Snow, sweaters, sadness

We received a nice, fluffy snowfall in the night, about 5" or so. It's finally beginning to look like a Maine winter. I hope we get more snow before long so Ken and I can get out on our snowshoes and cross-country skis. This winter has been disappointing up 'til now, with balmy temperatures here and there, interspersed with frigid temperatures, plus rain but little snow. If we're going to have winter, I want a real winter. Many folks in Maine depend upon winter snow to make their livelihood.

I took this photo early this morning, just as the sun was starting to rise. Molly and I were out for her "first wizz of the day," as we call it.

 I finished the Mondo Cable Pulli, which I'd been working on since some time in November. I don't know why I found this project so long and tedious. I'd knit this same pattern a couple of years ago and enjoyed it.

Well, the pulloever's done now, and I'm enjoying wearing it. It's knit of 100% wool from Briggs & Little yarns in Harvery Station, NB. There's nothing like a warm wool sweater on a cold winter day, I swear. For me, there's nothing like knowing the yarn came from New Brunswick, my parents' birthplace. Now I'm knitting a Tea Leaves cardigan, which I've put in my header photo.

Nest Maine is an organization that collects and distributes handknit hats, mittens, sweaters, etc., to the homeless in the Portland area. I'm sending these two contributions off to them as soon as I get to the post office. There's another organization that distributes handknit woolens to the needy in Central Maine. It's called Hearts for Warmth. My next contribution will go to them, since central Maine is where I'm from.

The other day I scanned the photo of our Italy/Greece tour group at the Roman Colosseum, so I thought I'd toss that in here for the fun of it. I swear there are 2-3 folks standing who weren't actually in our group but joined in with us just as the photo was being taken!

And finally, the sadness. I was shocked to read yesterday's obituaries in our local paper and see the name of a student from my second year of teaching. He wasn't just any student, he was an unusually energetic, inquisitive, outgoing, bright, friendly  young man who was truly an asset to my classroom. If you had asked me to name students I still remembered from that class way back in 1969-70, his name would undoubtedly have been the first one to come to mind. It's sad to think he's gone, but what is even sadder is my fear that he committed suicide. I hope I'm wrong about this, but the fact that his obituary states that he "died suddenly," and the condolences left on his guest book, which mention that he is "hopefully at peace now," etc., make me fear I could be right. As I said, I hope I'm wrong.