I don’t have Christmas-at-home traditions, but I do get moved to Make Stuff around the holidays. Just to add to the frenzy. When I was with B, I made things like fancy-labeled, curated holiday mix CDs for everyone to take home, or bath bombs, with cunning names and packaging fashioned with my first colour printer. I called it my cottage industry, arranged the little packets in wooden clementine crates.. There’s a lot of knitting, and making of calendars with my own photos. Not home, but home spun.
I still send holiday cards, for the same reason, all hand addressed. I did these this weekend, getting glitter all over my granite countertop.
I also worked hard to finish this scarf, for Kim. Blocked and dried it yesterday, the silk and cashmere softening even more as they relaxed.
Every stitch an intention, hope, grace, connection, compassion. Put it on myself before packaging it up for her.
There’s hope and yearning and nostalgia and earnestness in all of this holiday-making, fingers rolling and folding and knitting a poem of connection, acknowledgment, gratitude, desire for home.