We’re having a ‘partly cloudy’ evening, and it made for a very pretty view of the moon on my drive home from shopping today. I really dislike how dark it gets so early, but Mother Nature does make up for it with some spectacular views sometimes. Laying on the grass in the middle of the summer to look at stars is usually pretty disappointing for me – it always seems like the best views are when I least want to be outdoors – in the middle of winter in the bitter cold.
I have very few things I know in life. Well, I know quite a bit about quite a little. But what I’m talking about here are those feelings – the feeling of knowing you want to be a chef, or that feeling of knowing you’ll spend your life traveling the world. Some people seem to just know what they want.
I, however, do not share this trait. I never seem to know anything except that I don’t know anything. And any time I start thinking I know what I want, I start second-guessing myself. Talking myself out of something. “Is it really what I want?” is usually the beginning of a very long conversation held between me, myself, and I.
But there are these moments. Moments that, I like to think, occur to those like myself because its the universe’s way of telling me that I’m on the right track. That this is the right choice. The right path. The right direction. For me, its the moments that make me smile and giggle with the tiniest tear in my eye – the moments where my heart feels so full.
This, dear readers, was one of those moments.
To you it may look like just a little sewing project, a little quilt. To me, it means so much more. For my complete and utter lack of planning I managed to make something that turned out not just exactly as I hoped it would look – it turned out to be the very, very perfect size for a very, very special wooden cradle. Which, sometime in the future, will hopefully hold a precious little girl’s very own doll, wrapped up in her very own special little quilt. And as soon as I placed the quilt with the cradle and realized how effin’ perfect it is together I realized that this was one of those moments.
Sometimes being lazy with the gardening has it’s perks.
Last spring I bought some bulbs from the local home improvement retailer. I realize that a. I should have purchased bulbs in the fall and b. I could have gotten a whole bag for what I paid for the potted ones… But it was really a spur-of-the-moment choice.
Failing to plant these babies into the ground in the fall, they sat indoors by a window looking rather pathetic (after all, it was just a plastic container of dirt to anyone who didn’t know better). Until now – now they show signs of life. Signs of growth. Signs of the thing I need most this time of year: reassurance that winter, my least favorite season – made only enjoyable by warm hand knits, will be over before I know it.
The first real snow. It doesn’t look like much, but I promise you there’s probably about an inch or so sitting there. The grass hasn’t been mowed since sometime in October. That rose bush needs trimmed bad. The garden needed tilled. But all of that is meaningless now. Winter is upon us, and I’ve once again proven that I can’t manage even the small tasks around here. What the hell am I going to do if I get the farm I so desperately want?!