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Wishing you warmth, hope and joy this winter solstice.

i've been...

I've been thrumming.  Pulling bits of unspun wool with my stitches to create a 'cozy nest' inside mittens - a necessity for this time of year. 

I've been wrapping.  Handmade gifts to ship to friends and family afar.

I've been snacking.  The ultra-lazy version of Leslie's most recent batch goes something like this:  grab a spoon, scoop out some peanut (or cashew, or almond) butter, sprinkle generously with chocolate chips, enjoy.  Okay, not nearly as pretty as the real thing, but these are just my speed this week. 

And I've been wishing.  The cat unwrapped some gifts from under the tree last night.  One was this felted wishing rock from my sister.  Isn't it great?  I've been wishing specifically for some slowness amidst the chaos, a return to wellness for my little family who has struggled with all variety of bugs these past few days, and a relaxing weekend.  I wish you a festive and fun weekend, my friends.

circle round (again)

Tonight I finally got to the pile of pine boughs on the porch -- the ones that have been waiting for almost two weeks to become a wreath.  As I snipped and bunched greenery, I thought of a wreath making story I shared here two years ago.  It's one of my favorite stories of the season, so I thought it only fitting to dig into the archives to share it again:

For the last six years I've made a solstice wreath for our front door.  A bit of greenery in the grayest of days; a reminder of the green days before and those ahead.  A symbol of the wheel of the year, the turning of the seasons.  A circle like that of the sun. 

Last year we gathered the pine boughs from a nearby forest, carefully snipping little wayward bits from many trees over many acres.  We set out today to do the same and instead happened upon a grove of trees that had been topped within the last few days.  Pines chopped at their midsections by some careless and greedy person.  From the branches strewn about, we picked up just enough boughs for a wreath. 

Back at the lake, I gathered a few bunches of berries from the numerous Mountain Ash trees that dot the shore.  Berries from a tree that symbolizes protection.  Protection from the cold, from the long dark days ahead. 

Weaving wreaths, I can not help but remember the winter my mother and her friend decided that they'd make wreaths for every window and door of their houses and barns.  Dozens of wreaths.  And if that wasn't enough, they vowed to hang them all as soon as the Thanksgiving dishes were washed so that when the sun rose on the first day of the Christmas holiday season, their homes would be festooned with holiday cheer.  All of this was to outdo (or at least surprise) the flamboyant neighbor who was the belle of the local holiday home tour.  In the days leading up to the unveiling, Mom and her friend trekked out to the woods to gather pine boughs -- forgetting twine to bind the branches for carrying, so that they ended up fashioning bungee cords from their bras to carry mammoth piles home to the clandestine wreath assembly line that had taken over the basement of our barn. 

I don't remember the reaction of the neighbor that Friday morning; but green florist wire, brisk air, and the scent of pine boughs mixed with leather gloves will always conjure up the image of my creative and spirited mother getting a complete kick out of making stuff with her friends.  I remember as a twelve-year-old thinking they were absolutely nuts.  But now, I completely understand.

crafting tradition

The holiday crafting has begun.  The porch smells of pine boughs to be woven into a wreath.  The girl and her dad have been busy with paper and glue.  Last night, I pushed roving into handmade wool felt with a needle,thinking of the return of the sun.  I like the crafting of tradition for our family, and too, the old crafts that we're turning to as we weave these new traditions.

december bits

Today I spent the morning in the office, and then snuck out for a hike and a shopping run.  The trail seemed odd, all muddied and crisscrossed by ribbons of water.  Like October or April.  Definitely not December.  But there was no doubting the season while erranding.  Candy canes came home in my bag; jingle bells came home in my head.  Another box of satsumas ended up in the shopping cart as well.  I swear they're better than clementines.

Did you hear?  There's a reunion of sorts happening over at habit.  Emily and Molly have invited all of the guests from the year to gather together to share slices of their days through the month of December.  I feel honored to be amongst such talented and inspiring women, and too, excited to see the month unfold through the collection of our words and images.  Do visit.

tonight

Tonight I wished for a yarn swift and ball winder.  I then stood in the dining room with a hank of yarn pulled between the backs of two chairs and wound two hundred and twenty yards while witnessing the girl and her dad don headlamps, pull on rainboots and head outside to put the garden hoses to sleep for the winter.  The spigot is just below the window so I could hear them chattering about 'old man winter' and could see the light from their lamps bouncing about.  Had I had a swift, I'd have been done with my work before theirs began.  I'm grateful for the unexpected gifts that are born from simplicity.

The yarn is the last skein for the blue ruche.  I'm close to finishing it, and I'm almost certain I've found the perfect buttons.  It's a good thing, as I have some holiday knitting lined up that needs some attention.  I don't think I'm capable of adding a stitch to another project until I'm wearing this one.

food revelry

I've been waiting for words to come to me about the meal I enjoyed immensely while in Athens, Georgia last month.  And even though I've been surrounded by food and food issues and food opportunity and food celebration recently, I still have no words for Farm 255 that will do the experience justice. 

Let's just say they celebrate pickles, and arrange flowers in mason jars, and cook supper from foods they grow and animals they raise.  Let's also say that I wanted to try everything on their menu.  And it may have been the best meal I've eaten (and this is saying a lot).  And that's really only a smidgen of it.  They do a better job at summing up what they're all about. If you find yourself anywhere in the greater Atlanta area, go to Farm 255.  It will be worth it; I promise.

Other food notes... Emily's pumpkin muffins can be made wheat-free by substituting the flours directly with barley flour (they'll still be gluten-full, but barley is an excellent wheat alternative).  And, I'm so very grateful for J and his cooking prowess.  Tonight I came home to a for-no-particular-reason midweek feast of foods grown and raised in the area.  Coq au vin with button mushrooms and bacon; a mash of russets, rutabagas and leeks; and steamed winterbor kale.  I'm a lucky girl in so many ways.

blue ruche

Whilst wandering through ravelry’s new patterns last week I found the answer to my February lady sweater dilemma.  Ages ago, I bought the yarn and started the knitting the infamous cardigan.  While I love the sweater on others, I quickly realized that I wasn't at all loving the making of the sweater for myself.  The project was abandoned.  And then the tea leaves cardigan appeared. 

It's simple and lovely and the kind of sweater I will want to wear every day.  I bought the pattern in an instant, and then sat on pins until I could get home to my needles.  The new project has been with me ever since.  I’ve been sneaking stitches all over the place… in taxis, planes and cars; at the playground and the park; in meetings and workshops; during movies and games of bingo. 

I’ve made it through the ruched section and am on to the stockinette.  I quite like the top down approach, as I don’t have to anticipate a more complex yoke ahead.  I also like that I now have a simple project that I can steal away to here and there.  The world seems to be running by at a feverish pace, and I realize just how much I need a little something to remind me to breathe.

a treat

The big lake near my home is like a sea in so many ways, but it's not a substitute for the real thing.  When I saw that it was going to be warm in South Carolina this weekend, I packed our swimsuits.  I never imagined it would be warm enough to swim, but it was.  Halloween delivered tidal pools and seashells; back floating in the waves and sand between the toes.  The best treats, really.

october morning

This morning we walked through the woods, across the dunes and along the shore.  I can't imagine living far from the beach.