What am I thinking?
Not only is this post late, the summer to summer tally is short, short, short. From Memorial Day to Memorial Day was the initial intent. An appropriate textile year - not calendar nor fiscal - June lets me start fresh. It's almost the end of June. You'd think I'd forgotten.
What did I knit?
This year was BUSY. The knitting was not so great. I completed knitting a grand total of:
Three Whole Scarves
One Cowl
One Pair of Socks
What, no more knitting?
Au contraire. True, much of the knitting in progress this year has drifted in and out of actual progress:
1. There was a variant of an 1860's "bosom friend" shawl destined for costume use. Sewing took priority, and so that is languishing.
2. There's some progress on the cotton blanket.
3. I stalled on a pair of gloves for my nephew, who will likely not be wanting them for cross country in fall. Stalled for questions of size, the glove has now had a fitting and should be fit to return to active knitting.
4. After a false start of a third of a foot, one of the socks from the wonderfully named Frogs in a Blender colorway is actually done, and the next is underway.
5. Knitting a Stephen West scarf for myself. I am doing the dance of no leftovers, hoping that I will gauge the knitting correctly so I have the perfect amount of yarn left for the finishing.
What DID I do?
A. A year long project involving Civil War era costumes. I have increased my lifetime count of making men's tailored jackets from two to well over a dozen.
B. Tenure and promotion.
C. Directed two shows.
D. Put on unnecessary weight. (See A, B, C, B, and B.)
E. Lowered my blood pressure and cholesterol, despite D.
What am I doing now?
Excellent question. That's for another post. Some evidence in the previous post.
24 June 2011
Knitting Summer
Practicing slowing down.
Visiting friends.
Remembering I cook.
Walking.
Getting rid of stuff.
Thinking about blogs and letters.
Going to a few plays.
Oh. Look at the time. I better not slow down now. Curtain waits for no slowpoke.
Visiting friends.
Remembering I cook.
Walking.
Getting rid of stuff.
Thinking about blogs and letters.
Going to a few plays.
Oh. Look at the time. I better not slow down now. Curtain waits for no slowpoke.
19 May 2011
On We Go
I wonder what I would draw today, were I to follow the steps Betty Edwards describes in Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain for creating analog drawings of abstract ideas or emotions.
I might draw a crossroads, though that feels puzzling to have just typed. I foresee no change of job and am not organized enough at the moment for a house purchase. I don't have large questions hanging in front of me with audiences rapt for an answer. But then, I might not draw about me.
I might draw a blank, all puns intended. I am tired, that's for darned sure. I have had twelve months of crazypants, if I may borrow the clever term from the glamourblogs of knittinglore. I have a lot I want to do, wish to do, and still must do in this transition from spring to summer. Finding it hard to start today. And then, I might not draw about things to do.
I'd steer away from drawing the symbol or the icon: no sad face, no tear. Though an old friend of mine has died, a too-young friend, and I cried today at home as I needed, the stories to tell are not as simple as those symbols.
I'd draw, though, with purpose.
I'd draw lines full of energy. I'd draw a line which bursts into more lines, which gives new starts, which starts other tragectories. I'd draw a line which looks for new space, for new beginnings, for other fascinating and glorious lines to support, shape, embellish, and let go. I'd draw a line that let go.
I'd draw a line that would say go on: On we go!
In memoriam: Randall Wreghitt
With thanks for friendship, support, a bit of mentoring, and laughter that spanned almost 30 years.
You were a gift to many - and a great, great example to follow.
Your online status always closed with the phrase above, and it will be no surprise that your love for the theatre will go on in the work of so many you celebrated.
Sadly without you, happily for having known you, on we go.
I might draw a crossroads, though that feels puzzling to have just typed. I foresee no change of job and am not organized enough at the moment for a house purchase. I don't have large questions hanging in front of me with audiences rapt for an answer. But then, I might not draw about me.
I might draw a blank, all puns intended. I am tired, that's for darned sure. I have had twelve months of crazypants, if I may borrow the clever term from the glamourblogs of knittinglore. I have a lot I want to do, wish to do, and still must do in this transition from spring to summer. Finding it hard to start today. And then, I might not draw about things to do.
I'd steer away from drawing the symbol or the icon: no sad face, no tear. Though an old friend of mine has died, a too-young friend, and I cried today at home as I needed, the stories to tell are not as simple as those symbols.
I'd draw, though, with purpose.
I'd draw lines full of energy. I'd draw a line which bursts into more lines, which gives new starts, which starts other tragectories. I'd draw a line which looks for new space, for new beginnings, for other fascinating and glorious lines to support, shape, embellish, and let go. I'd draw a line that let go.
I'd draw a line that would say go on: On we go!
In memoriam: Randall Wreghitt
With thanks for friendship, support, a bit of mentoring, and laughter that spanned almost 30 years.
You were a gift to many - and a great, great example to follow.
Your online status always closed with the phrase above, and it will be no surprise that your love for the theatre will go on in the work of so many you celebrated.
Sadly without you, happily for having known you, on we go.
07 May 2011
Worn out but in awe
I consider myself quite fortunate.
I have had some amazing students. They work hard, they struggle uphill when they must, they challenge themselves, and they go extra miles.
I am exhausted right now. It has been a spring of madness on the heels of an endless winter and an overbusy fall.
I'm also looking forward to having them go away for a little while: I can't wait to have some knitting, sewing, and cleaning time for myself.
Still breathing. That is, when they don't take my breath away.
Awe, I tell you.
I have had some amazing students. They work hard, they struggle uphill when they must, they challenge themselves, and they go extra miles.
I am exhausted right now. It has been a spring of madness on the heels of an endless winter and an overbusy fall.
I'm also looking forward to having them go away for a little while: I can't wait to have some knitting, sewing, and cleaning time for myself.
Still breathing. That is, when they don't take my breath away.
Awe, I tell you.
26 April 2011
Oh Heck, it's up to my neck!
With apologies to Shel Silverstein, as I misappropriate and misquote "I'm being swallowed by a boa constrictor."
Busy. More later.
Too much sewing. I have to scramble to the top of the pile.
Busy. More later.
Too much sewing. I have to scramble to the top of the pile.
10 March 2011
Not to Decide is To Decide
I am working on gloves for my nephew but stopped on finger the second because I'm disatisfied. Can't decide my next step.
So I have a needle case of needles and four skeins of yarn, two unwound hanks of stash yarn for a pair of colorwork skeins, a cake of yarn long in the stash, and another cake of yarn I had wound up in the store because I was going to knit it THAT DAY. In October.
So I'm starting everything. Swatching. Starting. I have several days coming up where I have to arrive early and then sit and wait, so I want plenty of knitting options.
I decided I want to have several small knitting projects going right now so I'll have knitting to do when I can't decide what to do about one of them.
Socks, mini shawl, and more socks. And all for me, because that, I decided, was due.
So I have a needle case of needles and four skeins of yarn, two unwound hanks of stash yarn for a pair of colorwork skeins, a cake of yarn long in the stash, and another cake of yarn I had wound up in the store because I was going to knit it THAT DAY. In October.
So I'm starting everything. Swatching. Starting. I have several days coming up where I have to arrive early and then sit and wait, so I want plenty of knitting options.
I decided I want to have several small knitting projects going right now so I'll have knitting to do when I can't decide what to do about one of them.
Socks, mini shawl, and more socks. And all for me, because that, I decided, was due.
09 March 2011
It's a Holiday if I Say So
Made this for a dear friend and colleague who moved away. Should have made it earlier for the winter. Then again, she and her husband were purging household goods like mad for the move, so it's good not to have added to their worldly goods prior to the move.
They're in warmer climate now, but this is still a suitable spring gift for those greyer spring days.
The yarn is Mountain Colors River Twist. The color - Grasshopper, I think. Picked it up at String Theory in Glen Ellyn. Used a pattern developed by and for Knit 1 in Chicago. Bought this in the fall, so it expired “purchase for specific project” shelf life and moved into stash. I knit the yarn doubled and wanted something fast to move stash from storage to done. Use up the skein. Have a small ball about racquetball size - just enough for a garnish somewhere.
I loved the colors in the skein. This was a good lesson in color theory for spinning. The yarn twists have some sparkle. I doubled the yarn and effectively muddied the sparkle. So it goes. And so it goes away.
Happy Gift-Goes-In-The-Mail Day! I'm celebrating, no matter how quiet the party for this party of one.
They're in warmer climate now, but this is still a suitable spring gift for those greyer spring days.
The yarn is Mountain Colors River Twist. The color - Grasshopper, I think. Picked it up at String Theory in Glen Ellyn. Used a pattern developed by and for Knit 1 in Chicago. Bought this in the fall, so it expired “purchase for specific project” shelf life and moved into stash. I knit the yarn doubled and wanted something fast to move stash from storage to done. Use up the skein. Have a small ball about racquetball size - just enough for a garnish somewhere.
I loved the colors in the skein. This was a good lesson in color theory for spinning. The yarn twists have some sparkle. I doubled the yarn and effectively muddied the sparkle. So it goes. And so it goes away.
Happy Gift-Goes-In-The-Mail Day! I'm celebrating, no matter how quiet the party for this party of one.
21 February 2011
This is where ultimatums lead.
Sure, I'm done counting. BIG TALK.
Never slap down ultimatums, I say.
I did have one more thing to toss into my list. I have a great birthday tradition.
On many of my recent birthdays I've been able to see a really good play. It's usually a really dark play. Uncle Vanya. A really dark Little Eyolf - seen in London, even. This pleases me.
This year I was even treated to the play.
I went to Steppenwolf to see Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.
Chris Jones says this. Sometimes I think he's too fussy, but he gets to be. It's his job. It's still a treat for me. Even if it is part of my job.
I liked the play even more than Mr. Jones did. I heard Amy Morton's Martha and Tracy Lett's George say things I'd forgotten and find notes I'd never heard before, and I love the play.
Okay. 18. I fibbed. and 19. LOVELY dinner with great people before the play.
What's a line in the sand worth if you don't sometimes push it?
Never slap down ultimatums, I say.
I did have one more thing to toss into my list. I have a great birthday tradition.
On many of my recent birthdays I've been able to see a really good play. It's usually a really dark play. Uncle Vanya. A really dark Little Eyolf - seen in London, even. This pleases me.
This year I was even treated to the play.
I went to Steppenwolf to see Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf.
Chris Jones says this. Sometimes I think he's too fussy, but he gets to be. It's his job. It's still a treat for me. Even if it is part of my job.
I liked the play even more than Mr. Jones did. I heard Amy Morton's Martha and Tracy Lett's George say things I'd forgotten and find notes I'd never heard before, and I love the play.
Okay. 18. I fibbed. and 19. LOVELY dinner with great people before the play.
What's a line in the sand worth if you don't sometimes push it?
DONE
Done. Done with counting things for celebrating.
Other blogs will have the clever cutesy. Here, not so much.
Done gets to mean not torturing myself for being behind with made up deadlines.
Done with Navy Diagonal Socks. Done dawdling.
This was hard. Started them for my aunt who passed away at the end of that same autumn. Resumed a couple times to make them for my younger aunt, who'd also requested navy. Made a sizing error. More dawdling. Done now. NOT BLOCKING.
Mailing later this week, though. Not waiting until birthday or Christmas.
Done gets to mean gone.
Done means end of this day's/week's/month's blog update, even if it HAS been a month.
Because I'm not done with the blog.
I wasn't trendy to begin with.....
Other blogs will have the clever cutesy. Here, not so much.
Done gets to mean not torturing myself for being behind with made up deadlines.
Done with Navy Diagonal Socks. Done dawdling.
This was hard. Started them for my aunt who passed away at the end of that same autumn. Resumed a couple times to make them for my younger aunt, who'd also requested navy. Made a sizing error. More dawdling. Done now. NOT BLOCKING.
Mailing later this week, though. Not waiting until birthday or Christmas.
Done gets to mean gone.
Done means end of this day's/week's/month's blog update, even if it HAS been a month.
Because I'm not done with the blog.
I wasn't trendy to begin with.....
21 January 2011
A present from the past
17. Family - past and present
My dear cousin found this sweet little photo and shared it with me yesterday.
My dear cousin found this sweet little photo and shared it with me yesterday.
I am this old.
16. It is not always a curse to live in interesting times.
This was on in the waiting room, I understand.
This was on in the waiting room, I understand.
Darkest before the dawn OR Quit whining, already....
I had a rough day on Wednesday. It was hard to count good things during a countdown to a decade change. I worked hard. I got a bunch done, but so what...
And then I had to shut up, because:
13) I have work.
14) I have shelter and food.
15) I have health, and where I am imperfect I can regroup.
Fortunately, Thursday was better.
And then I had to shut up, because:
13) I have work.
14) I have shelter and food.
15) I have health, and where I am imperfect I can regroup.
Fortunately, Thursday was better.
18 January 2011
Taking and Marking a Holiday
I'll cut to the chase. It was a Holiday. I took it. I marked it.
11. Watched a rerun of the six hour series King while I knit. I am just, just old enough to have been alive for the full, brief term of Kennedy's presidency. I have heard the stories of my aunt's bus ride to an interview during the grief-filled riots that burned down areas of Chicago when Martin Luther King was assassinated. But I was little, too little to know. I like to hear the stories, to watch the retellings, to see where we've been, to recognize where we still are, to see where we might go.
12. I stayed home. I wanted to go in to do some work. I didn't want to go in to do some work. Was kind of in a stay-in-pyjamas funk. BUT. I stayed home. Cat was pleased. In the end, I expect this was a good thing.
I packed up the blanket knitting for a little while. Cross training. Cotton knitting works the wrist a bit, it does. Will return to the navy sock.
11. Watched a rerun of the six hour series King while I knit. I am just, just old enough to have been alive for the full, brief term of Kennedy's presidency. I have heard the stories of my aunt's bus ride to an interview during the grief-filled riots that burned down areas of Chicago when Martin Luther King was assassinated. But I was little, too little to know. I like to hear the stories, to watch the retellings, to see where we've been, to recognize where we still are, to see where we might go.
12. I stayed home. I wanted to go in to do some work. I didn't want to go in to do some work. Was kind of in a stay-in-pyjamas funk. BUT. I stayed home. Cat was pleased. In the end, I expect this was a good thing.
I packed up the blanket knitting for a little while. Cross training. Cotton knitting works the wrist a bit, it does. Will return to the navy sock.
At Home
9. I am very much at home in my city. And I enjoy being a traveler at home.
I really like living in the Chicago area, for all its flaws.
It has complexity. It has down-to-earth and over-the-moon.
I grew up learning about neighborhoods through a lot of bus and el riding. I continue to work my way through all KINDS of neighborhoods. The city is on a grid and there are a few diagonals derived from old OLD stage coach and trading routes as well as more recent modes of travel. However, most places you go, you have to turn a corner somewhere. This allows for all kinds of interesting paths, if a body is inclined to seek them out. I typically do. For example, there's an excellent fabric resource near Little Village and Pilssen, where there are also excellent taquerias -- and more.
I drove to church Sunday and failed to get there. I was really late, and then I realized I NEEDED gas well before I WOULD get there. I jumped off the highway, found some place manageable, and found a new plan for the rest of my morning. Went instead in search of a Ukrainian bakery and deli I hadn't been to in awhile. Came away with a great loaf of still warm rye bread.
Spent the rest of my Sunday enjoying the comforts of home AT home.
10. Soup and tea and cat and blankets
With the amount of washing I currently need to do for the house of cat, cotton is just the thing. And as I shook my fist at my too-large quantity of yarn one weekend in summer, I am more than sure I have enough to make a cotton blanket. Worked for a bit on this while thinking about what I might want to knit next for more portable and wearable knitting.
While the cat watched me,
I watched the home team.
Next week also at home? Go Bears.
I really like living in the Chicago area, for all its flaws.
It has complexity. It has down-to-earth and over-the-moon.
I grew up learning about neighborhoods through a lot of bus and el riding. I continue to work my way through all KINDS of neighborhoods. The city is on a grid and there are a few diagonals derived from old OLD stage coach and trading routes as well as more recent modes of travel. However, most places you go, you have to turn a corner somewhere. This allows for all kinds of interesting paths, if a body is inclined to seek them out. I typically do. For example, there's an excellent fabric resource near Little Village and Pilssen, where there are also excellent taquerias -- and more.
I drove to church Sunday and failed to get there. I was really late, and then I realized I NEEDED gas well before I WOULD get there. I jumped off the highway, found some place manageable, and found a new plan for the rest of my morning. Went instead in search of a Ukrainian bakery and deli I hadn't been to in awhile. Came away with a great loaf of still warm rye bread.
Spent the rest of my Sunday enjoying the comforts of home AT home.
10. Soup and tea and cat and blankets
With the amount of washing I currently need to do for the house of cat, cotton is just the thing. And as I shook my fist at my too-large quantity of yarn one weekend in summer, I am more than sure I have enough to make a cotton blanket. Worked for a bit on this while thinking about what I might want to knit next for more portable and wearable knitting.
While the cat watched me,
I watched the home team.
Next week also at home? Go Bears.
Time on Saturday
I wasn't free for all of my Saturday, but I did get to treat myself to some good use of my time.
5. I had very wisely taken a few moments earlier in the week, while cooking some oatmeal, to assemble a weekend breakfast. call it what you will - Cheese strata, company eggs, breakfast casserole, savory bread pudding - it was ready to go, thrifty yet indulgent. Even though I had to go to a workish thing, I had time for a bit of weekend breakfast. Once in awhile, I get the domestic goddess timing right.
6. I'm starting to get the hang (again) of a simpler, decent looking professional "uniform". I can stand. Please note the uniform permits unfinte variety of socks and scarves. I dressed without drama and felt okay about how I was dressed for the afternoon thing. I am slowly managing to keep just enough ahead with laundry, and a very little bit of post holiday sale shopping increased the success rate odds.
7. With my large pocket of morning time saved with these two schemes, I took time to mop my bedroom floor. Moved furniture. Flipped mattress and springs. Changed bedding. Unpacked new white-sale pillows. Time WELL spent.
8. Left the afternoon event without staying later to do things and without bringing a slug of things home to do. I never really respect my personal time as I should. Gave myself permission to pick up a small bit of indulgent takeout, and knit that evening. Not too long, though. I went to bed early - an excellent use of my time.
(I type this, of course, to remind myself that I ought to take this kind of time for myelf more often. These are not remarkable things, and perhaps I could hit them a bit more often.)
5. I had very wisely taken a few moments earlier in the week, while cooking some oatmeal, to assemble a weekend breakfast. call it what you will - Cheese strata, company eggs, breakfast casserole, savory bread pudding - it was ready to go, thrifty yet indulgent. Even though I had to go to a workish thing, I had time for a bit of weekend breakfast. Once in awhile, I get the domestic goddess timing right.
6. I'm starting to get the hang (again) of a simpler, decent looking professional "uniform". I can stand. Please note the uniform permits unfinte variety of socks and scarves. I dressed without drama and felt okay about how I was dressed for the afternoon thing. I am slowly managing to keep just enough ahead with laundry, and a very little bit of post holiday sale shopping increased the success rate odds.
7. With my large pocket of morning time saved with these two schemes, I took time to mop my bedroom floor. Moved furniture. Flipped mattress and springs. Changed bedding. Unpacked new white-sale pillows. Time WELL spent.
8. Left the afternoon event without staying later to do things and without bringing a slug of things home to do. I never really respect my personal time as I should. Gave myself permission to pick up a small bit of indulgent takeout, and knit that evening. Not too long, though. I went to bed early - an excellent use of my time.
(I type this, of course, to remind myself that I ought to take this kind of time for myelf more often. These are not remarkable things, and perhaps I could hit them a bit more often.)
This Thing About Counting
Three days in. Last things first: unsurprisingly, I should never have given myself this kind of challenge. Not my bag, neither the track-keeping part of counting nor the other part, which is really the first thing, but I'm starting ... Well, you know.
So this counting thing is perhaps crazy making. Counting for activity, fine. I can sing the bottles of whatever songs. I will count like objects in a physical space if I am stuck there and bored. This lovely tendency was reinforced in early grade school when learning that there were significant numbers of objects in church: 12 of these, seven of those, etc., each corresponded to significant songs or groupings of names or sayings or prayers. You get the drift. So I counted instead of fidgeting. It wasn't to remember, though. For remembering numbers, I have to fidget. Rotary dial. Touch tone. I remember those. Bake something repeatedly, and I'll remember proportions. Retain measurements in my head? Only if I'm using them. Remembering a just-taken measurement only long enough to right them down? Three is my limit.
So I may bail on this aspect of the activity. It may just get me down
As for the first part - enjoying or doing or indulging or remarking or taking in a bunch of good things? I may not have enough Pollyanna left in me. We'll see. Stories may trump counted lists. If, of course, there are actual stories.
Will this count?
Fujiyamamama is right. I will need more chocolate.
So this counting thing is perhaps crazy making. Counting for activity, fine. I can sing the bottles of whatever songs. I will count like objects in a physical space if I am stuck there and bored. This lovely tendency was reinforced in early grade school when learning that there were significant numbers of objects in church: 12 of these, seven of those, etc., each corresponded to significant songs or groupings of names or sayings or prayers. You get the drift. So I counted instead of fidgeting. It wasn't to remember, though. For remembering numbers, I have to fidget. Rotary dial. Touch tone. I remember those. Bake something repeatedly, and I'll remember proportions. Retain measurements in my head? Only if I'm using them. Remembering a just-taken measurement only long enough to right them down? Three is my limit.
So I may bail on this aspect of the activity. It may just get me down
As for the first part - enjoying or doing or indulging or remarking or taking in a bunch of good things? I may not have enough Pollyanna left in me. We'll see. Stories may trump counted lists. If, of course, there are actual stories.
Will this count?
Fujiyamamama is right. I will need more chocolate.
15 January 2011
Remarkable gifts - Tucson Tribute on NPR
4. Woke up in time to hear NPR Weekend Edition's Scott Simon share a touching and remarkable tribute to the people of Tucson.
Will try to link it here later, if I can find it.
Remarkable gift, that Scott has.
Remarkable gifts in Tucson, those who are mourned, those who sacrificed or gave aid, those who continue to give, and the community that gathers itself in support.
Will try to link it here later, if I can find it.
Remarkable gift, that Scott has.
Remarkable gifts in Tucson, those who are mourned, those who sacrificed or gave aid, those who continue to give, and the community that gathers itself in support.
14 January 2011
10 Days, 50 Good Things (sorry, Martha, you'll have to share)
So here's the thing: I got my first piece of AARP junk mail just before the New Year.
Responses are mixed: a choreographer friend said "Mazel Tov"; I recycled the junk mail.
This is the week I've dreaded and rehearsed for months. As it happens, it would typically be something I would try to ignore. I wasn't going to entirely hide from it, but I could easily have given it the cold shoulder. Then over dinner with my cousin and a friend a suggestion of a weekend trip to mark the occasion surfaced. While it was an entertaining thought, logistics and timing didn't line up, but we're going to do a nice theatre evening instead. Looking forward to that.
Then tonight I thought of something. I need to treat myself better. In fact, I could do a lot better at that.
I'm giving myself 10 days, wrapping both weekends into the package.
I'm challenging myself to 50 good things. Do them, enjoy them, something.
Tonight begins it. I'm giving myself a proper cozy "early night" Friday night.
1) A somewhat decent spinach pizza
2) A glass or two of Cabernet
3) Knitting time - enough to finish a gift scarf.
Day one begins. Three good things.
I might have a piece of chocolate, but I'll throw that in for free.
Responses are mixed: a choreographer friend said "Mazel Tov"; I recycled the junk mail.
This is the week I've dreaded and rehearsed for months. As it happens, it would typically be something I would try to ignore. I wasn't going to entirely hide from it, but I could easily have given it the cold shoulder. Then over dinner with my cousin and a friend a suggestion of a weekend trip to mark the occasion surfaced. While it was an entertaining thought, logistics and timing didn't line up, but we're going to do a nice theatre evening instead. Looking forward to that.
Then tonight I thought of something. I need to treat myself better. In fact, I could do a lot better at that.
I'm giving myself 10 days, wrapping both weekends into the package.
I'm challenging myself to 50 good things. Do them, enjoy them, something.
Tonight begins it. I'm giving myself a proper cozy "early night" Friday night.
1) A somewhat decent spinach pizza
2) A glass or two of Cabernet
3) Knitting time - enough to finish a gift scarf.
Day one begins. Three good things.
I might have a piece of chocolate, but I'll throw that in for free.
02 January 2011
Beginnings, Middles, and Ends
Happy New Year!
I enjoyed a quiet and relaxed holiday break. I steered clear of obsessing about making ten million things - no Santa's workshop for me this year! Didn't travel - until yesterday, that is - and completely by choice. Stayed away from the workplace for a few days here and a couple days there. Also kept myself away from working, giving myself time to rest and nest a bit. Shopped very little but effectively - a few gifts bought, wrapped, and mailed. Did a little rare wardrobe shopping for myself: walking boots, sale trousers and shirts to replace unwearables which leave home this week. I cleaned a little, mended a little, cooked a little, knit a little, read a little, and socialized a little.
This weekend proved a thoughtful one, notions swirling about beginnings, middles, and ends. I liked reading about mittenfarce's challenge to finish projects and to cast on a fresh start to the year. I read several references to cleaning the decks, the house, the slate. Couldn't find the steam to do the full clean sweep of any particular realm, though, not the home, not the project queue, not the office, the closet, or the slate. At the same time I found myself fascinated by the notion of "starting as you mean to end" - or perhaps to start as I mean to carry on.
The truth is I like all three places. I like the fresh energy of a start. I love the mess, focus, and process of the middle - even if that sometimes gets bogged down by despairing of progress. I'm silly enough to be amused by counting or measuring productive progress and distractable enough to keep from obsessing over the numbers. And like any properly inconsistent human, I love, hate, rejoice, sigh, celebrate, mourn, and mark endings of various stripes.
A good story, it is said, has a clear beginning, middle, and end, however it is packaged.
I confess, I'm not always a linear beginning, middle, and end person. And this is where I find myself at this turn of a year. I rather enjoy that there are so many stories underway. I have beginngs, middles, and ends to tend to. There will be more to come.
I enjoyed a quiet and relaxed holiday break. I steered clear of obsessing about making ten million things - no Santa's workshop for me this year! Didn't travel - until yesterday, that is - and completely by choice. Stayed away from the workplace for a few days here and a couple days there. Also kept myself away from working, giving myself time to rest and nest a bit. Shopped very little but effectively - a few gifts bought, wrapped, and mailed. Did a little rare wardrobe shopping for myself: walking boots, sale trousers and shirts to replace unwearables which leave home this week. I cleaned a little, mended a little, cooked a little, knit a little, read a little, and socialized a little.
This weekend proved a thoughtful one, notions swirling about beginnings, middles, and ends. I liked reading about mittenfarce's challenge to finish projects and to cast on a fresh start to the year. I read several references to cleaning the decks, the house, the slate. Couldn't find the steam to do the full clean sweep of any particular realm, though, not the home, not the project queue, not the office, the closet, or the slate. At the same time I found myself fascinated by the notion of "starting as you mean to end" - or perhaps to start as I mean to carry on.
The truth is I like all three places. I like the fresh energy of a start. I love the mess, focus, and process of the middle - even if that sometimes gets bogged down by despairing of progress. I'm silly enough to be amused by counting or measuring productive progress and distractable enough to keep from obsessing over the numbers. And like any properly inconsistent human, I love, hate, rejoice, sigh, celebrate, mourn, and mark endings of various stripes.
A good story, it is said, has a clear beginning, middle, and end, however it is packaged.
I confess, I'm not always a linear beginning, middle, and end person. And this is where I find myself at this turn of a year. I rather enjoy that there are so many stories underway. I have beginngs, middles, and ends to tend to. There will be more to come.
17 December 2010
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