Poetry for the End of the Year

I've been wondering how to mark the end of 2021, and this poem seemed to express what I had in mind.

In Any Event
by Dorianne Laux

If we are fractured
we are fractured
like stars
bred to shine
in every direction,
through any dimension,
billions of years
since and hence.

I shall not lament
the human, not yet.
There is something
more to come, our hearts
a gold mine
not yet plumbed,
an uncharted sea.

Nothing is gone forever.
If we came from dust
and will return to dust
then we can find our way
into anything.

What we are capable of
is not yet known,
and I praise us now,
in advance.

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You can read more about the poet here.
Laux, Dorianne. "In Any Event." How to Love the World, edited by James Crews, Storey Publishing, 2021, p. 10.

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May your New Year be filled with peace, mindfulness, good health, and the promise of more to come, along with some poetry as this year winds down. 

Lowest/Highest

I've been thinking all week about the highs and lows this year. Some are obvious - we're still in the pandemic but we now have vaccines, the former president is no longer in office but things are just as divided politically, and just yesterday I heard arguments for both sides about Bernie Sanders at Joe Biden's inauguration. He might have looked like a cold and grumpy old man, but by selling merchandise with this photo on it, he raised nearly 2 million dollars for charities in Vermont. There are times that I am cold and grumpy, but I have yet to benefit any charities by being a grumpy, old woman.

I've also been considering my personal highs and lows of 2021. I looked through old blog posts and made several lists but finally decided that just one of each stood out. 

We lost my 33-year-old nephew in May of this year due to an overdose. He had gone to rehab and been clean for three years, but some issues were just too large to overcome. His death has profoundly changed my sister's life and affected our whole family. I'm trying to learn the most helpful things to do and say for my sister. I'm also learning that there isn't much you can do or say that will make things any better when a parent loses a child, all you can do is be present and offer support, acceptance, and love.

The high point that stood out was finally being able to help Ryan move back from Colorado. We tried to do this in 2020, but it was fraught with innumerable difficulties, and none of us felt safe selling his house or traveling to move him before we were all able to be fully vaccinated in 2021. The housing market was crazy but we were able to buy a house here in the east because his house in CO had appreciated quite a bit. We were lucky enough to find him a nice house in a good location, and after packing, driving back from CO, getting his stuff unloaded into a storage facility while he lived with us for a month, we were finally able to move his stuff into his new house. It was only a couple of weeks later that he had a flooded basement after receiving 11 inches of rain from Hurricane Ida, but we helped out with multiple Shop Vacs and dehumidifiers. John has been showing Ryan how to do some electrical and plumbing work, and our exciting New Year's Eve plans include replacing the wax seal, flange, and bolts on one of his toilets. Excitement abounds!

The low this year was so very low and the high point was so good that it makes 2021 feel like a very manic-depressive year to me. What were some of your own highs and lows this year? My wishes for 2022 include health, happiness, safety, time spent in nature, creativity, and life lived on a bit more of an even keel. 

Unraveled Wednesday

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers for our last Unraveled Wednesday of 2021. First of all, I'd like to express a big thank you to Kat for hosting Unraveled Wednesday. It feels like an anchoring spot for me in blogging; even if I can't think of anything else to say, I can almost always come up with a post about what I'm knitting and reading once a week. I like writing these Unraveled Wednesday posts, and I especially like reading others' posts about what they are making and reading. So thank you, Kat, and I look forward to more Unraveled Wednesdays in 2022. 

While this is Unraveled Wednesday, it's also serving as What I Knit in 2021. I am not the most prolific knitter, but I managed to finish nine projects. 

These included a hat I knit for myself in January, a Sockhead cowl, a pair of socks, three Hitchhikers, and three Christmas Bankhead hats. 

This is certainly not an overwhelming number of finished objects, but I'm also happy that after three decades, I'm finally knitting a sweater. Now that I'm done with the Christmas Bankheads, I've returned to my Antler cardigan. The pandemic has taught me not to make any absolute promises, but I do fully intend to complete this sweater in the first few months of the New Year. It's even beginning to look a lot more like a sweater.

I talked about books quite a bit yesterday, so I won't ramble on about them anymore today. I do hope 2021 has been a satisfying year for you in knitting.

What are you making this week (or this year)?

2021 Reading in Review

It's difficult to look at a book-related website without seeing some sort of "Best Books of 2021" list. It's no different here today; I'm writing about some of the best books I read this year. In no particular order, here are a few of my favorites. These may not be the "absolute best books" (whatever that might mean) but for different reasons, I enjoyed each of them immensely. (The links will take you to Goodreads.)

Shuggie Bain  - I read this in May of 2021 after we chose it for Read With Us. I was a little concerned that it might be a difficult book to read because of the pain, sorrow, poverty, shame, and alcoholism, but there is also love, vulnerability, and perseverance contained within its pages. Months later I find myself still thinking about it several times a month. It was a remarkable book and one that I will re-read someday. 

Oh William! - This is Elizabeth Strout's third book in her Lucy Barton series, and I think it is one of her best. I've loved almost everything she has written, but especially this one where Lucy tells us about her ongoing and complex relationship with William, her first husband, their daughters, her career, and her childhood. 

Unsettled Ground - This was also a Read With Us selection, and the reason I put this one on the list is that it illustrated for me the importance of discussing a book and what I could learn from others through the discussion. Claire Fuller writes about people on the fringes of society and talking about this book helped me understand (and appreciate) some of the characters' actions.

What Strange Paradise - While this one was not enjoyable in the usual sense of the word, it was a great book because it provided me with a harsh but necessary look at the global refugee crisis through the eyes of children. Omar El Akkad has written the stories of the people involved, including the fear, suffering, risks, along with kindness and hope in a way that I won't soon forget.

The Five Wounds - I was surprised to find that I enjoyed a book in which so many of the characters are selfish and careless, but they are also realistically human and fiercely loving. Honesty, religion, faith, flaws, humanity (and windshield repair) - Kirstin Valdez Quade has written it all in stellar form in The Five Wounds. It's hard to believe that this is her debut novel, and I will gladly read anything else she writes. 

These Precious Days - While I've enjoyed several of Ann Patchett's novels (especially The Dutch House), I think I like her essays even more. This is the Story of a Happy Marriage was her first stellar collection, and These Precious Days is even better. 

The Tidal Zone - This book was my third Sarah Moss novel, and it was so good that I still want more. It's the story of Adam, a stay-at-home dad, and his family. One day Adam receives a phone call that his 15-year-old daughter, Miriam, has collapsed at school, and things unfold from there. I love Moss' language, intelligence, and extraordinary writing about the mundane and not-so-mundane.Empire of Pain - This nonfiction book is horrifying, yet wonderfully researched and written history of the Sackler family. If that name isn't familiar to you, just think of the family as a group of ambitious, driven yet ruthless members who should be held accountable for the opioid crisis. The story is complicated and sordid and is still not over. 

Immune - I was delighted to find that this was a "Goldilocks" sort of book for me. Philipp Dettmer has written this with just the right amount of information - not too much to overwhelm and not too little to dumb down the complex immune system. I had a graduate course in immunology decades ago, but this is one of those subjects that has changed and been added to quite a bit in the intervening time. This is a brilliant book for explaining how the immune system works, how vaccines work, what happens when the immune system becomes too active, and so much more information that we all need to understand. 

So what is next in my reading queue? I've started The Sentence and The Lincoln Highway, two highly-rated books to carry me into the New Year. Some of the books that I'm eagerly anticipating have not been published yet, but they are on my tbr list so I can request them asap from the library. 

Why Has Nobody Told Me This Before? by Julie Smith (January 10, 2022)

The Final Case by David Guterson (January 10, 2022)

Lost and Found Kathryn Schulz (January 11, 2022)

Losing Our Minds by Dr. Lucy Foulkes (January 24, 2022)

Toxic Positivity by Whitney Goodman (January 31, 2022)

Life Without Children by Roddy Doyle (February 21, 2022)

and especially this one: Young Mungo by Douglas Stuart. We only have to wait until April 5th! 

If there is anything that you have read this year that you've especially enjoyed, I would love to hear about it in the comments. The same is true for any books you might be looking forward to reading in 2022. Here's to another wonderful year of reading for each of us!

Old Slippers, New Slippers

These are my old slippers. We've always called them "Cabeluggs" because they came from Cabela's and weren't quite Uggs. They are very comfortable, but over time the inner fleece lining has gotten worn and matted, to the point that they are really too big. Justin has been nagging me for a long time to get new ones, telling me that I'm going to trip down the steps someday and how much he hates the slapping, clomping sound they make on the stairs. I knew he was right, but sometimes comfort is hard to give up.

But he finally took matters into his own hands and got me new slippers for Christmas. They are very warm and comfortable, and more importantly, they fit better. No more clomping on the steps, and the soles are not slippery at all. They have cute acorn imprints on the bottom, and they also make me laugh. There is a tag inside that says "faux fur" and each time I put them on I'm reminded of a friend in elementary school that thought it was pronounced "fox". I wasn't sure I wanted to give up my old slippers, but now I'm as quiet as a Ninja in my new slippers. (And what 64-year-old woman doesn't like to feel like a Ninja and comfortable at the same time?!)

Friday Letters

Welcome to Friday Letters, the Christmas Eve edition. I've taken my virtual fountain pen in hand to write a few thank you notes. Let's open the mail ...

Dear G'ma, Mom, and Mrs. Becker

When the kids were young, I often had days where it was hard to feel like I had been a good mother - I yelled too much, got too exasperated, or just wasn't present enough.

I did have occasional moments, like when Ryan was six months old and I finally felt like I was getting a handle on the mother thing. I thought, "I could do this again", then Justin came along. I was thrilled because I also thought, "I know how to raise a boy", but he and Ryan are complete opposites, and I had to learn how to be a mother to a different child. 

It's also tough with grown children. Being a mother is still a big part of who I am, but moments to mother can be difficult to come by, and sometimes it's hard to decide what to do when the moments do occur. Do I say, "You should do this" and offer my unsolicited advice? Are they just venting and maybe it's better if I just listen? How do I know when to get involved and when to step back?

Sometimes, parenting is equal parts patience and persistence. All of this is to say thank you to three strong women who were excellent mothers and provided me with plenty of examples of what I should do (and sometimes what I should not do) as a mother. I look to each of you several times each week and thank you immensely. I'm sorry I didn't say it when you were here to hear it. 

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Dear Covid,

You've created havoc, death, and illness throughout the world, and changed us profoundly. I remember getting my first vaccination and thinking it was a miracle. It was, but we still have a long way to go and normal is different.

You've affected me in many negative ways - missing my friends and family and fearing for them daily as many of them are essential healthcare workers or immunocompromised. But dare I say it, you have also brought a positive change or two. Most important to me is a clarification of what is really important. I always knew that family and friends, shopping for yarn, or browsing in the library were vital parts of my life. They still are, but now I think I can honestly say that I will never again take them for granted. When I think of how casually we used to get together to share a meal, a beer, or just a chat, I could almost cry. Now we are vaccinated, boosted, masked, and getting together outdoors at a distance, but you showed me how very crucial these people are in my life. I have finally simplified Christmas because of you, Covid, and while I despise you, I also thank you for the lessons learned.

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Dear Readers,

I thank you so very much for taking the time to read what I've written here, and especially for your thoughtful, humorous, and kind comments. I know you're busy, with plenty of things to do, so I appreciate you choosing to spend a few minutes with me here. I've gained so much by blogging, and this would be much less satisfying if I was just writing for myself and not making connections with you.

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The Christmas season has made me extra grateful for all that I have. I wish you peace, gratitude, good health, and your family and friends around you (in person or virtually), no matter what you may be celebrating at this time of year. 

Unraveled Wednesday

I'm joining Kat and the Unravelers for Unraveled Wednesday, but am sparing you yet another photo of my Antler cardigan with some antlers. I haven't knit on the sweater at all this week, but am looking forward to inching closer to joining the sleeves for the yoke next week. Instead, I've been knitting hats. I've done this for at least the past three years - told myself I'm not doing any Christmas knitting, then felt terrible that I haven't expressed love for my family through stitches, chosen a hat pattern, and ended up knitting something warm for them. I've previously knit waffle hats and Rikke, but this year I chose Bankhead (Ravelry link).

It was an easy choice. It's the most popular hat pattern on Ravelry, with more than 10,000 projects, free, and written for five sizes from baby through adult xl. I've enjoyed it enough to knit two in quick succession, with the third in progress. I may even make a fourth one for myself. I rarely wear hats, but even I might wear this one. 

While hat knitting has been proceeding at full speed, reading has slowed down. I finished a library book, What Just Happened, and am almost done with another one, Small Things Like These. What Just Happened is a memoir of the pandemic by Charles Finch. Many of the reviews speak about how humorous it is, but I found it to be more poignant. Beginning on March 11, 2020, with "It now seems inevitable that in certain places where the virus is spreading, people will have to quarantine for a week or two", the author continues his diary through December of 2020. He marks the milestones of numbers of deaths, with 200,000 on September 21, and here we are 15 months later with an almost unimaginable 805,000 people dead in the US. It was well-written, but I think I will need to wait for a long time before I read another pandemic memoir. 

But Small Things Like These is providing the perfect antidote to pandemic nonfiction. A novella by Claire Keegan, it is set in cold and wintry Ireland in 1985, with Bill Furlong asking himself important life questions after an encounter at a Magdalen laundry while delivering coal. The writing is exquisite and I don't want the book to end. I know I'll be thinking about it long after I finish. 

What are you making and reading this week?