So many of my readers today are gathering to celebrate American Thanksgiving (we Canadians did that in October in a considerably more laid-back holiday). Happy Thanksgiving to you, although I suspect you’ll be too busy to read that greeting other than belatedly.
While many are busy celebrating, I’ll be doing laundry, restocking the pantry, and finishing my granddaughter’s second sock, half of a now-overdue birthday gift. On yesterday’s ten-hour flight, I knit enough length above the ankle that the red ribbing will show above the top of her Doc Martens. I even turned the heel (once again giving thanks to the ancestors who devised this technology). But the sock lacked instep and toe coverage, so that’s today’s Most Important Task.
You’re busy; I’m busy. Meanwhile, I’m still absorbing a plenitude of travel experiences, trying to capture memories before they dissipate, released from the emotional intensity of their moment. A bundle of photos as well, too many to reasonably keep in the cloud. The usual post-travel attempt to integrate what I’ve done, seen, heard, felt, eaten, said (all the verbs!) during our time Away with my life Back Home.
All of which usually generates a wordy post that neither you nor I have time for today. Instead, a series of photos taken dockside in a fishing town near Rome. I’d taken and posted on Instagram a photo and video of fishermen mending their nets, and then started to pay closer attention to the nets stretched out to dry or bundled and tied up along the quay.
Before this, on numerous visits, I’d only seen lumpy piles of tangled net randomly dotted along my walk. Paying attention, I recognized patterns of folding and tying that indicated skill and experience and careful maintenance of an economic investment.
And my eyes, once alerted, started noticing colour and pattern in the mending of the nets. Perhaps just dictated by exigency, by what was available, what needed to be used up — red twine rather than white — but perhaps signalling lengths of net or perhaps even designed to incite fish curiosity. . .
I like to think that the artistic impulse played a role as well . . .
Easy to believe,
noting the rhythm of texture and pattern, the bold and the subtle play between colours and neutrals.
The mending invites me to imagine stories: the storm or the heavy catch or the sloppy handling by a neophyte crew member that tore a hole and cost someone a week’s pay, maybe that month’s rent.
The parolacce (big bad words!) that were hurled, then the sigh as the inevitable was accepted, perhaps even the pleasure taken in choosing that particular blue — a bit teal, a bit aqua.
And there I go with the words again. Hard to resist when a Mender/Maker, far from home, recognizes the work of another Mender/Maker, albeit in a different medium and to a different purpose.
But I will resist further commentary and let the rest of the photos speak their Random Beauty for themselves.
I’ll just close by saying that as we mend, we knot or stitch or glue or weld together, in the present, the Past and the Future. And that the action comprises much Hope (remember my choosing this as my Word of the Year for 2022? not much follow-up on that here, was there. . . hmmm). And that remembering those mended nets in Lazio back home as I darn socks, embroider moth holes, reinforce worn denim with heavy cotton thread and a sashiko needle, connects — stitches together even! — There and Here, Then and Now.
Just as I remembered, standing in front of those nets in Italy, having mended this linen EF dress just before we left home last month. . .
More on recent mending projects in a post very soon.
But first, this Nana needs to finish knitting a pair of socks! Drop me a line, would you, in the comments below. And thanks very much again, to those of you who have Bought Me a Coffee recently. The tangible encouragement and financial support toward blogging costs is much appreciated.
xo,
f
Mu uncle was a commercial fisherman and in the winter he repaired nets for others. I was always fascinated by this which made this posting extra special. Thank you for sharing.
Author
I’m so pleased you enjoyed the post — that was a very useful skill your uncle had!
Thanks for sharing
Author
You’re very welcome!
such a gift to be able to grasp the beauty of the everyday. We need only to look.
Author
It is a gift! So much out there to enrich our days.
Who would have thought that there was so much beauty to be found in piles of fishing nets? Thank you for sharing!
Author
It’s surprising, isn’t it?! The patterns!
Lovely photos! That’s just the kind of thing that catches my eye when traveling. I find mending so satisfying these days. Right now I’m plugging away on a favorite sweatshirt, just stitching over small stains. I love everything about this sweatshirt except for the rather dreary color so I’m adding all the color I can with some patches and some bright variegated thread. Those socks sound cute and I’m sure they’ll be much appreciated.
Author
Ooh, I bet that sweatshirt is going to be spectacular — I love doing this, adding bit by bit. . .
Beautiful photos Frances . It doesn’t look like you’re overcome by jet lag as I used to be . Feeling uncoordinated & woolly headed was normal for me . I couldn’t have put together a coherent post like this . Or knit a sock – never have done that 😁Welcome home
Author
To be honest, yesterday was rough, but I got the post done early enough that I felt I’d accomplished something. Had a hard time walking a straight line when I went out for fresh air in the afternoon! 😉
There can be much beauty in the utilitarian, if we look for it. Honesty too. Practising and passing on skills can be very satisfying. While I can mend and sew a little, I can’t use a sewing machine and, as yet, I’ve not had much success in passing on the skills I do have. The fishing nets are beautiful and your photos are charming. Welcome back and I hope the well-travelled socks are done.
Author
Thanks, Maria! I heartily agree with you about utilitarian beauty — a wonderful bonus when we see it!
(those socks need another couple of hours — I tried! 😉
The fishing net photos are so delightful – mending is such important work. Here, in the Madawaska Valley, we find art in stacked woodpiles – the colours and textures of logs are just amazing. I am a new reader and am so enjoying your posts.
Author
Thanks so much for reading and for joining the conversation, Miriam! The majority of us on the little island where I used to live had woodstoves and there were some beautifully stacked woodpiles — not as much as you would have where you are, but I know what you mean. Something about that organic beauty . . .
Beautiful nets…who knew they could be so photogenic?
Lovely mending accent on the linen dress….the red makes a statement.
Author
Thanks Leslie!
Thank you for sharing the beauty of the nets. I love the way your eye has been drawn to something once unseen or at least unnoticed or unrecognized. Increasingly it seems to me that all that really matters is this — not the big ideas, the grand things, the distractions with which we fool ourselves — the quotidian, the everyday, the making do. Life.
Rest and catch up and I look forward to reading more words and thoughts, seeing more pictures, whenever they shall appear.
Author
Thanks, Mardel! I do need to rest, but hope to be sharing more about this trip soon.
Frances,
I am a long-time fan of your blog. Thank you for sharing your life with us.
Author
So kind of you to let me know that, CJ! That encouragement means a great deal!
Thank you for sharing your journey and photos. Spurred on by your earlier posts I looked out a favourite cashmere cardigan which I have had for over 20 years. The elbows had given out but I found some cashmere patches online and repaired it. In the past I would have gone for a discreet colour to blend in with the deep purple but now I chose a vibrant red to make a good contrast. An elegant but no longer used black work suit jacket (hurrah for retirement !) has now been jazzed up with some red poppy fabric patches and worn on Remembrance Day recently. As we cut back on domestic heat in the UK, my husband and I have started sporting a boho layering look to accommodate warm thermals and the occasional hot water bottle tucked under a gilet.
Author
Brava, Heather! I’m guessing you love wearing your sassy but classic cardi now . . . and smart use of the black jacket. I think we all need to turn our thermostats down when possible and embrace that “boho layering look” 😉
Those blues in picture no. 8!
I love mending, but lack the time at the moment, Xmas presents and cookie baking taking precedence. But I am looking forward to some peaceful darning during the holidays.
Author
Aren’t those blues rich?!
I know you’re very good with the homemade gifts — lucky recipients!
Welcome home, Frances. I’ve not been present on your blog but have been following on IG. I’m imagining a sweater or scarf in the turquoise and blue of those nets. Some of them are amazingly colourful. xo
Author
Some of them verge on 90s colour block! I loved seeing the ingenuity and practicality yield such striking results.
Frances, you have such a gift for finding beauty in what others overlook! I’ve enjoyed (once again) traveling with you through Italy and Paris, and look forward to further stories of your adventures. In part selfishly, I admit, we’re off to Paris for a few days in January (big birthday) and you always steer me to some good art. 😉
Author
Oooh, we did see a few good exhibitions in Paris. If I don’t post here about them soon enough, I can email you the details.
Beautiful pictures! And I enjoyed your story about sock-knitting for your granddaughter. Over decades of knitting, socks have ultimately become my favourite kind of project and I have knit many, many pairs. The wonder of turning a heel has never palled … I feel like I am performing magic every time!
Author
I’m with you — I love how portable and practical a project it is — and that bit of magic doesn’t hurt! Also magic is how surprised the recipient is when they try the sock on. Sometimes I think they assume a handknit sock will be bulky and uncomfortable, and are delighted to discover how comfortable they are.
I love the idea of your grand-daughter wearing the socks you make her with her Doc Martens.
The photos are wonderful. All of the detail and color in the fishing nets is so inviting.
My great-uncle was a lobsterman and my mother talks about him mending nets.
My knitting skills are limited – have never turned a heel (or knit a sock), but I do some basic knitting, learned embroidery from my mother and grandmother and I repair, repair, repair. So, I appreciate this post.
Interestingly, sewing skills come in handy in so many areas. I’ve had surgeries for skin cancer and discussed the sewing plan with two surgeons in the past. I understand the problems that they are trying to work out and appreciate their sewing skills!
Author
It’s a sassy pairing, isn’t it? The Docs and the socks 😉
So interesting to think about that application of sewing skills.
Your pictures of the fishing nets are gorgeous – both for their colours and for their patterns and designs. So many designs of colour and pattern can be a surprise as to where they are found. I am retired from owning my own small sewing business. When I use to stand at my cutting table and cut out dozens of placemats, etc, in various colours, I would toss the small excess fabric pieces on a pile in front of me. I would look up and marvel at all the colour combinations I would never have thought to put together. My Mom, who is a quilter, took all those pieces and made them into a gorgeous quilt for me, with all those delicious colours pieced together. When I look at my quilt it not only reminds me of my Mom and all the hard work it takes to put a quilt together but it is also a reminder of all the various items I made out of each piece of fabric. A true work of art from the heart.
I don’t often comment but enjoy reading your blog and follow you on Instagram and I appreciate all the work you put into it. I hope you and your hubby get feeling better soon!
Author
Oh, Carolyn, that quilt must be such a treasure! Thanks for sharing this description! And thanks for the encouragement re the blog and also for the get-well wishes.
Dear Frances,
I fell of the face of the internet for a while (uncertain job situation and similar stresses) but I am back again and enjoying your writing as before! I saw those nets also on your instagram and thought how they depict also the size of fishes caught. Because, in the small croatian seaside village we spend our summers, all the nets are from a much finer thread, similar to the ones one uses for angling and have also a denser weave.
Thank you for writing!
Author
I’m happy to see you back again — I hope that life has eased up a bit for you!
It’s very true — to an educated or experienced eye, those nets will tell stories of their catches and some will be able to tell at a glance what the target species might be. (I’m imagining your beautiful small seaside village — lovely!)