Better Living Through Literature
Words + Projects + Stuff I Like
It was the winter solstice yesterday–we made it through another round. Here is an extremely fitting poem for it and a picture of this morning’s sunrise.
Before Sunrise the Day After the Winter Solstice
by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer
I don’t know how it is
that before I even open my eyes,
I feel it in my blood—
the small measure of light
that will arrive today.
I marvel how trust in the light
is as powerful
as the light itself.
By the time dawn comes,
already, I am glowing.
1. Continuing the holiday theme, I can’t stop saying, “Yule lads” to myself. Jólasveinar – The thirteen Icelandic Yule lads (Santa Clauses) .
2. This set of holiday jazz is smooooth and you can watch the guy being very “cool” about changing the records.
3. Final plumbing is happening today in the basement and final electrical might be Monday. Soon all the construction lads will be gone–I’d better ask if they’ve been practicing their dance moves while I can.
@brickingit1 Which is your favourite? #construction #dance #austinmillz ♬ Right Now – Austin Millz & Caroline Byrne
This got me wheezing:
And this is uncomfortably close to the narrative in my brain when hanging Christmas ornaments. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Doc got a rare non-cat print shirt for his birthday this year. He has eleven years of cat shirts and only wears them on “Feline Fridays,” so I decided he needed something for the other days of the week.
I found this excellent scenic desert print at Sew Dynamic Fabrics. It’s a recycled poly stretch woven and I used a wicking fabric for the inside yoke, so hopefully it will feel like his REI-brand performance shirts.
The pattern is, of course, McCalls 6044, for easily the 30th time. At this point I should probably trace it off onto something sturdier before the tissue disintegrates, but I generally am rushing to make these, heh.
It’s Matt’s birthday today, also known around here as “Doc” from Cannery Row. Why? Because Steinbeck could have been describing him:
Doc would listen to any kind of nonsense and turn it into wisdom. His mind had no horizon–and his sympathy had no warp. He could talk to children, telling them very profound things so that they understood. […] Everyone who knew him was indebted to him. And everyone who thought of him thought next, “I really must do something nice for Doc.”
And!
Doc tips his hat to dogs as he drives by and the dogs look up and smile at him.
Matt has waved at dogs and kids and pedestrians since I met him. He’s also been the steadiest man I’ve ever known, the wisest and most generous. Animals and children and clinically anxious women (ahem) are drawn to him; young bros ask him for advice; older people love his consideration.
He even won over Toby in our years together, to the point where Toby would meow and look for him if he was working late. Everyone who knows him depends on him in some way, and I’m sure they think, “We really must do something nice for Doc.” (I know I do.)
So happy birthday, honey. Thank you for everything you do, and I hope you do something nice for yourself today. I love you. <3
Fill in that blank with “Christmas,” “birthday,” or even, “basement” because things are happening over here.
We have a “tree” (the living room is too full of furniture waiting to go back to the basement for the real tree).
We have a cake for Altair and soon we’ll have a cake for Doc (this recipe was pretty good).
And we have doors! This week we’ll have paint and I think I’ll be able to move furniture down there right after Christmas. 
It’s our sister-in-law’s birthday today! My brother lucked out with this kind, competent, accomplished, funny lady. (We all did.)
She’s all of those things but she’s also so generous: She mentors her team; she helps with the Society of Women Engineers; she volunteers with my nephew’s squadron for Civil Air Patrol; she bakes gifts for the neighbors every year; she leaves snacks out on the porch for the delivery drivers.
And she has zero ego about everything she’s done–two masters degrees, a truly impressive career, a wonderful son–and instead just looks for ways to give or help more.
Happy birthday, Altair! We all love you.
We’re in the last few weeks of this project, which feels simultaneously like no time has passed and like October was about a year ago. But the floors went down this week! 
We’re not staying in this house forever so I didn’t go for custom stair treads. Just gonna keep reminding myself of that…
My BFFs the tile guys are coming back today to finish the shower curb. Their snacks are ready, lol. 
I’m a sucker for poems related to Christmas (and for carols too; this is accurate). I like how this one rambles and is sad but also hopeful–the classic December mix of feelings.
Advent
by Heather Christle
It’s hopeless, the stars, the books
about stars, they can’t help themselves
and how could you not love them for it
here in the new week with animals
burying food and everything outlined
in cold and even friends, it’s hopeless,
this mess, this season, all that
is lost and tickets and strangers,
what can I say, only sitting here
on this dark bench waiting for what
I don’t know, I want this world
to remain with me, this holy tumult,
which does not know it loves me
and you, friends, spectacular driveways,
an orange, the vanishing year.
Things are lonely at home without my orange boy. I don’t think I’m ready for another creature yet, but I also think another cat would remind me too much of all the ways it’s not Toby So maybe a dog someday? I don’t know. A dog sounds hard (not as hard as a senior cat, but still…).
HOWEVER. I could SEW things for a dog. We could MATCH! (That last pattern envelope is sending me.) 
