Hands
It was a hunt for a darling knitting pattern that first got my hands on an issue of Taproot magazine. I've handled almost every issue now, a year later. And you know what really solidified my love for the pages, the section that is simply entitled, hands. It eludes to handwork, which is a love for me, but also, just to acknowledge the simple necessity. It's sort of a nervous admission to say that I've always had an affinity for hands. When I'm feeling overwhelmed or a bit spent on this journey of life I just look down at my own and see my story. So then I find myself noticing the hands of the ones around me. The farmer, the mother, the banker and the little dirty ones that I am helping shape. In my own hands, the ones I feel proud of, the ones that look so beautiful to me, I see the days I was young and my love told me he liked my hands, my long skinny fingers. I see them holding my first born and how they went from clerical work to mothering in an abrupt early ar