Comments on: The Iceman Groucheth

By: Aing

Aing — Sat, 16 Mar 2013 14:44:00 +0000

I live in Wisconsin. For the first time ever, I was able to join the cuckoo chorus! Big fat flakes floating down, inches of snow accumulating on the ground around the barn, milk house and outhouse (all restored for modern day storage, haha!), no school bus to stand at the end of the driveway for, no errands to run. Knitting by the fire yields lower blood pressure, slower pulse, more completed entries for the county fair this summer. LOOOOOOOVE it!!!

By: Elizabeth

Elizabeth — Fri, 15 Mar 2013 13:31:00 +0000

AMEN Brother!!!!!!!!!

By: L.

L. — Thu, 14 Mar 2013 23:57:00 +0000

Well, if you live on a hilltop in Vermont, it’s more like a mountain top, and you’d probably be swept away by the winds before long. I used to live on a Vermont hillSIDE, and Chicago had the advantage in that you lack dirt roads requiring four-wheel-drive when the thaw hits in spring (we call it “mud season”… it’s about as charming as the name implies). Now I live in a more suburban area of the same fine state, but I’m right with you as far as your description of the eye-stabbing winds, need for milk, etc. In other words, I agree that those cozy winter knitters must be independently wealthy, retired, or have very tolerant significant others, and I too am REALLY looking forward to spring. In the meantime… onward! Persevere on! The tropical days will come. I look forward to your cabana photos.

By: Jacuzzi63

Jacuzzi63 — Wed, 13 Mar 2013 13:42:00 +0000

Oh, Franklin, that one was priceless… gave me a good laugh with the butterfly chest hair ornaments! but you really need to experience winter knitting on the Canadian prairies, in Winnipeg, where sister knitters and I gather around the fireplace…cozying up to the fire, hot chocolates in hand, warming fingers and toes from -30C temperatures… at our nearest Starbucks!

By: St. Constantine | "That's a dancer's leg, Margaret!"

St. Constantine | "That's a dancer's leg, Margaret!" — Mon, 11 Mar 2013 18:44:53 +0000

[...] What spring chickens do with worms. [...]

By: Nancy Shomo

Nancy Shomo — Mon, 11 Mar 2013 17:41:00 +0000

Franklin, you are awesome! I have just been introduced to you writing and I love it. I laughed and laughed. I am guilty of knitting in front of the fireplace on a rainy winter’s night(which we don’t get many of in So. California) but only after working a full day, and coming home to do the every night chores, then put the cats to bed(so they leave the yarn alone) . I usually get two or three rows done before I find I fell asleep mid row and woke up in time to go to bed.Keep those needles clicking!

By: Morgan

Morgan — Mon, 11 Mar 2013 13:48:00 +0000

I don’t even knit, Franklin, but I love reading your column. It’s the best part of my Monday mornings.

By: chemgrrl

chemgrrl — Sun, 10 Mar 2013 19:11:00 +0000

To me, staying inside when it’s snowing isn’t cozy. it makes me feel rather desperate and restless–in short, it gives me cabin fever. I do knit at these times, but it’s with an eye on the weather. As soon as it clears and I’m able to go places, I happily abandon my knitting ( for a while).
Like you, I’m happy to see that spring is on its way. And I knit whatever the season–I get more done from spring to fall than I do in winter.

By: WisconsinKnitter

WisconsinKnitter — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 23:22:00 +0000

I recently quit my job after having worked 42 years and currently live in a rural area in Southern Wisconsin 4 miles from town. I’ve dreamed about knitting in front of my fireplace on snowy days for years and years and now that I’m “retired” so to speak, this past winter I got to do just that. Let me try and explain. You’re sitting in front of your roaring fireplace wearing those woolen socks that you knitted for yourself as a Christmas gift a few months ago just for this purpose. You glance out of your picture window and see big, fluffy snowflakes covering the farmer’s field across the road of which corn was harvested 4 or 5 months ago. You alternate getting a jumpstart on that cabled sweater for your brother who’s 11 months older using the cashmere yarn you got on sale and watching the snow crystals slowly cause your driveway and road to disappear. It is so relaxing that you feel your blood pressure drop 40 points. The feeling of inexplicable calmness and joyfulness is overwhelming that you rejoice that this time is truly your own. You’ve earned it and are making the most of it — and THERE IS NOTHING LIKE IT IN THE WORLD – this peacefulness and calmness one experiences while knitting. That’s why we shout on the rooftops our cuckoo chorus.

By: Shelda

Shelda — Sat, 09 Mar 2013 22:56:00 +0000

I’m laughing (sort of) about icicles stabbing one in the face. And many other things. As always, Franklin, you’re a pure delight. Fireplace or no.