围巾、女儿和岁月 (w English)

下星期就是感恩节了, 这就准备去看女儿了。昨晚想起该准备行装了，就给她发了个微信，问她需要从家里带些什么。不见她回复。又text她，还不见回复。女儿一个人住，最近一个多星期没联系，心里不放心，马上拎起电话拨了过去。好在一声嘟之后，她就接了。

 

那时七点多了，她说自己才下班到家，还没有吃晚饭。我说“妈妈知道你安全就好，不跟你多说了，你赶紧去忙。” 不料，女儿说，“妈妈，我不饿，我不忙，我要跟你说说话。” 女儿一定想家了。

 

就这样，我们从工作聊到天气，聊到她同事，聊这座城市，她说自己过得还不错，只是那里天气冷，风大，皮肤干裂了，想让我帮着看看更好的风衣手套之类的。加州长大的孩子，开始怀念这里四季的阳光温暖，傍晚美丽的日落和繁华的城市了。

 

这就自然想起家中还有几条自己几年前在她上大学时给她打的围巾，其中一两条漂亮的上次已经带走了，剩下的这次也准备一起带上吧。

 

话说这打毛衣活，还是在读大学时学会的。那时物质条件不像今天。当宿舍里有人带了个头打起毛衣，整一层楼里就像一股热风席卷，很快，宿舍里人手四根毛线针，一团毛线球，大家埋头坐在床前打，为自己、为男朋友添温暖增风姿。一时间，棒针麻花成了冬天毛衣的最时尚编织，镂空开司米成了春天校园的一道风景。而我一个好学生，也经不起诱惑，将手中的书本和笔墨撂一边，也拿起针线加入作战行列。为打好一只袖子，收好领口，拆了又打，打了又拆；为赶活，废寝忘食，挑灯夜战，乐此不疲。当看到美丽的图案从自己手中诞生，当合身独创的衣服穿上身后，如果这时有个人赞美一番或打听针法时， 那种喜悦会一扫曾经为之付出所带来的疲倦，随之而来的是琢磨着下一件该打什么。

 

后来，有了织毛衣的机器，可以从众多五花八门的开司米羊毛线中选择喜欢的花色，或单色或混合，又可以量体裁衣，而机器编出来的衣裙又细密又漂亮。再后来，自己工作了，生孩子，出国了，全球商业发展迅猛，这门手艺就搁置一边，更加无了用武之地。

 

女儿在此读小学五六年级时，学校组织了一次一星期的“室外教育”。老师通知家长做好御寒准备工作，因为去的是一个海拔多少千米高的山野中。那一刻，突然想起自己还有这一编织手艺，赶紧当天冲进商店买线买针，花了一天一夜时间赶出一条不太长、窄窄的围巾。女儿离家出发那天，反复交代，如果冷了，把围巾围上，一条围巾抵一件衣服......

 

随同一起帮忙的家长从山上发来照片，女儿身穿褐色厚外套，站在人群中，淡蓝色的围巾点缀着胸前，显得那么醒目......

 

六年前换工作，公司有个从阿根廷移民来的女同事，很喜欢编织，重又勾起我的欲望。我把家里多年前打的两件全毛毛衣拆了，其中一件是自己给LD打过的唯一一件全毛毛衣，重新打成了两条又大又宽的围巾，一条给了女儿, 一条挂在自己公司椅背上，在办公室冷气开的太足的日子里，可以保护双肩不着凉。

 

女儿上大学那年，回国时从国内带了上好的羊绒线，给她打了好几条围巾，估计其中有的都没用上。而今她举迁去了更冷的地方工作，这些闲置在家中衣柜里的长围巾大概有了用武之地了。今特意存照于此(第一条不是羊绒的)，另外几条以后有机会补上 (又11／18在车库碰巧看到我给女儿大的唯一的一顶帽子， 但是那条配套的围巾找不到了，中间是条大麻花，这些线在美国买的，全晴纶的，质量不好)。(BTW，今早下了点雨，中午出去，天空的云朵漂亮极了，可惜不能完全拍下来。附上随手照的。)(答应网友的，又加了11／20刚刚拍的，一条很大很宽的围巾，旧全毛毛衣拆了打的，个人觉得好看，披上以后，那条麻花是横着的)。

 

LD总是不赞成我把时间浪费在这上面，总说，什么年代了，这几(十)块钱的东西买就好了。我也同意他的说法，人生有更重要的事要做。但是我从不后悔，时间不就是拿来浪费的吗，至少这浪费掉的时间还是留下了点什么，这一针一线，细细密密，织进我多少柔情爱意，储存着多少记忆在其中，给自己，给女儿留下些许美好的物件去温暖、去品用。

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Last night’s phone conversation with my daughter lasted an hour, in which she told me that the weather was cold, cloudy and windy there. Right off the phone, I started searching in the wardrobe for the scarves I knitted for her a few years ago. She took one or two with her, leaving at home the rest.

 

My knitting skill was picked up at the college, when one experienced girl started, and soon almost everyone in the dorm bought yarns, sticks and knitting books.  We were like tireless machines knitting day and night, and if the try-on turned out unsatisfactorily, long curly yarns would be pulled out of the finished product to be redone from the scratch.  Barely anyone complained about sitting there for hours having back pains or neck pains, as the output of a finished sweater was so encouraging and rewarding. For a time, we were in relentless quests for more fashionable patterns or seasonal styles. 

 

I was a good student then, but also could not resist the temptation of owning one, a sweater out of my own hand and to my liking.  Inevitably I was among them, squeezing time out of sleeping, eating, reading, studying or other activities.  It was just such a fad.

 

The skill was never perfected after I came here in the U.S. Living in Southern CA, you really don’t need a scarf. Plus, in a commercial world like this, who would still need knitting when buying one costs only a few bucks?

 

Not until the year when my daughter was at her sixth grade,  the school organized a one-week outdoor education in an area high up in the mountain. A teacher's notice came to the parents, reminding us that the temperature could be low there, and we were asked to equip our kids with sufficient outfits.  That moment, the idea of knitting her a scarf surfaced. I rushed to the stores for yarns and knitting sticks, and within a day and a night, a not-very-long and narrow scarf was tucked into her packed luggage.

 

She wore it, and in the pictures sent back to us from the chaperon mom, the familiar blue-white colored scarf around her neck with a little tail in front of her chest stood out from the crowd. For the whole week, the weather was actually not as cold as it was warned, but wearing it must have reminded her of sweet home and the Mom, as the love knitted into each stitch being transmitted in the isolated place.

 

A co-worker at my current company, an immigrant from Argentina, loves knitting.  It triggered me to pick up knitting again when my daughter was accepted into a college at the Northern California. On my trip back to China in 2014, I spent more than $60 to buy the cashmere yarns.  The envisioning of its end products excited me.

 

In the ensuing months, I found myself sitting in the couch or in front of the TV, knitting with the aging eyesight.  My husband was very disapproved of my wasting time over it.  True, it is time-consuming, especially with thin thread and small size needles.  I remember I got agitated towards the end pushing myself to finish. 

 

I probably won’t knit again.  But I never regret doing that, as the scarves sitting in the wardrobe, or tying around my daughter’s neck to ward off the cold, will always be a testimony of my passion and my love, an imprint I left for myself and for my daughter.