Mimi's Gift

My grandma Mimi passed away when I was 7. I have scattered memories of her from my childhood - making me sandwiches in her kitchen, playing "the counting game" with my little sister, decorating her screen door with seashells we found on trips to the beach. Though my family cherishes these little memories, it's been a long time since we've received anything tangible that connects us to her.

But on Christmas eve, we opened a large package from my aunt. Inside was a tangled mass of yarn scraps and half used skeins, along with a note explaining that this was Mimi's knitting stash. We were in awe.


We quickly decided that this yarn could not be used for just any project, but needed to be saved for something meaningful. After some deliberation, we decided to use all the scraps for a very colorful Christmas tree garland. I spent Christmas eve and day slowly knitting a very long I-cord that will adorn our tree in years to come.


Little by little, memories of Mimi are working their way back into the present. We're all very grateful for that.

Traditions

I think my favorite part of Christmas is the traditions. I like the rhythm of performing all the same little rituals year after year. For my family, Christmas means new pajamas, eating our grandmother's stuffing, and a screening of old home videos.


The youngest member of my immediate family will turn 20 this year. We're all well past the age where Christmas revolves around Santa. But regardless, our Christmas eve still ends with a plate of cookies and a handwritten note reminding St. Nick that we've all been (relatively) good this year.

Some traditions deserve to last well past the point where they make sense. At our house, any break in tradition is usually met with a moderate amount of panic and protest, and with good reason. These little rituals make my parent's house feel like our home again, even though it's been years since any kids lived there. They make a group of people now scattered across the country feel like a family. These traditions and the memories they invoke serve as little reminders of all the history that ties us together. They're worth celebrating.

Happy Holidays

I realize it's December 28, but the holiday spirit is still alive and well here, so forgive me if the next few posts seem a little belated.

Solstice

Despite my solemn promise not to leave the apartment yesterday, by mid afternoon, I couldn't resist any longer. I needed to take advantage of the reasonably good weather and take a walk through central park.


When I walked outside, I was completely taken aback by what I saw. The streets were nearly empty, and for a few hours, the city looked clean. Quiet. Still.


Personally, I don't mind New York when it's a little bit gritty (in a way, the dirt is part of its charm). But I have to admit, this city is a different place when it's blanketed in snow. All of those easily overlooked details seem to demand the attention they deserve.


This little snowstorm was a perfect start to the Winter Solstice. Already, my world seems brighter and more at peace.

Happy Solstice.

Happily Snowed In

We had a mini blizzard last night. There's several inches on the ground right now, and it's supposed to continue all day.

But no worries. I've got an old rocking chair, a hand-knit blanket, and enough peppermint tea to last through 2010. Let the weather do what it pleases. For once, I'm ready for it.

Spreading Warmth

Last July, my local yarn shop held its annual Charity Knit Night. Each year, we get together over wine and pizza, and knit squares to be sewn into a blanket. I always look forward to this night. There's something so healing about getting together with friends and creating something meaningful. I watched so many hands, including my own, bring this blanket together.

The fact that I felt so invested in this project made it all the more incredible when, on Thursday night, that blanket was raffled off to raise money for our local homeless shelter, and I won!!


Right now, with temperatures dropping and the heating system in my apartment working rather inconsistently, I can think of no better place to be than under this blanket - my beautiful, cozy, blanket made by some of my favorite people for some of the best reasons. Nothing could make me feel warmer.

Looking Ahead

My growing season is coming to an end. I moved the herbs inside last week, and early this morning, freezing rain claimed the last of my peppers. Aside from some frost-hardy swiss chard, my garden is closed for the year. I'll miss it.

Before

After

But saying goodbye to this year's crops has me looking ahead to next year's garden more than ever. Right now, I'm planning for tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers, brussel sprouts, eggplants, herbs, blueberries, strawberries, hot peppers, bell peppers, summer squash, winter squash, and an asian pear tree.

Feel free to laugh at my naivety. I know this list is ridiculously ambitious given my space and skill limitations, but I don't care. This year, I'm thinking big.

Chickens

In most respects, apartment living has exceeded my food producing expectations. Vegetables and herbs have been surprisingly easy to grow in a limited space (with limited skills), and I'm hoping to attempt my first fruit tree this spring.

Still, there is one little thing I haven't been able to produce here; Livestock. Specifically, I want chickens. really. really. badly. I don't know why it's chickens that I've fixated on, but my little farm just doesn't seem complete without them. There's just something really cool about a pet that can produce my breakfast.

I know trying to raise chickens in a studio apartment would be a little cruel/insane, so I've shelved the idea for the time being. Still, the search continues for a farm animal I can raise in my apartment. Maybe quail? Or rabbits? Do compost worms count?

Standing on Winter's Doorstep

It's snowing right now; not that gentle, flaky snow. Nope, it's the rainy, sludgy, wet kind. I'll be the first to admit that winter is not my favorite. Every year I cling for dear life to the last days of fall, refusing to trade in my pumpkins and sneakers for Christmas lights and insulated boots. I'm not looking forward to a barren garden, temperatures in the teens, or sunsets before 5:00. All that can wait.

But the snow? That's a different story. Right now I'm sitting in a coffee shop watching the snowfall from a safe, warm distance, and I have to admit it's beautiful. Even the sludgy snow makes the city seem a little quieter, a little cleaner. I may not be ready to embrace winter, but for now, I can make my peace with the snow.

... but I'm still keeping my pumpkins.

Secret Santa's Workshop

The holiday knitting has begun!