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The Sound of Silence

The thing I find most draining about solo kid duty is the being "all on" all the time. Whether they're awake or asleep, and whether I'm awake or asleep, I always have one eye and one ear assigned to ensuring that everyone is taken care of and not in imminent danger.

My introversion counts down until naptime, when I can eat my lunch in peace and maybe engage in a refreshing ritual like knitting or having tea. But a few days ago, neither of slept - they both "practiced peace," instead, which sounded like two small voices loudly recounting the day so far, in two separate rooms. In a moment of inspired desperation, I put Simon and Garfunkel's song The Sound of Silence on repeat, and was surprised by the peace it brought.

I love my Littles. I love going on errands and adventures with them - I love snuggles and walks and talks and reading aloud and sipping imaginary tea, carried so carefully to prevent imaginary spills - I love seeing Brooklyn's face light up when she suggests something fun and I say yes.

But all of that input needs to be poured out at some point. Every word, touch, event, and encounter is a rock and by the end of the day I can barely walk with the weight in my soul's sagging pockets.

So I set aside space - clearing a literal space where I can sit comfortably and look up without seeing anything that needs to be done to distract me (even if that means facing a window or a corner), as well as a figurative space; stewarding the time I have after they're in bed, doing tasks one at a time and leaving things for tomorrow, making sure that creation as well as consumption is a part of my nightly routine... and then sitting down to breathe in the actual sound of silence.

2737. Tobin's fever breaking (oh, teeth)
2738. Finding a tiny park, just Brooklyn's size
2739. Reading in a pretty chair
2740. Dressing up to go grocery shopping, just because
2741. Crafting while it rained all afternoon
2742. Sweet Tobin snuggles


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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


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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…