The Power of Yes

Greetings, Gentle Readers, and a belated Happy New Year! Along with health, prosperity and yarn, in 2022 I wish for you something I’ve newly rediscovered: The magic and power of simply saying “Yes”.

I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions. That way lay peril, my friends, and the unhappiness guaranteed of disappointing oneself. No, instead, I wish you the gift of Yes.

A simple answer in the affirmative to all that life is offering us, every single day.

Here are some examples of Yes working its magic in my life so far this year:

Will I accept an invitation to a weekend at the beach in spite of not knowing anyone there? Yes. Result: a gaggle of new like-minded friends with different life experience than my own, and a standing invitation to visit their beach house.

Will I try digging for clams, even though it’s really cold and I don’t know how? Yes. Result: My first bivalve capture, and subsequent chowder.

Will I finally trust my daughter’s advice that I’ve been wearing my jeans three sizes too big and get sexy new skinny ones? Yes. Result: Immediate reduction in the number of times I hoist my sagging trousers, and a surprise coffee invitation.

Will I agree to have coffee with a funny gent who landed on my doorstep, even though I might have to talk about something other than knitting? Yes. Result: Instant connection. Sparks, even.

So that’s my hope for you all, Gentle Readers. Please look carefully at this day, with the stated purpose of looking for ways to say Yes. They’re all around us, all the time. The universe loves us and wants us to be happy. Yes to caring for yourself in little ways you’ve been putting off. Yes to taking the route less travelled, just because. Yes to my challenge to knit fearlessly (more on that, anon).

Remember that you are precious to me, and the best is yet to come. Yes to 2022.

How To Tell if You Are a Knitter

Last night we had a pretty formidable ice storm. After surveying the wonderland from the safety of my bedroom window, I leapt into action and dressed for the day. I settled on my favorite destroyed jeans, a t-shirt, and a Pendleton wool shirt that makes me feel like Johnny Cash. Here I am, ready for a day of pattern-writing:

Notice anything unusual about my Johnny Cash wool shirt?

How about now:

Yep. Those are stitch markers. I hooked them through the buttonhole on my shirt last time I had it on (who remembers?) to avoid losing them.

And then forgot all about them until today.

Knitting has become part of my body. An integral part of my everyday goings on. To the degree that I (and those around me) don't even notice. Three people and a dog saw me this morning before the first photo, and not one commented on the stitch markers. Okay, I'm letting the dog off because he might have tried to tell me.

And this is by no means new. I once had a hair stylist nimbly remove a cable needle from behind my ear. I'm forever stabbing myself on errant DPNs in the depths of my handbag. And don't get me started on the stitch markers. They are found in every conceivable crevice.

Yep, Knitting, I belong to you. Whether you want me or not, I'm yours. I've been assimilated. I hope it works out the way we both want.

Advent-Ageous

Last August, I missed the boat by failing to prepare the Christmas Pudding. Again. See, I was informed by my Christmas Pudding Teacher that to do it properly, you really need to have the thing put together and resting comfortably in the deep freeze by the end of summer, or there's no point bothering. I use this wisdom as an excuse, annually, to neglect making the Christmas Pudding. To those of you who are better-organized, Shut it. No one likes a braggart.

However, since the pudding mold was lying fallow (again), today I seized the opportunity to press it into a different kind of service:

This year, I made it into an Advent wreath. By adding a couple of pounds of dry beans, four candles, and some filched greenery, I have redeemed myself in time for Christmas.

Today is the first Sunday in Advent, and I'm reminding you in time to do the same. Any four candles will do, and stealing evergreen fronds in the name of Jesus is its own kind of religious observance; try it and see if you don't agree.

Light the first candle tonight, and read a few lines of scripture. Here's a place to start if you need help: Advent Devotions

If you're feeling wiped out after the hubbub of Thanksgiving, or twitching under the pressure of all those shopping incentives, try a little reflection on the reason for the season. It always renews my feelings of hope. 

God Bless us, Every One.