I’ve never met a winter I didn’t like. I’m not big on icy winds, it’s true. But I always, always, always welcome a big, thick snowfall. When I’m visiting my parents, I love standing outside when it’s snowing. I like to stand and listen to the snow. It’s such a subtle sound, especially compared to how dramatic it looks. In Brooklyn, I love how people react to big snowfalls. They walk down the middle of our normally busy street. Jealous children, staring from their windows, watch the boys and I walk by. People head to Owl’s Head park to zip down it’s perfect slope. I love coming in from the snow and making hot chocolate and changing into dry socks and snuggling down on a snowy day. When I lived in Vermont, I often felt that I would be perfectly happy if it could snow year round. I’m not sure that that’s still true, but I’ve never seen it snowing out my window and wish that it would stop.
I just finished up a part time, short term job with a curriculum development company called Wireless Generation. I wrote a series of lessons for the Advanced Phonics strand of a reading intervention unit they’ve developed. And I loved it. I loved the work itself. It was nicely engrossing, without being stressful. When I was working, I could only think about the work itself, which turned out to be a delightful escape. I also love thinking about the way kids learn how to read. I love dissecting the parts of reading and trying to look at content the way a 6 or 7 or 8 year old would. I find that super, super interesting. Also, I got to say, I love the positive feedback I got and the lovely little boost to my checking account. Fingers crossed they can find more work for me.
One afternoon, when Andrew was a baby, he did not fall asleep at naptime. Little did we know that on that day, a sacred tradition would become established: Quiet Time. We have Quiet Time everyday. And I plan on observing Quiet Time for as long as I have small children. Sometimes kids nap, mostly they don’t. But they know that that is their time to rest quietly. Isaac looks at books, sings in his crib, and plays with his Magna Doodle. Andrew does puzzles, draws, and works with his legos. And, I have time for me. Lately I’ve been writing curriculum during Quiet Time. But when I am in between gigs, it’s my time to make stuff. I sew, or scrapbook or make cards. I’m careful to chose a project that I can complete, and clean up after, in the allotted time. I am a hardcore Quiet Time observer. Though, I wonder how long I’ll get away with it.
The hardest part about quilting is the risk involved. After buying fabric, working out measurements, cutting, sewing, layering, and the quilting itself…what if I don’t like it? I’ve already spent considerable time and money on this project, and ultimately, it’s a risk. I really don’t know what it’s going to look like. I have a good guess, but I’ve definitely made quilts that disappointed me. And still, every year or so, I am itching to make another. In fact, since my first quilt at 22, I’ve averaged 3 a year. Every time I make a new one, I am giddy with excitement. I have trouble falling asleep at night because my mind is imaging delicious fabric combinations and new techniques I want to try. Perhaps, the risk is exactly why I keep coming back. The risk makes me work harder and more creatively. It motivates me to try my darndest to make it awesome.