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Motion and Progress

Some people focus on the journey - others, the destination. I'm a journey girl, myself. I will not only stop and smell the roses, I will also take a picture and sit down on the ground to write a poem about them (yes, trying to go on a walk with me is like going on a walk with a three year old). But both of those, journey and destination, imply motion - after the roses have been enjoyed to their fullest extent, I'd like to continue on down the path.

Then, during IF:Gathering, I had a vision of sorts (I say "of sorts" because while I do not doubt that such things happen to others, nor do I discount them when they do, I personally prefer to keep my feet planted firmly on the sandy shore of quantifiable reality, rather than dipping my toes into the ocean of everything-I-don't-know-or-understand). It started at the top of a hill, overlooking a fertile valley. The grass was long and soft and plentifully sprinkled with wild flowers, and a river curved and coiled down below. I ran like a child, running my hands along the top of the grass, feeling the wind on my face and my skirt swishing softly against my legs.

There was a sense of freedom - no paths marred the vast field, simply an open haven that stretched in every direction. And there was an invitation - an invitation to step off the path and enjoy the valley for awhile. Not the "valley of the shadow," but the one with green pastures and still waters, that restores the soul. A place to stop rolling and maybe even to gather a little moss.

That idea is alternately restful and horrifying, as I wrestle through the difference between motion and progress. My activist nature embraces motion, sometimes without pausing to distinguish whether motion is, in fact, necessary or beneficial - but my inner introvert is perfectly happy to make another cup of tea to drink while unpacking another box, marking progress sip by sip.

2675. A (successful) quest for cute cabinet knobs
2676. The previous home owners leaving us a variety of paint, some of which works perfectly for my project 
2677. Brooklyn sweetly suggesting that we go to Green Corner Store for ice cream
2678. All the wonderful things a box can be
2679. Painting the front door "Fiji" blue
2680. Sitting on a curb with Brooklyn at a food truck rally, eating tacos


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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?
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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…