The snow came down and down on Christmas morning. Then there was sun. The herd of juncos had a junco party at the birdfeeder. I think their usual food sources look different now.
The cardinal showed up intermittently to let them know who is the real boss. The chickadees are fierce. Everything is white and icy and tinkly. Now I have to go look for the hat.
I knit shawl after shawl. A rare sweater appears. (Brando is done and I owe you pictures. I have worn it twice, and will discuss the outcome.) I stopped knitting scarves because I had some. That was dumb. A knitter gets bored with the old, sifts through the drawers, rejects the finds, and thinks about knitting a new scarf for herself. But what I really need? More hats.
I blogged a year ago about the Irish Braid hat. Indeed, it was finished soon after the post. Indeed, the post flogged me into finishing it. I do love it, and have forgiven the graft. This is my second Swans Island yarn project. LOVE the yarn, and love the FOs.
New Year's always seems to be focused on a new year. It was also my thirteenth blogiversary. The years seem to blow past with a whisper. I would like that to not happen quite so much.
In 2015, my word was PRESENCE. In 2016, I used RESILIENCE. Both changed how I see and experience. I did not have a 2017 word. My blog buddies persuaded me that a word for 2018 would be a good thing.
Nothing came immediately to mind. It needs to be something actionable, that one can DO rather than just think. And I found it. PATIENCE. This can change how I see and experience. The action is a deep, slow, quiet breath when I am impatient and irritated. I find I am doing that often. :(
So rather than be a sad emoji that I am doing this often, I will look at it with patience. A FB meme about people doing stuff for 100 days with deliberate practice also forces the realization that nothing happens overnight.
And so the year begins.