2020 was full of challenges in so many ways, and not just for me, but I also have to admit that overall I did not have a bad year. Yes there were challenges, and yes I am very fortunate. I did not lose my source of income or my home. I can stay safely sheltered. Yes I miss seeing friends, but I also realize that this period of sheltering at home has offered the possibility of reflection. No one likes change, and yet to some extent we are all driven toward it; this is part of the conundrum that makes us human. I prefer to see the challenges of the year as an opportunity for growth, for evolution. As much as we would like it to do so, the world will never again be what it was before SARS Covid-19 made its presence known. Much as we would like the lives we once had, the true telling of who we are is in how we cope with the now and next, not how we yearn for the past.
I did struggle with some health issues during the time of our collective shut-down. Some were self-inflicted, such as a garden fall brought on by stupidity, a fall that kept me from doing much gardening during the peak spring planting time. Others were through no fault of my own. In retrospect I can see that I was struggling with one thing or another, either decline or the frustratingly slow pace of recovery from April through November. In retrospect I can see that I struggled more than I even realized at the time, but there may be a blessing in that. Either way I refuse to dwell on it.
But there were good things as well. I reacquainted myself with my love of cooking and food. Yes, I would like to be feeding others; that does not mean I should not enjoy feeding myself. I planted a vegetable garden, not as large as I had hoped, but large enough that I struggled to keep up given others setbacks. In fact the process of gardening expanded my horizons, both in terms of watching plants grow, watching birds and beasts in the yard, exploring new flavors and combinations. When one cannot go out, perhaps one discovers whole universes in one’s own backyard.
The garden will be here. More will be planted. Perhaps there are benefits in taking things more slowly. I tend to be a person whose dreams are bigger than my ability to execute them. If I cannot slow myself down, the world slows me down instead. Perhaps I should learn from that. Perhaps I never will, but I have hope. One of the advantages of having too much to do, is that reality puts a damper on enthusiasm and actually leads to more creativity. I will be planting for years to come., I am planting now. Three cryptomeria globusa nana were planted last week. I’ve prepped the ground for three more, and they will go in soon. Baby steps.
I started the year with great sewing plans. I was going to make 4 summer linen tank/tunics, 5 dresses, goodness knows what else. It did not happen. I went to a sewing retreat where I fitted a muslin and cut out three dresses, copied from a favorite summer dress from my closet. Only one was completed, the muted purple Japanese print dress. I wore that dress despite my misgivings that the quilting cotton was perhaps a little too “happy hands at home”. I discovered that I didn’t care. There were far too few opportunities to wear a dress, to see a friend, to worry about what others thought. The dress made me smile, and smiles are always good.
The second dress, out of a muted wine linen with an abstract leaf print, was mostly completed in March but not hemmed. My intentions were good, but my motivation waned with a general sense of stuck-at-home malaise. I picked it up again in August only to toss it aside once more. I had made errors, the correction of which seemed more than my poor, oxygen-starved, brain could handle. I picked it up again in December to discover that the solution was obvious and easy. Not perfect, but good. I have something to look forward to wearing when the weather warms.
Two dresses. Countless face masks. 45 yards sewn.
Although there seemed to be long stretches of time in which I knit nothing, knitting output was the greatest it has been in a decade. Seven completed projects, 33 skeins used. Paltry in once sense, and yet more than enough. How much does one need, after all? And yet, one should use what one has. Better garments to wear than yarn on a shelf.
Cozy Cowl Cardigan, knit in Rowan Kid Classic is still my favorite winter sweater. And one that has been in heavy use since Thanksgiving. I don’t know if the weather has been colder or if I have been more sensitive, but I am once again happy for cozy sweaters.
A prayer shawl, hopefully enjoyed by someone, somewhere.
Citron colored socks knit in Lichen and Lace 80/20 sock yarn. Desperately needed and in now in heavy rotation. In fact, after 7 months at home my attitudes toward every day wear are changing, and I actually need more socks. There will be sock knitting in 2021. Yes, I could buy socks, but I will not. Fewer things, well made, hand made, mended, and even then they will wear out. But worth every second. It seems if I have learned anything, it is to not take things for granted.
A throw or lap blanket knit in shades of Blue Taiyo by Noro yarns. I loved knitting this. I love curling up on the sofa under this. I bought yarn to knit another, and other blankets as well. In fact I have blankets on the brain. I want to knit my own blankets. Perhaps I’ve gone off the deep end.
A summer sweater, knit in lace weight linen, held double. Started in the summer of 2019 then put aside when I started the fuzzy pink cardigan. Hopefully this will become another favorite. I almost wore it this past weekend, when the temperatures were in the 60s. Instead I was pulling up small trees partially uprooted by snow and digging in the garden. There will be plenty of opportunities for future wear. Generally the warmer seasons are longer than the colder ones here in Tennessee.
And finally two warm hats from the same pattern. You saw those both, just a week ago. A warm head is a happy head. Poncho and I spend an hour or two walking each day. Walks with Poncho are slow, and hard on my back (and ears if the weather is cold — hats help) we might spend an hour circling around in front of 3 to 4 houses. Poncho is cuddly and sweet and may well be another spirit-guide. Perhaps all the “forward movement” of my life is just a myth, another circle. I know I’ve said this before.
I continue to be thrilled, even as I continue to struggle with the dichotomy of wanting to make more while simultaneously needing less. Having finally gotten started, I don’t think I will be stopping soon. But I also realized it is not really about making more, planting more, doing more, about rushing through things, but just about the whole process of life, making, using, eating, breathing. Especially that.