resolutions

No card-making-photos today. No time. Instead, here's a 2011 New Year's Resolution link, with some very interesting resolutions. I've actually made some of those resolutions myself at different times of my life, during different times of the year. I'm not even sure at this point how I feel about New Year's resolutions. Still, it's something to think about, with the New Year fast approaching...

card making project {2}

Eva and I finally did our holiday card project. Tonight.



Here she is getting all set up for it.

I'll post a picture of the finished cards tomorrow after they have dried. There is an awful lot of glue and glitter and such that needs to sit still awhile before we photograph. And- while I swept up as much glitter as I could, I'm sure there will be quite a bit of glitter around the house for a while, such is the way of glitter. But that doesn't bother me. It's the tension of the actual project that bothers me.

I wish I could say that making the cards was fun. At least Eva said she had fun afterward. And during, I think. She said she loves doing projects like this with me. So that's something, at least. And I did calm down after a while. I relaxed. But I have to say this type of project triggers all that is stressful and tense in me and suddenly nothing that I can do looks quite right. Or turns out. I talked myself down, though, and managed to pull it together to play a bit with Eva and by the end I was mostly fine with the project and even managed to enjoy myself for some of it. Good grief. At least it seems like that now, in retrospect. And when I look at some of the cards, I definitely have a positive memory associated with them, so that's another something.

Still, I had to take so many deep breaths during and after and I feel like I am still recovering from the project a full 1/2 to an hour later, even after clean up. I'm not exactly sure what this is all about but I have a feeling that throwing myself into a few more projects like this- with Eva- just for the project's sake {and the connection time} could help quite a bit.

As it turns out, we may not even send out any of the cards. Eva hadn't wanted to send out any of the cards that only she worked on and I was fine with that. Now she wants to keep my cards as well, which I guess I shouldn't be surprised by. I don't know what I thought was going to happen. Did I think I would smuggle the cards out of the house without her noticing? Still, I think we can come up with a nice way to set them up so we can enjoy them over the next couple of weeks, whether we end up sending any of them or not.

And, as tense as the project was, I am glad I did the project. I'm glad I got the idea and shared it with Eva and made up the list. I'm glad we bought crafty goodness and put it all together, together. I'm glad Eva enjoyed herself and I'm glad I made the time for that type of connection with her. And I'm glad it's all over. Until next time, when I hope it's not quite as bad. Practice makes perfect, as they say. Or how about practice relaxes. Practice makes deep breathing second nature. Practice makes comfortable. And the like...

knitting woes

I'm about 3/4 of the way done with a hat I have been working on (more hats = more head warmth = more health. or something like that.) and I ran out of yarn. Yikes. It definitely happens. I was surprised this time, though, because I thought I had enough. {grin} To be fair, I *did* change the gauge from the one in the pattern and that is most likely what did it. So- I was upset and in yarn-crisis-mode, calling around to yarn shops in the area because, of course, the Knitting Bee, where I had bought the original skein (and which is one of my two main yarn shops), was out. {It was gorgeous yarn, after all. And the holidays. Etcetera.}

I wasn't really freaking out, just, you know, a little louder than usual. Definitely dismayed. And that was clearly conveyed in both my phone conversations and in my self-talk as I mumbled around the kitchen about my hat.

While all of this was going on, Eva wandered into the kitchen and said in an incredibly nonchalant voice, "What's going on? Out of yarn?"

And then me, sadly, looking up, "Yes. For the hat I'm working on."

And then her, "Sorry." Sad face. She understands.

Then she wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room where Samuel was sitting and she said to him something like, "All of that over some yarn."

And Samuel chuckled and said, "Yeah, I know. Crazy, huh?"

And then Eva, "Yeah. Crazy."

And then me, chuckling in the kitchen. It was one of the few good moments between them this whole week and hey, if they can bond and feel good over my yarn woes, so much the better. I knew there had to be a fortunately in there somewhere. (Oh- and I found a place that had two more skeins in stock. And all I need is one. So we'll be going there tomorrow. And I'll get to check out a new yarn shop.)

We are well into Tom Sawyer but I wanted to post a quote from the last book we finished, the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg. We enjoyed the book although neither kids were thrilled with the Claudia character. Let's just say that if she homeschooled in Portland, we would most likely not be seeing her on a regular basis, but she might show up at a museum day or a play we were going to and the like. We'd definitely recognize her, that's for sure.

I really enjoyed the way Konigsburg wrapped up the story and sent the kids home, making their time away seem so much longer than it actually was, and giving us a better understanding of why Claudia had wanted to run away in the first place.

During their time at the museum, the two kids spent time each day learning about different exhibits, a very unschooly thing to do in some ways, in other ways not so much. I love this quote at the end that gives a nod to the time in-between learning, the down time, the transition, the rest. (See yesterday's post winter expansion to follow my flow here about growth and rest...)

"Claudia said, 'But, Mrs. Frankweiler, you should want to learn one new thing every day. We did even at the museum.'

'No,' I answered, 'I don't agree with that. I think you should learn, of course, and some days you must learn a great deal. But you should also have days when you allow what is already in you to swell up inside of you until it touches everything. And you can feel it inside you. If you never take time out to let that happen, then you just accumulate facts, and they begin to rattle around inside of you. You can make noise with them, but never really feel anything with them. It's hollow.'"

winter expansion

When I took the compost out to the compost bin this afternoon, I noticed the buds beginning to form on the maple tree. Buds that will become flowers and bloom sometime at the end of January or into February, if I am remembering correctly. Maybe a little later? I don't think it's all the way into March but right now I can't be completely sure and I don't want to take the time to look it up. (OK- I looked it up. Looks like our maple is one of the first maples to bloom, which could mean as early as mid-February {or early March} here, what with our mild climate...)

I was reminded again of how much growth actually occurs- is often prepared for- during times of rest. Think of it. Our maple has just barely lost all of her leaves and is already replacing them with small buds. Readying for expansion even in the midst of winter (well, autumn. but nearly winter. that whole transition thing, and all.). This came as an even more poignant thought to me today {than it otherwise might have, although let's be honest here, i am fairly prone to poignancy most of the time.} because I am currently sick- sick enough to need quite a bit more rest than I had initially planned for this week. And I was surprised by it. The illness surprised me. I didn't think I was getting sick until I was already sick. No amount of hat-wearing and kombucha drinking were able to ward off this illness. Not this time.

But that's OK. For the most part. That's what I'm trying to say. And- that- while being sick is certainly not my preference, there is a particular quality of epiphany and understanding that can come from this state, that seems to be born from it. That I am privy to *only* when I am this sick. If I allow it.

And I'm not saying I want to stay ill. Or that we can't understand things {other things} when we feel healthier. I wouldn't want to quantify it in that way. Or compare. Just that this morning I recognized this certain bit of illness wisdom and was happy for it. And decided again- always again- to not push against the virus or my body, but to do what they both asked for. To take care. To rest. To be sick. And to listen to the wisdom that can only be found therein.

boxes

So the Christmas gifts are arriving and I have been doing my best to wrap them and put them up on a high shelf inside a box that no one can see into and mostly don't care about because it looks so normal. But then today two very large boxes showed up and I need to do some camouflage or some such on those two boxes because some people in the house (not me, I already know) are interested in them and their contents. My stance on this- because *I* was told when I was a kid that if I looked at anything, everything would be sent back- is to tell the kids that if they look, they simply won't be surprised on Christmas. Still, I like to help out with that in any way that I can and not leave things lying around to test or trap or teach lessons about. It's supposed to be fun, after all.

These boxes are particularly disturbing because there are things- toys- found therein that certain children in my house have said they no longer want. They changed their list. After some things were already ordered. Only they don't know. And I intend to return those unwanted things before anyone is the wiser. But first, I have to open the boxes, wrap and hide what I am going to keep. Then, I have to box up what I am sending back and get rid of it- soon. But those are extra steps and I am sure will invite extra questions. Plus, one of the boxes will rattle if shaken, which will give away the contents. Possibly. And on and on. So now, while the oldest child has been talked into taking a bath! I am going to go and figure out what to keep and what to send back and what to order in its place. Which seems like a pretty straightforward plan, at least in theory. Wish me luck. I thought I was done.

December

I spent some of the morning before my kids woke up reading quotes about the month of December. I expected some of the drearier quotes- the ones that focused on the lack of flowers and sunshine {and truly this *is* one aspect, I don't deny it. but only one aspect, not all aspects...}- but was thoroughly delighted? (an underused word that brings to mind other underused words, poetry, maidens dancing and the like...) to find so much poetry and many thoughts reflecting on the beauty to be found in this seemingly quiet month. Many of the quotes focused on the holidays at the end of the month {true}, but many others spoke of the cold still winter season and the grace found within. This one by Wallace Stevens was one of my favorites. I didn't think I usually liked him. Either way, I may have to revise my opinion of him after this poem-

"One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is."
- Wallace Stevens, Snow Man