Salt Lake City, UT – “My Husband’s Scarf” – The Zephyr – August 31, 2000
Salt Lake City turns into a picturesque canvas in the fall. The heat doesn’t hurt the way it does in June. After a long 520-mile trek, my legs refused to cooperate when we finally arrived at The Zephyr. They’d grown accustomed to their 90 degree possition having spent the road trip sleeping, reading, eating nothing but Swedish fish and immersing myself in knitting—a blue scarf for a husband I haven’t met yet.
No, I’m not engaged. And no, there’s no serious relationship in sight. But standing in a yarn shop in Boulder, I stumbled upon this irresistibly soft, variegated blue yarn. It struck me as the perfect material for a scarf I’d want to someday knit for my future husband. Why wait? I thought. Why not start it today? I bought a bushel of the stuff for $10.99 a ball and began my future husband’s gift that afternoon. My plan is simple—knit this scarf exclusively until I meet him. I’m under no illusions that my soulmate is just around the corner; in fact, I suspect this scarf will grow long enough to wrap around several city blocks before we cross paths. But I like the idea I’ll have something to give him when we meet. I like the idea I’ll recognize him by how naturally he complements the yarn and I like the idea he’ll know I was thinking about him long before we met.
As sensation returned to my feet, I cautiously scanned the area before stepping out of the van. A sense of unease clung to me; I couldn’t shake the feeling that Cindy, the lunatic Soucy had picked up during our last stop here, might spring from the shadows at any moment. It’s not paranoia when it’s justified. Two months ago, following our last Zepher show, Cindy had lured us to her place, promising a party and accommodations for the night. However, upon arrival, we discovered there was no party—just a cramped studio apartment with a lone twin bed and an oversized framed poster of James Taylor above it.
To Soucy’s dismay, Cindy had offered us her bed while she took the couch. But once the lights were out, she suddenly launched herself between the two of us, attempting to kiss us both. Escaping Salt Lake City unscathed felt like a narrow victory.
In the dressing room, I ran through vocal exercises, scoping the mirror for any new band stickers among the usual suspects. Then, my gaze caught something unusual—a child-like scribble on the wall that read, “Who is this Chris Soucy and why does he keep blowing my mind?” It was the only graffiti interrupting the sea of band stickers plastered around. When I pointed it out to The Doc—Soucy—he laughingly accused me of writing it as a prank. But I didn’t.
Is it a puzzle wrapped in mystery? or is it Cindy? You decide.
😅 This all proves dear Sally …how powerful our thoughts are.⭐️🌠⭐️
If they are obsessed…continuously in repetition of a whacked out idea , as possibly Cindy’s was 😳…it can haunt us, lure us, and appear in places for odd reminders of the unexplained strangeness our thoughts can dwell in.
I love the blue yarn for your future husband and love my beautiful midnight blue nightcap you knit for me Sally. I am curious what thoughts appeared while knitting it 😉It surely is a gem shining amongst the stars and moon light in it’s woven magic ⭐️💖🌠😌🕊
THANKYOU 🤲💖😊
Dear SueAnn,
I love that you knit together the “night cap” I knit you on commission and my dear husband’s blue scarf. I met him only a year after this tale and the scarf was still short enough to be wearable. It reaches from his neck on either side, to his feet when he’s standing. He loves it enough to never wear it. He fears it getting damaged I think. He adores that I was dreaming of him in it before we met.
Is “why wait? Why not start it today?” in honour of your aunt Kate? 💕
How romantic to even think like this before you met him. Your missing part😉 I love that song. “Where you entered I confess i found my home… I know that you’ll watch while I sleep…to record all the things that I miss out in my dreams…I know cause I feel it in my heart…I have found my missing part.” Beautiful love song ❤️ You definitely write lyrical puzzles. I can hear it in “Bicycle” as well.
Missing Part feels like a cross-pollination or expansion of your brother’s song about you “Island”.
I don’t know if the right word is self-transcendence? Many of your tales on the road feel like the loneliness of “Island” and like you’re travelling to get to “Missing Part” I feels like the road leads back home and there’s a happy ending or new beginning ❤️
Wow Julia,
How deeply insightful. I had to read your comment twice to fully grok all the psychological thought you put into it. I think you’re right. I am, as my brother righty put, “An Island,” and as you so intimated, looking for the “Missing Part” I wrote about. I’m going to have to go back to therapy for this one. Thank you for your truly helpful and thoughtful insights. I will be marinating in this for a while I think.
I am beyond sorry if that opened a wound Sally. I should have been more conscious. Know that I follow your music because I relate to those vulnerable feelings. I also hear an inner strength, a love of life and a deep love for every human being you cross paths with. It’s a quality I see in my own mother that inspires me because it’s what I lack.
I wish you only happy thoughts xoxoxo
Oh goodness, not at all Julia,
I honestly mean that your comment was deeply thoughtful, insightful and helpful. It was not at all wound opening and I was only joking about needing to go to therapy for it. Honestly, I really mean it–your comment is deep and helpful.