Knit Sisters

I strongly believe that we do have to do something radical about our energy consumption in this country. Strongly. Believe.

I also strongly believe that I should have more done on this elephant sweater than I do, but…

I would however be the first to admit that this is easier said than done. After all, we’re not just talking about changing people’s habits, which would be hard enough, we are also talking about an entrenched infrastructure and set of broader social habits that rests on the assumption that more or less every American has access to a car.

So it isn’t just that we’ve got these gas guzzlers on the road, it’s that there is massive technological momentum (as we call it in the science studies biz) behind the automobile. And technological momentum is extremely hard to reverse.

As an individual, you cannot reverse it. You cannot. There is literally no way to live in most parts of this country without a car. It can’t be done. So at the moment driving a car everywhere doesn’t mean that you’re part of the problem, it means that you’re part of an inescapable system.

Now I’m singling out the automobile here not because there aren’t other environmental issues, but I think from the standpoint of the individual the car is, well, the thing. What I mean is, the car drives (no pun intended…heh…heh) a great deal of the rest of our overconsumption. And that drives a lot of industrial pollution and energy consumption and so forth.

Alex and I happen to live in one of the handful of places in the country where one can be “car-free,” and we happen to be in a phase of our lives where there ain’t a lot of loose cash floating around, if you know what I’m saying, so we don’t own a car.

Although I did make this lovely ribbing. I love the way the colors look together. And also the odd way that the ripples in the fabric look a little like…Voldemort’s face. Or maybe that’s just me.

When you don’t own a car, you think very carefully about what you buy. Because you and you alone are going to get to haul it back to Chez Mad Dog on the city bus. I hasten to add that this condition does not make us morally superior to anyone else.

It just means we’re strapped.

But it has led me to reflect upon the fact that there’s just a lot of stuff you can’t buy if you don’t have a car. A lot of stores you cannot frequent—including nearly all those horrific superstores like Home Depot, Costco, IKEA, etc. A lot of large stuff you cannot haul home and hoard. Interestingly, when people learn that we do not own a car, they frequently express shock and say something like, “Oh my God, how do you do it?”

Rather like they have just learned that both of us have recently lost an arm and a leg in a tragic accident and are now stumbling about on crude, newly-acquired prostheses.

It really is not anywhere near that bad. But it is a comment on the perception that having your own ride is just downright compulsory. Even in the rare instances where it is not.

Which leads me back to the problem of said automobile. Among other things, we’re going to have to deal with the car and everything that radiates outwards and backwards and forwards from the car, and that’s going to be a tough, tough thing to do. Not impossible, but very difficult. It will have to be a systematic fix too, not a matter of a few individuals here and there deciding and being able to ride bikes or take the bus.

I’m all for the bikes and the bus, by the way, but I’m speaking here of a society-wide solution that works, one that modifies the central technology we’ve got, works with the existing infrastructure, and acknowledges people’s real needs. I myself do not have a feasible plan right now, of course, but I’m working on that… I am taking suggestions. Feel free to share your ideas.

Meanwhile, we’ll all continue our nickel-and-dime environmentalism—recycling bottles, cans, jars, mixed paper; buying green cleaning products; driving a Prius. It’s not going to be the thing that solves the problem, but at least we can feel that we’re doing something.

Want to talk about overconsumption? Look what I just bought. Cherry Tree Hill Gems Merino. And this when I was actually on a successful yarn diet…

Alex and I have recently added to our nickel-and-dime environmentalism portfolio a new washer and dryer made by Asko, a Swedish company that stresses the environmentally-friendly, energy-efficient, water-saving aspects of its machines. Our landlady brought us these over the weekend, bless her heart.

Asko. As in, “Asko not what your washer can do for you, Asko what you can do for your washer!”

Because—and I don’t mean for a minute to sound ungrateful here—the Asko washer and dryer is not like your old Whirlpool. Here’s the front of the washer:

And a close-up of the “dashboard” of the dryer:

Simple in its way, yes, but would you know how to run a load of laundry without reading the manual? Yeah. That’s what I’m saying.

So a couple of nights ago, I decide to run my first load of environmentally-friendly laundry. I read the manual for the washer. I screw up the programming a couple of times. I curse and stomp. I finally program it to run a “normal” load of dark clothes. All is well, I think.

Then I read the digital timer at the right of the display. It reads, “One hour and fifty-five minutes.”

Yep, you got that right: two hours to run a “normal” load of clothes. Green is apparently a synonym for “excruciatingly slow.”

Okay, I think, next time I’ll try the “quick” cycle. It will probably only be an hour and a half.

I dutifully come back two hours later. I read the manual for the non-intuitive dryer. I screw up the programming a couple of times. I curse loudly and impugn the name of the Swedes and their mothers and grandmothers. I cry out in anguish, “Whirlpool, why hast thou forsaken me?” Then I finally manage to program it for a “normal” drying cycle.

This time I’m less surprised when the digital timer reads one hour and twenty minutes.

I am however weeping with frustration and otherwise going to pieces quietly in the corner of the basement.

When I informed Alex that a “green” load of laundry takes three hours and twenty minutes to complete, he said, “I see it all now. The Asko machines are more energy efficient because you quickly figure out that it is faster to do all your laundry with a washboard and a mangle.”

And so it appears that in appliances as in other arenas we have a long way to go to make our ideals match up with our practical needs.

Until then, I’d hang onto your old Whirlpool.

1.  Congratulations Kristy!  I think you will really enjoy that cone of pink yarn.  It softens tremendously when washed and has a wonderful drape, in addition to being really warm.  I think I can safely say that it was perfect for the Handsome Triangle shawl, and I’m really looking forward to seeing what you do with it!  Also, there’s so much yardage there that you should be able to do almost anything you want with it.  (Well, aside from making a whole-house cozy, I suppose.)

2.  I finally finished this little hemp dishcloth, which has been sitting in a basket for some weeks now. 

                                            

In this case, “finishing” simply meant weaving in the two ends.  Sometimes I am so lazy that I astound even myself.

3.  I started swatching with the Schaeffer Anne on size 0 needles.  Here’s my little tube: 

                                                                 

I’m getting 10 stitches to the inch on size 0 needles.  A entire pair of socks at 10 stitches to the inch somewhat boggles the mind (at least mine), especially as I was considering using this yarn to make a pair of socks for a friend with very wide feet, but I am determined to persevere.

4.  I finished one of the socks for my soldier buddy.

The reason I don’t make toe-up socks very often?  You’re left with the dilemma of trying to find a nice stretchy bindoff at the top that doesn’t look sloppy.  I finally settled on the sewn bindoff for these.

5.  Someday soon I am going to get back to Rumpelstiltskin.  He is languishing for want of attention. 

6.  One of my goals for the week?  Clean up my little knitting corner of the couch.  It is a veritable welter of swatches, socks, books, and circular needles.  Housekeeping is really not my strong suit, although I have many other wonderful attributes, as I’m sure you will all agree.  (Right?)

7.  Harvey refused to be photographed for this post, although he allowed me to take a picture of him with his comic book (sorry, graphic novel) in front of his face.

 

This really is very close to how he has appeared all summer, though–with his nose in a book.  That’s my boy!

1, 2:  Eyes on you.

Back on our blogiversary, we announced a “Guess the Guests” contest, the winner of which would receive the Amazing Pink Cone of Wonder (a.k.a. 2000+ yards of a cashmere-wool blend laceweight yarn in hot pink):

Sarah made her Handsome Triangle out of this stuff and it is…otherworldly. As its earthly curator, I have kept this cone wrapped, so its full wonder is not quite apparent in this photo.

I would have announced the winner much earlier, but I was extremely busy partying, attaching eight-point bustles, learning how to run recalcitrant new appliances (more on that later), kicking Craphound to the curb, and mastering a foolproof recipe for our preferred “adult beverage” of the summer—the fresh whiskey sour.

What? Why, yes, I will share my newfound wisdom. After all, even if you don’t have a landlord like Craphound, you undoubtedly have some insufferable peckerwood in your life who makes your day seem long and your need for a whiskey sour very great.

Here’s what you do to make about four cocktails:
Combine 1/2 cup freshly squeezed lemon juice;
1/2 cup freshly squeezed lime juice;
1 cup of simple syrup (made by combining 1 cup sugar and 1 cup water and heating over low to medium heat until the sugar dissolves);
3/4 cup Jack Daniels.

Fill a cocktail shaker with ice and pour this combo of ingredients over the ice. Shake vigorously for about half a minute. Strain the shaken cocktail into a cool glass and add a maraschino cherry (or four).

Now that everyone has a drink, we do in fact have a winner. Naturally, there must be a drum roll (what else?)…and the winner of the Amazing Pink Cone of Wonder is…

Kristy!

Get in touch, will ya, Kristy? And I’ll send you your prize.

The other yarn shop I visited while in California last month was a great little place in Napa called Yarns on First.  (Let me just admit right here, because I am a big person who is not afraid of looking stupid in public, that I had no idea that Napa is actually the name of a town in California as well as a whole valley.  Who knew?  Obviously, not me.  I realize that this probably falls into the same category as not realizing that New York is a city as well as a state, but there it is.)

In any case, Yarns on First is a very nice place, where they have their yarns arranged by color instead of brand.

This makes for a very pretty store, although you do have to look a little harder and ask more questions to find the yarns you want.

Fortunately, the folks there are extremely friendly and helpful.  Here’s Roxanna, one of the co-owners who helped me find (what else?) some lovely sock yarn to purchase.

 

I got this beautiful merino from Claudia Hand Painted Yarns, in a colorway named “John B.”

                                                                        You can see the huge selection of colorways of this yarn there in the stacked baskets.  I had a hard time making up my mind, I’ll tell you.

And a wool/mohair blend from Schaefer Yarns called “Anne.”

                                             Snuggling up next to the Claudia Hand Paint. 

I’m really excited about this yarn, because of the mohair content, naturally.  (You all know about my love affair with mohair, right?)  Of course, the Mountain Colors yarn that I bought at Stash has some mohair content, as well, so that’s exciting too.  (You have to find these little things every day to keep you going, you know?)

Yarns on First, 1305 First Street, Napa, CA 94559 707-257-1363

While in California, I (naturellement) visited the available yarn shops.  My first LYS stop was Stash, in Berkeley, which I visited while Ellen was getting her hair done and her veil superglued attached to her head at the salon.

It’s a very cool little shop, full of many temptations for the yarn-a-holic.  The lighting is nice, the floors are wood, and the people are friendly.

Here’s Barb and Rebecca, who of course got the full story of the wedding and a free mini-tour of the blog, and acted pleased and gracious about it!  Now that’s class! 

They had this lovely intarsia sweater hanging from one of the shelves, and I just couldn’t resist taking a picture of it, although I myself won’t touch intarsia with a ten-foot pole.  But I am well able to admire the proper execution of it by others.  And the inside of this sweater was as beautifully finished as the outside.

 

I decided that I would only buy sock yarn from the yarn shops I visited while in California, and my first purchase of such (from Stash, naturally) was this Mountain Colors Bearfoot.

These ladies were so nice–they let me pull out all the colorways and poke around in them to my heart’s content.  I finally settled on this dark purple solid and a handpaint colorway called “Eureka.”  I have in mind to work one of the tessellated or mosaic patterns from Charlene Schurch’s sock books with these two skeins.

See, it’s OK to buy more sock yarn while on vacation (no matter how much you have at home) because it only takes two skeins, at most, and you can always squeeze a couple more small skeins of sock yarn into your luggage.  Also, it provides you with a memento of your trip that keeps on giving–both while you knit them and when you wear them.  When they put Ellen and me in the home in adjoining rooms, I’ll still be able to look at my Mountain Colors socks and remember my trip to California and her lovely wedding. 

Sarah:  “Oh, I remember when I bought this yarn!  It was when we all went to California for your wedding!  Now, was Mother still alive back then?  I don’t think so.”

Ellen:  “Oh, she was too, Sarah!  Don’t you remember that jacket she had on with the rhinestone roses?”

Sarah:  “I don’t remember any such jacket.  You’re making that up!”

Ellen:  “I am not!  Why, she told me that you went with her when she bought that jacket!  In fact, you were the one you wanted her to buy it, she said.”

Sarah:  “Well, I don’t remember that.  I think you’re lying.  You always did stretch the truth.”

Ellen:  “I’ve never told a lie in my life!  And besides, you know that Mother lived for thirty years after my wedding.  I don’t know why you’d even think she wasn’t there that day.  You just can’t remember anything any more.”

You see what we have to look forward to?  Our golden years.

Stash, 1820 Solano Ave., Suite B-2, Berkeley, CA 94707 510-558-9276

I’m a tad pressed, so I haven’t been able to respond to all the comments the way that I usually try and like to do, but I would like to thank everyone who wrote something encouraging on Tuesday’s post. Your thoughts and kind words were very helpful.

So was the fact that some of Alex’s family members sent us a Cuisinart countertop wine cellar, something I’ve always secretly desired, but would never have bought for myself.

Suddenly, the wedding is starting to look a lot more worthwhile to me!

I’ve also been attempting to employ various stress management techniques like, for instance, knitting:

The Laines du Nord Mulberry Silk is absolutely gorgeous, although I will admit that for the moment the scarf looks a bit dull…but just you wait! There are ruffles that go on the ends and those are going to be very, very exciting. I promise. (Seriously, the pattern is really, really cool. You just can’t tell it right now. Stay tuned.)

This is also my first experience with the new Addi Turbo Lace Needles, shown here in a U.S. Size 5. Thumbs up! Nice, sharp points, light needle, smooth join…what’s not to like?

I’m also extremely excited about the first shipment of Tofutsies (featured in the most recent IK, by the way) in a “limited edition” colorway:

At Woolcott, we have formed a special Tofutsies Sock Club (limited to twenty people) and each of us will now automatically get our Tofutsies fix every two months for the next year. Normally, of course, I wouldn’t want to be part of any club that would have someone like me as a member, but I made an exception in this case.

My plan is to knit this up on a pair of U.S. Size 1 Addi Turbo Lace Needles, pursuant to their claim to be “good for socks.” We’ll just see about that, won’t we? The yarn itself is and interesting blend: 50% superwash wool, 25% soysilk fibers, 22.5% cotton, and 2.5% chitin. The latter is a fiber derived from shrimp and crab shells and is, according to the marketing folk, “naturally antibacterial.” To my knowledge, there is no actual tofu in the Tofutsies—since soysilk fiber is a bit different, I believe, than coagulated soy milk.

The presence of the chitin, however, led to a great many questions about whether or not these socks would be safe for people with dietary allergies to shrimp and shellfish.

As we know, there are no stupid questions. However, if there were, that would be one.

Beyond knitting, I have also been spending an inordinate amount of time at the gym—the idea being that it is better to heave iron barbells around for a couple of hours than it is to A) guzzle half a bottle of Southern Comfort and shoot up the neighborhood; B) cash in all your retirement savings at a loss, buy an old Cadillac Seville, and run away from home with your dog; or C) burn your wedding gown and veil in the street while screaming, “I am living in the fifth ring of gender-role hell, people! Gender-role hell!”

And finally, I am reading Bringing Down the House, the story of the M.I.T. blackjack team, card counters who made millions off the casinos in Las Vegas. That is, until they were shut down by what the back cover refers to as “violent heavies.” Although it is very poorly written—almost painfully so—the tale is nonetheless highly diversionary. I was attracted to the book by my recent trip to Vegas, but also because I rather liked the idea that people could be employed full time as “violent heavies.”

I wish I had known this when I was a college counselor. It might have provided a viable alternative to college for some of our less scholarly students. One boy in particular I’m thinking of…he would have made a great “violent heavy.”

I think he now trades bonds on Wall Street instead.

Figures.

To say that I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed and in kind of a bad mood is the same kind of understatement that would be involved in saying that Mount Everest is a gently rolling hill.

But seeing as that’s not really your problem and that you probably came to the blog to be entertained, we are going to shelve my various specific and miasmic complaints and see some photos of Vegas! Right on!

Here’s something unusual:

Yeah, desert ducks. Shown here swimming in one of the arroyos that carries the runoff from Lake Mead.

It ain’t easy to be a duck in Vegas:

Facing not only heat and the unsuitably arid climate, but also the consistent prejudice Duck Americans routinely confront in area casinos, these particular ducks are furthermore being stalked by a cat (see right). A cat! Nature, red in tooth and claw!

Tell you the truth, I wish I had just stayed in Vegas. Make a note of it, because you’ll probably never again hear me say that I wish I could have spent more time in Vegas. This is a “special time” (as we’ve been told ad nauseam by the bridal industry and well-meaning observers who have forgotten their own pre-wedding experience) and leading up to our “special day” there are a lot of things to do. Most of them are neither very interesting nor very rewarding. But yet here we are! Busy, busy, busy!

Meanwhile, back in Vegas, there’s the Bellagio Fountain:

In what may be one of the most ironic moments I have ever experienced in my life, this fountain display was done to the musical accompaniment of the Shaker hymn, “Simple Gifts.” You know the one: “Tis a gift to be simple/tis a gift to be free/tis a gift to come down/where you ought to be./And when you find yourself/in the place just right/it will be in the valley of love and delight…” and so forth.

I like to hum that little ditty while I’m playing blackjack and enjoying a free cocktail, don’t you?

The Bellagio’s so big (I understand it cost $1.6 billion to build and I simply cannot think of a better use for that money, can you?) that you could drive a car in there:

Somebody was getting his kicks.

I also visited the Palace of the Mighty Caesar and captured the beauty of this “sculpture” on film. This one sits just outside the entrace to the shopping mall at the Palace of the Mighty Caesar, the Forum Shops:

All hail the great Shopimus Maximus!

La Tour Eiffel still stands in the desert:

Shameless Replicas ‘R Us!

And speaking of shameless replicas, I finally made it to the Venetian, which cost $1.2 billion to construct. Fine place like this don’t come cheap, people!:

Phoney baloney frescoes on the ceiling of the second-floor shopping area. Ask not “Is it art?” for the answer should be obvious.

They also have a replica of the Grand Canal, complete with gondoliers…

…and more gondoliers:

As you might expect, there is a special wedding gondola:

Two lucky people whose wedding is over. How I envy them!

In my current predicament, I can’t help but feel that those two were the smartest people in the room. Why Alex and I didn’t realize that the Vegas wedding was the royal road to happiness right from the beginning, I’ll never know.

In spite of all we’re juggling, Lord willing, I’ll be back with some knitting later in the week.

In the meantime, if you have any thoughts about why the modest family wedding with a traditional ceremony in a place that isn’t a casino is actually really worth it, please leave a comment. For the moment, I’ve forgotten entirely why it seemed like a good idea.

This weekend was our citywide garage sale.  (Although, as Harvey astutely pointed out to me, calling Savannah a “city” is a bit of a stretch.  “Townwide garage sale would be more accurate,” he said, and I have to agree.)

But, aptly named or not, Harvey and I spent some quality time running down bargains and looking over other people’s old junk.  And we found some real treasures in amongst the crap!

1.  These handy little spice jars.

2.  Some useful Tupperware items.  (Since moving out on my own, I have very few food-storage type containers.)

3.  A couple of small coolers/Thermoses.  Always handy.

4.  An ice cream scoop, a silver pie server, and a small Christmas tin, which will be squirrelled away to be used at Christmas for giving cookies.

5.  Three brass candlesticks, of the romantic “Wee Willie Winky” variety.  I have a vision of myself, enveloped in a silky wrapper, with long, loose tresses tumbling down my back, using one of these candlesticks (with a candle in it, naturally) to espy dark and mysterious corners and cupboards.  (Never mind that I don’t own a silky wrapper, nor do I have long tresses any more.  I can dream, can’t I?)

6.  Two bookcases, badly needed at my place.  You can see some of my knitting books have already taken up residence on the second one, there.

7.  A large basket and a cool spindle, which was labelled a “yarn winder.”  Hah!  Those people obviously know nothing!  Nothing!

8.  A wire shelving system, which came with 42 sides, a steal at only $5.  (A representative sample shown here.)

9.  A stoneware bowl, good for holding fruit, onions, or other such sundries. 

10.  Eleven very acceptable wine glasses for only $2!  $2.00!  Yes, indeed. 

11.  A new bike for Harvey, not pictured.  He is absolutely happy as a clam about this, and wants to ride all over town, right now.

12.  And, saving the best for last, an almost brand-new pair of Dansko clogs, in exactly my size.  These are a $100 pair of shoes which I obtained for the low, low price of….wait for it….$7.50. 

It’s hard to describe how happy this makes me.  I love these shoes and already own two pairs in a couple of different colors.  Ever since I worked in a commercial kitchen, I’ve developed a slight addiction to these clogs.  Oh, my goodness.  Be still, my beating heart. 

Through the magic of technology, I am posting this while I am on my way to…Las Vegas! I swear, I spend more time in Vegas than anyone I know who isn’t a compulsive gambler, and yet it is all for work. Serious work! Cross my heart and hope to die.

I’m going to an academic conference on risk. Okay, yes, there is a “Gaming Nite!” (which, rumor has it, devolved last year into a drunken conga line composed primarily of middle-aged men sporting tweed jackets with patches on the elbows) but the rest of it is as sober as Cotton Mather on a Sunday morning.

Or as sober as I am when I am packing house.

It has occurred to me that this situation has all the makings of a bad movie plot: “When commitment-phobic thirty-nine-year-old Ellen visits Las Vegas a mere twenty-three days before her wedding, little does she know what temptations she will face…and what hilarious hi-jinks will ensue! But as they say, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas!”

At the end of the movie, our heroine—after narrowly extracting herself from potentially shameful shenanigans with the cast of the “Thunder from Down Under” male strip show, flirting with the idea of leaving academia to become a showgirl, and blowing the entirety of her fall semester stipend shooting craps at Caesar’s Palace—realizes, and fortunately not too late!, that domestic bliss really is everything it’s cracked up to be. Whereupon she returns to Boston, gets married to the man of her dreams, and lives happily ever after with a large collection of Le Creuset pots, fondue sets, and toasters.

Thereby affirming our unshakable belief in marriage, motherhood, hot dogs, apple pie, baseball, Chevrolet, and wedding registries.

Knitwise, even as you are reading this, I am working on a lovely little scarf:

Divine Laines du Nord Mulberry Silk in a periwinkle blue color that I find simply heavenly.

I have not—I repeat, have not—abandoned Minnie, in spite of her truculent and boorish behavior. I merely needed a portable project to take with me to Vegas.

The idea is that knitting will keep me out of trouble. It hasn’t worked in the past, but there’s a first time for everything.

More soon from the City of Sin…

I decided, while thinking about what to write about on the blog today, that it might be an instructional exercise to come up with seven random things about myself, even though it was Ellen who was originally tagged with the meme.  After all, we are in this blog together, are we not?

But first, a report on Rumpelstiltskin.

He is coming along very nicely.

Growing steadily.  They just grow up so fast, don’t they?  (As an aside, when Harvey was a little bitty baby, I would take him out to the grocery store or some such place, and more than once a complete stranger would say to me, “Oh, don’t you wish they could stay that little forever?!”  “OH MY GOD!”  I wanted to scream.  “The horror!  The horror!”)

In a break from my usual pattern, I am holding steadfast to knitting on Rumpel.

 

I am determined to finish this shawl in time for the wedding.

1.  Harvey and I are now blue belt, brown tip in Tae Kwon Do.  We broke boards at our last testing.  It was surprisingly easy–I was told beforehand by more than one person:  “It only hurts if the board doesn’t break.”

2.  I own 200+ cookbooks and baking books.  This is a somewhat shameful admission which I trust you will all treat with due gentleness.

3.  I bought this skein of hemp yarn

 

last weekend at the Yarn Barn in Lawrence, KS.  I’m going to make a couple more dishcloths out of it.

4.  When I was a little girl, I collected frogs–frog figurines, frog bookends, frog stickers….  The last remnant of this charming obsession is a silver frog ring which my sister gave me years ago and which I have taken to wearing again.  I realize now why I haven’t worn it very much–the only finger it fits properly upon is the ring finger of my left hand.

5.  The oddest thing I have ever eaten is a smoked ant.  It was crunchy and really, really salty.  Sort of like a tiny little potato chip with tiny little legs.

6.  When I was in the eighth grade, I lost the county spelling bee on the word “ankh.”

7.  I memorize poetry, and when I’m by myself in my car (truck, actually) and don’t feel like listening to music, I recite said poetry.  I feel certain that this either reveals me as a completely pretentious egghead, or reveals that I am charmingly odd genius.

Here’s a sample:

The Snowflake Which Is Now and Hence Forever

 

Will it last? he says.

Is it a masterpiece?

Will generation after generation

Turn with reverence to the page?

 

Birdseye scholar of the frozen fish,

What would he make of the sole, clean, clear

Leap of the salmon that has disappeared?

 

To be, yes!–whether they like it or not!

But not to last when leap and water are forgotten,

A plank of standard pinkness in the dish.

 

They also live

Who swerve and vanish in the river.

 

–Archibald MacLeish