Making yarn and sharing the joy
Time to enjoy our gifts
As the temperatures drop and the snow starts to pile up, my nesting instincts kick into full gear. I can't pass my kitchen cupboards without wanting to pull out cinnamon, cardamom, and ginger and embark on aromatic confections. My four-year-old demonstrates her playdough skills with real dough and then swiftly eats a big ball of cookie dough before I can stop her. Her eyes twinkle in mirth. My eight-year-old comes in from helping her dad shovel the walks, red-cheeked, ready for a cup of hot cocoa, and smiling from ear-to-ear.
The bobbins on my wheel fill up with bright colored yarns as my kids play dress up and do puzzles. I've got a few sewing projects at my sewing machine (some secret projects that I have to whisk away quickly if someone walks into the room). On the dining room table, trays with beads and wire sit at the ready—waiting for a few minutes of stringing and bending into sparkly adornments. A stack of notecards, a pen, and stamps are on my writing desk—poised for a quick note to a friend. In my bag, my current knitting project awaits that spare moment. At my desk, a tahkli with a bit of silk that is ready to be drafted out into a fine embroidery thread entices me while I wait for my computer to boot up.
Though the days are shorter and the nights longer every day they seem to fly by. They are filled with light, laughter, and the creating that brings so much joy. Sure, there are moments when lines are long, expectations exceed abilities, and the darkness wants to snuff out the light—but the making and sharing help make those things easier, and offer relief.
P.S. The dough that Sarah couldn't resist is my Grandma Barr's recipe for gingerbread cookies. She shared so much with me, now I want to share it with you. Get the recipe here.