Since I am such a stellar blogger the past few months, I thought I'd do one now in case I don't get back here until after Christmas and New Year!
I knit something for a pattern, which is something like a miracle lately. But then it's Christmastime.These are called Dresden Green Socks (so far, although the company who owns the pattern could change their minds and cal them something completely different). I did them for Clover-USA to help promote their long circulars, of which I am a fan. Anyone who's taken a class with me knows how smitten I am with Clover's locking ring stitch markers and their bent-foot seaming needles. I also like using their circs. Although a stainless girl most of the time, I occasionally venture into wood or bamboo. I've got their circs in 47" lengths down to a US0. They've stood up to my abuse unbelievably well for a wooden needle, and I am impressed. I did a little bit in the new book that reviewed needles, and I wish now that I'd had some of these on hand when I did so that I could have added them to the mix, because really they've made me very happy. I think the pattern will be available at TNNA, but I am not 100 percent certain of that.
I just put them first so you'd know that yes, I do still knit. In fact I have a few other things floating around here that I can't share. It's Christmas, people. My family reads my blog. So if I were knitting for someone and I put it here, well. Then you'd all know about it, and so would they. That doesn't work for me.
So we'll flip to holiday decor and memories now. I've been musing a lot on my kids when they were small. I think it started with this - which they've tried to wrest from my maternal grasp for years now.
Made with a half a sheet of poster board, crepe and construction paper, some wool, a bead, a pipe cleaner, and a bit of tin foil and glitter, it's probably the dearest part of Christmas for me. I love taking it out of the bin, finding a safe place for it, and staring at it all season long. I remember when we made it, their chubby baby hands struggling with scissors and glue caps, laughing, spotting my house with glitter that remained like warm memories for months after. The first year they were proud of it. The second year the glow began to fade. By the third, fourth and fifth year they were actively attempting to hide it. It's now, I'd guess, about 18 years old. So much changes in 18 years.
When I was 18, I had a baby. And he grew. He grew and he grew. And he became a man. Now, at 23, he's a father. It's the cyclical nature, the way things come around and go around, about life that always awes me. The baby becomes the woman becomes the mother, and hands her child to him, he who was the baby such a long and such a short time ago.For now she's the baby, Miss April is. And here, just two years ago, I announced her birth. Two very short years.Last night as I was going to bed I retrieved my cell phone to pop it on the charger and I found a message from that baby. She said "Goodnight, Omie! I love you, Omie! Goodbye, Omie!" Two years. She grew and she grew, until she became a toddler. I can't wait to see who she becomes. But a part of me sometimes wishes she were still the little bundle I cuddled 2 years ago. And sometimes I wish he were the bundle I cuddled 23 years ago, and Girl were the bundle I cuddled 21 years ago. But they aren't, can't be, never will be again. That's good. I think. Yes, it's good.
Lots of things grow around here. For example, chicken eggs grow. Sometimes dramatically. In the eleven years I've kept birds I have never had an egg this big.Three inches long from stem to stern, with two big yolks inside, as if she'd been saving up, and maybe she had been. This came out of my older Americauna hen. She's reverted to type and is laying proper sized eggs now, but for three days we got eggs progressively larger until this one popped out. Imagine that, from human perspective - that's like giving birth to one of those crazy 18 pounders, every day, for three days in a row. Yowza.
This weekend the birds will move into their new digs.But don't call it a chicken house, at least not near Mr. Wonderful. This, my friends and faithful readers, is a Solar Barn in which non-pooping chickens may be allowed to stay. He's put them on notice. No pooping in the solar barn. You keep telling them, honey. I know they hear you, and of course will obey.
The tree is kind of odd this year. Well, not odd exactly, but not the typical MMO et al type of tree. Every few years I get theme-y. I had more planned for this tree theme, but haven't gotten it done. So we go with these guyssheep from Malea's Pottery pasture, simple gold balls, and white lights. That's it. And I love it.I love the simplicity of it.
And so I give you my wish for your Christmas. May your holiday be filled with simple pleasures and heartwarming treasures (both old, of crepe and glitter, and new, of flesh and bone and ringlets), and love and laughter and joy and peace.