The light is returning. Proof: When I awoke there was blue sky overhead and sunshine all around. It’s been a gorgeous clear day, all day long.

It’s still 23°F, however.

Dad's scarf makes a fine cat blanket

The furnace quit again this afternoon. Second time in a month. We got it going again, but just in case, we have our eye on the wood piled on the front porch and the fold-out bed in the front room for tonight. I think the cats and the dog would be thrilled if we had to have a camp-out on the sofa bed in front of the wood stove on account of furnace fail.

Don’t Try This At Home, Kids

I am now at the 80% done mark on Nicholas’ Super Secret Gift. Last night, during our evening hang-out-together time, I was positively ITCHING to work on this project. I can’t exactly tell N. to Go Away, not when (a) it’s a tiny, tiny house, and (b) it’s the middle of our evening hang-out time. But I had that ITCH, the one that says I want to work on THAT project and none other.

The Secret Thing Before It Was A Thing

I did The Crazy. I went upstairs, pulled out a pillowcase, came downstairs again, opened the bag containing The Project, dumped the bag’s contents into the pillowcase, sat down, put the pillowcase on my lap, reached into the opening with both hands, and proceeded to try and knit with my hands, and the project, hidden inside the pillowcase.

No, I do not have pictures. How about a random ornament photo instead?

A roadrunner ornament from when I lived in San Diego

Mind you: The Project is two colours, stranded. Worked in the round. On dpns.

Yeah, my pillowcase idea didn’t work so well. The pillowcase kept falling off my hands. Nicholas swears he didn’t catch a single glimpse of what I was working on, but perhaps he is just being nice.

This morning I went into the TV room by myself, giving strict instructions to Nicholas to Stay Away. I finished a big chunk of The Thing. It actually looks like A Thing now. (Too bad y’all have to wait until Christmas to see it, though.)

Heathen’s Greetings

The reason for the season, originally–long before the birth of Jesus–was the return of the sun.

Winter Solstice at Stonehenge

From this day forward over the next several months, we will have more and more daylight hours. One solstice tradition I particularly love is the Sweeping Out The Dark: Start in the corner of your house furthest from the front door, broom in hand. Sweep vigorously towards the door of each room, air-sweeping if you have rugs or lots of things on the floor. Sweep the bad stuff, especially  the Dark, down the hall, out of each room, working your way around each room and throughout the house, until you are standing in front of the entry to the house.

Fling the door open, sweep the entire swirl of dark and bad out into the clean fresh air (you may shout something joyous and triumphant here), and then close the door firmly on the lot. Come inside, lean the broom against a wall in the kitchen, toss some salt at it (to purify it–did you know holy water in the church is blessed with salt and oil?), and then light a candle or turn on a bunch of lights in the house to celebrate and greet the Light.

Still Not Complaining…I Hope

Today I was cranky. I don’t think I actually complained out loud, but manohman, I wanted to. Someone has been pushing my buttons, and I wanted to just have a Good Rant to Nicholas about That Someone (N. can be a great listener), and give That Person a piece of my mind in abstentia.

I didn’t. I thought about the person more than I wanted to today (an old friend used to call this “letting them live rent-free in your head”), and I realized I was getting into a sort of grumpy whirlagig about the whole thing. Apparently, the person is EXCELLENT at pushing my buttons. The person has No Clue this is the case; it’s not even their fault. It’s me, and I know it’s me, and OK, maybe, just maybe the person is pushing other people’s buttons, but I can’t know that and it doesn’t really matter.

What matters is that I am in charge of what I do about my buttons being pushed.

I looked down, and gollyfreakin’moses, I hate it when I look down. Because what I look at is my wrist, and my wrist has this on it:

It says “compassion” on it.

Bloody grumble-arse bracelet talks BACK to me, it does.

I’m now trying to hold this person in my thoughts with compassion, rather than with annoyance.

I’m also trying to hold myself with compassion in this situation, because it’s just about as human as it gets to be annoyed with one’s fellow hooman beans.

Today’s Random Good

Yesterday, we heard from scientists up in Alaska who provided us with details about the existence of Santa’s reindeer.

Today, I thought we ought to give the Jolly Fat Man equal time: A logical proof that Santa Exists based on theoretical physics.

And, just because: An interview with someone who really IS Santa for thousands of people every year.

Thanks to each and every one of you who has been Light for me this past season…

About sandi

Knitter. Spinner. Quilter. UFO Wrangler. Sometime bead artist and weaver. Two toddler-age kittens, 1 permakitten, 2 grownup cats, 1 beloved dog angel, 1 spouse, 1 crazy life. I suppose that the 5 cats make me 1 crazy cat lady; OTOH, apparently, yes, I do need that much feline supervision.
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10 Responses to solstice

  1. april says:

    I worked up a pair of socks for my DH right in front of him and he just assumed they were for me. When I gave them to him as a gift he said “did I see you working on these?” i just laughed.

    i like the falling snow on your blog.:)

  2. Rachel says:

    If you ever start to wonder again if anyone is out there and if anything you say has meaning to anyone….


    “What matters is that I am in charge of what I do about my buttons being pushed.”

    this is the discussion I had with my therapist today about how I am allowing the button pushing and reacting to it.

    and your bracelet — yes, I need one of those. I have been told my talent is compassion but some days it is sorely lacking and I need a reminder.

    As I have not yet done so, I wish you and Sir N and the furry people inhabiting your home and happy and merry Christmas.

  3. Lynn says:

    Uh-oh. I hope I’m not pushing your buttons!

  4. molly says:

    isn’t it wonderful to welcome the sun back? i do like the idea that you can sweep out the dark and nasty and let the light back in…
    i have so enjoyed your daily posts this month. thank you for taking the time to make them. i am sad that they may not continue so regularly – but i’m just being greedy!
    and sir n. seems to be more observant than anyone around my house. i just knit away in front of them and they never notice what i’m working on – a very useful state of affairs, particularly at this time of year!
    cheers to you and yours!

  5. The pillowcase thing, love it! I had to lock myself in my studio for secret projects today.

  6. Natalie says:

    Sorry to hear about the button pushing. I was having whole button pushing conversations in my head in the grocery store today before I realized it the comments I was reacting to hadn’t even happened yet & that I need to handle it better if it does happen. Yikes.

  7. Heather says:

    *Hugs* from Daisy and DaisysMom

  8. Karen says:

    I just read this and thought of you…….”enthusiasm is half of the journey to success, and all of the journey to joy”.

    Enthusiasm you have, of that I am sure.

  9. Sharon says:

    Heathens Greetings to you too! I’ve never swept out the darkness, but I do turn on lights. I used to light candles, but that’s out of the question now. Our Dylan is a black and white tuxie who is a lot like your Tim when it comes to curiousness and having to know what’s going on. Dylan singed his whiskers during the last power failure because he couldn’t resist checking out the candle lighting the kitchen. So I make do with strings of lights, which (touch wood) he has never tried to chew. But thanks for the hot sauce hint.

    I sympathize about the furnace failure. We have fairly frequent power outages and it gets darn cold, even out here on the ‘warmer’ west coast. It’s because it’s a wet, not a dry, cold.

    Finally, thank you for writing this blog! I may not add comments often, but I look forward to it every day.

  10. Pat says:

    I’ve tried knitting in the dark (long car rides) and have never been pleased with the results (frogging resulted) it’s very similar to sewing when tired (more ripping out than actual sewing. Nice and inventive try, however.

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