Skip to main content


I know that a lot of people dislike glitter - the way it multiplies and gets all over everything and continues to be found, weeks later, grates on their nerves; but it's those qualities that I treasure. The tiny glimmer that unexpectedly appears, long after the wrapping or card that it was a part of is gone, serve as a reminder of the joy the original brought.

You know how some people leave their tree up and decorate it for Valentine's Day because they don't want to take it down? I'm the same way about pumpkins.

This year, it's also standing in nicely for snow, of which there is none. It thunderstormed warmly and gloriously yesterday, and I think our high for the day after Christmas is predicted to be nearly 80 - but if I can muster a Christmas hike instead of a Christmas snowball fight I certainly won't complain. Knitter though I am, I'm also acclimated to the South.

And the weather can't dampen another of glitter's attributes: remembering. Every time one of those flecks catches the light, and my eye, it also sparks my memory. All the warmth of the occasion floods back, and since I stopped getting glitter-crusted birthday cards when I was about 7, most of my glittering memories revolve around Christmas - a fitting reminder of Light, born small and hidden away in a stable, but born to bring great joy.

2249. The longest night - and a brighter tomorrow
2250. Brooklyn emotionally preparing a new doll for the experience of going outside
2251. New tea in a pretty mug
2252. A reasonably trauma-free trip to Camp Robinson for a new military ID
2253. Getting cold knitting on the balcony, then warming up with a book and a bath
2254. Tobin continuing to eat well and noticeably gaining weight
2255. The amaryllis growing half an inch a day
2256. A gloriously stormy morning
2257. that cleared off in time for us to get groceries before lunch/naps


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…