Today is very dark. Not metaphorically dark - actually dark. Of all days of the year in the Northern hemisphere, today is the one with the longest night and the least amount of sun, and I'm pretty sure that the weather here got wind of the theme, because it's so overcast that it seems to be twilight. It is deeply dark, a total absence of sun, and far from being dismal or dreary, I am finding it appropriate and lovely. I have candles lit
freshly baked bread just out of the oven,
the meringues (finally) in the oven and I am hunkering down and embracing this day for what it is. Cozy, quiet and dark, with only the light I put into it.
It is peaceful and lovely, and the kettle is singing in the kitchen, ready for tea, and as I putter through the day, wrapping up loose ends (and literally wrapping) I'm reflecting on the fact that I appear to be not just caught up - but ahead. The baking is done, the house is tidy, and last night when I was on the streetcar, I just about finished the last pair of socks I had on the list. The wee sweater proceeds just fine, and near as I can tell, that means that all I have left to knit is a hat... and I can't believe it. I actually can't believe it to the point that it must not be right. This morning, instead of being all relaxed and thinking about how nice it must be to be almost finished, I decided that this must mean I forgot something. I've been over my spreadsheet about nine times (Yes. I have a spreadsheet. I am that person.) and if I'm missing a knit, I have no idea what it is - but I find it hard to believe that it's not lurking out there. I hope it's nothing big. The moment is going to come when I figure this out, and when I do, I hope two things. That it's not a whole pair of socks, and that it's not 10:30 on Christmas Eve.
Gifts for Knitters: Day 21
This is a really good one, and again, short - sweet and possibly online. Your knitter, while knitting, can't always look at things (like a screen, which is frankly, why they don't want to go to the movies with you. It's not personal) but they can always listen. Consider getting your knitter audiobooks. I've got an Audible subscription, and love it to death, but you can also buy them at bookstores. Sitting and listening while someone reads me a story is one of the nicest things to do. I bet your knitter would like it too.
PS: Because someone will ask, my current favourite audiobooks are The Hunger Games, The Song of Ice and Fire series, anything from the Amelia Peabody series (it's better in order) and the The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. I'm sure there will be more good suggestions in the comments.