Winter Knitting

Oh my goodness, but this is a long book. I stopped by the library today to renew it. I didn't expect to take so long to get through it. But it seems fitting, since I picked it up during the coldest part of winter--it has been so bitter these past few weeks. This book unfolds in a way that is vast and majestic--a particular sort of movement that is well suited to magical realism, I think, although that genre can also be smart and zippy--so it is hard to zip through, but I am certainly enjoying it. I'm hoping to finish it this week ... and maybe it will mean the end of winter? (Yes, friends, winter is still here and strong because I am reading this book. I am sorry.)

These socks. Today is my brother's birthday, and I'd hoped to hand them to him today. It would totally be possible if the kids slept for another two hours. But they have been in bed two hours already and are ready to get up. Sorry, Anthony!

Linking up with Ginny.

Ordinary Time

I've seen the word "hibernate" floating around the internet a lot this winter. I guess that's kind of what we've been doing--laying close to home, living life quietly. Ordinary Time, as the Church in her wisdom has given us. 

Keith takes the four-wheel-drive car to work, so there are times when I can't get up the small hill and out of our icy driveway. And it's been bitter cold and I've been reluctant to take the kids out anyway. 

Perhaps because I've been indoors so much, I've lately gotten a familiar itch--the desire to change something, to tackle a project in our home. More specifically, I really want to do something in the kitchen. Since redoing the walls and cabinets are not on the radar right now, I've settled for finishing this Ikea kitchen cart.

It still needs another coat of two of turquoise paint. I'm not sure I like it. It wanted something intense, but not necessarily this bright. I may buy a can of something darker, more peacock-colored. What do you think?

I am pretty proud of the staining! Of course, the babies found a paint stick with not-quiet-dried primer on it and tracked it all over the kitchen and dining room floor (and left a handprint on my stained shelves), resulting in some frantic scrubbing and our first call to the Mr. Yuck poison center. But all's well that end's well!

I've also slowly been emptying the freezer of yarn, baking it at a low temperature in the oven to kill any eggs. I have two ovens, so I can also bake bread or roast something for dinner at the same time. Which works out great in theory; not so much when, in practice, you turn the wrong oven on to 375 degrees and fill your kitchen with the smell of burning wool! I am a little sad; that yarn was meant for a lovely sweater. 

So far I've been pulling out yarn that I think was unaffected by moths; I am screwing myself up to be more ruthless when I reach the back of the freezer and the wool I know was eaten, lived in, and otherwise infested. Much as it will be hard to part with that yarn, I will hate myself if I keep it and end up having a brand new infestation because of it. Part of me wants to keep the it in the freezer forever because then ... I still have it. But it is time to let go. 

 And while I do this quiet work, the boys enjoy playing upstairs. All they really ask is a Mama to be their audience. :)

Quiet

I could get lost in that tangle of snowy branches for hours.

This morning my children all slept in late while I consumed two cups of coffee and took a shower (!). Michael was the first to get up. Usually he is the last.

I brought him downstairs with me, and we sat on the couch together--he under the blue blankie I knit for him before he was born, me under a blue wool blanket given to us as a wedding gift, and he very delighted that we matched--and we simply watched the snow falling for a little bit, just the two of us.

(There is 2-3 feet out there! I promised him that later today we'd take him out and put him in it to see how tall it was.)


I was trying to figure out what it was about winter light that is so lovely, aside perhaps from its scarcity. I mean the light that comes inside when there is snow on the ground like this. I usually love warm light, but the snow-light is much cooler. I think it is that it comes from all around--up from the ground as well as from the sky--that makes it especially lovely. Soft light that falls from every angle. It is one of the reasons why I love (and very rarely complain about) snow--if we're to have winter, then let's have the beauty of it!

(Although the repairman who's been working on our bathroom might disagree with me. I imagine we are paying him for the time he's spent shoveling his way out of our driveway. If it didn't seem rude I would remind him to press the gas pedal gently like he's walking on eggshells, not to floor it and dig himself further in ... as Keith so often reminds me. :) )