Skip to main content


Cold dank days make me want to curl up in front of a space heater with a cup of hot vanilla and pretend that nothing exists outside of the warm little cave that I've created.

So, that's what we did. (It's such a blessing to have an opportunity to spend a day doing whatever we'd like!) Brooklyn had her breakfast of rice, and I had the last slice of gluten free/dairy free banana bread that Carolyn sweetly baked - and then she and I spent the rest of the day holed up in Brooklyn's room (where the space heater is).

Progress was made on the Christmas knitting - just a few more inches to go, and this project goes oddly fast (for being 140 stitches around). Then I have a couple of smaller projects, which should go even more quickly!

And since I had knitting on the brain, I did a little sketching for a possible design. Think "frost-touched fallen leaves." I'm still trying to decide if that concept would look better in a leafy golden-brown, or in an icy blue-grey.

I also took pictures of Brooklyn, since we were both laying on the floor and I had the camera and all...

...lots and lots of pictures. She just kept being cute! I couldn't help it. And most of the pics I have of her are slightly grainy iPhone photos, so I thought it might be nice to get some with Adam's camera.

Once her Taggie-bear, crinkly triangle, Sophie giraffe, and Oball ceased to be entertaining (Sophie actually became offensive), we read some of her books --- which put her to sleep, I read some of mine, and journalled a bit. There was also an intermission in which Mum came by with cookies (and a couple of grocery items that I had asked for, since she offered and I wasn't leaving the house today) and I taught her how to play SkipBo, but the camera was in Brooklyn's room and she was asleep, so I didn't get any pictures of that. :)

So (not that you were probably wondering) that was how I chose to spend a chilly day. How about you - if you could do anything with a cold wintery day, what would it be?


Popular posts from this blog

31 Days of Unraveling Designs

It's that time of year again... the 31 Days writing challenge starts today! Bloggers from all over will be writing every day of the month of October on the topic of their choosing. This will be my fourth year participating - the first year I did 7 for 31, and spent a month going through Jen Hatmaker's book 7. The second year I did 31 Days of Sustainable Dwelling, and wrote about local and fair trade living. Last year I was busy but still wanted to participate, so I went the easy route with 31 Days of Everyday Beautiful.

This year I'm diving into my greatest passion: knitting! I'll spend this month looking at past designs and talking about the inspiration behind them, so there will be plenty of regular life mixed in with the stitching - and there may be discount codes for the patterns that I write about. You'll just have to read and see!

Pattern index:

Pageturner Mitts
Hogwarts House Tie
Urban Artemis
Graffiti for Humanity
Love Out Loud
Strange Jacket


In order to change your knitting, you must first change yourself. I've lost track of how many times I've said that, or how many people I've said it to. Frustrated new knitters wondering why their work is loose or tight or uneven or really anything less than perfect. But something I love about knitting is that it's a record of your inner dialogue. That swatch knit at the yarn store table with a cozy cup of coffee and a helpful (and more experienced) knitter nearby is going to be a lot more relaxed than the sweater begun a week later while sitting next to a hospital bed - just like the knitter.

Unfortunately, this also applies to my own knitting. For years, I was apparently unaffected by the shifts and turmoils in my own life, so I assumed that I was exempt from the rule - when the reality was, in fact, that I wasn't really experiencing any of those on anything deeper than a surface level because everything was deadened by depression. When I finally started to really…


A few years ago, I was introduced to the concept of replacing the traditional list of resolutions with a single word. It appealed to me - I am not a big list person, but I love language and words and meanings and etymology and metaphor and... ahem. Ennyhoo. I liked the idea.
I've never chosen the word. It's always presented itself to me - and last year was no different. Pacific was very insistent, even though I tried to argue with it. Pacific? What does that even mean? What am I supposed to do with that?
But I accepted it, and I'm glad I did. I learned about depth and calm, about storm and nurture, about faith and adventure - and about the unstoppable ocean of God's grace, that overwhelms to fill and cleanse and bring blessings unasked.
So I'm bidding pacific a very fond farewell, and welcoming spark and whatever lessons it would like to bring. I invited it in with a copper wire punctuated with tiny lights and wrapped around my mood board, and I've got an empt…