trip to the garbage?
    Do they know that an attentive ear can recognize the cottony steps of a toddler’s first step and
    the shuffling step of an elder unlearning how to walk?
    Socks can make a difference in the step and in what is heard.
    Do socks promise they won’t tell of the lovers’ liaison
    or an executive’s shady trade deal.
    They get pretty dirty and sometimes they get wet and let in the cold.
    But it all comes out in the wash.

    Like

    • michele348's avatar michele348

      Wow, it sounds like I should volunteer to be a consultant for these socks… that’s a lot of responsibility for these “helpless’ socks to have to deal with!

      Loved the humor and definitely the wisdom…”Do they know that an attentive ear can recognize the cottony steps of a toddler’s first step and
      the shuffling step of an elder unlearning how to walk?”

      Hopefully, as readers, we all have gained a new respect for the lowly socks, even if they do get a little smelly occasionally!

      Like

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