1. I just learned (from Robin Sloan’s newsletter) that Rudyard Kipling wrote two sci-fi stories. In 1905 and 1912. You can read both of them here.
2. I also just learned that Ram Dass, author of Be Here Now, has an Instagram account, where I saw this:
Far out!
It’s my sister-in-law’s birthday today!
The word that came into my head first when I was thinking of this post was “capable.” She doesn’t make a big deal of it, but she can just DO most things–invest money, make quilts, grow food, bake bread, run races. I’ve often thought that she’d be a good pioneer, or someone you’d want around in an apocalypse.
Not only that, but she’s GOOD at what she does. I admire her most for how she’s raising her son to be such a well-rounded, rational human. She’s teaching him how to sew and bake. She’s setting an example by volunteering with the city government. She gives back by mentoring younger women. He sees her go to work every day and proudly tells everyone, “She builds rockets!”
In spite of all the things she’s doing for her job and her family, she makes time to be a good friend and a good daughter. When she talks to you, she gives you all of her attention–I hadn’t realized how rare that is until I noticed it. When someone as accomplished as she is wants to really listen to what’s going on in your life, it feels pretty great.
Happy birthday, Altair! Thanks for marrying my brother.
Firstly, no, he is not literally a younger Yoda, but no one knows what else to call the species Master Yoda belongs to. Secondly, I haven’t seen any parts of The Mandalorian; yet–like the rest of the world–I am obsessed.
Baby Yoda moved Werner Herzog to tears! A completely understandable reaction! This opinion piece posits that we should all mother our collective son Baby Yoda instead of bringing human children into the world! I agree!
I have Just the Baby Yoda Parts of The Mandalorian bookmarked to read when a new episode comes out (or whenever I just need to see Baby Yoda being adorable). I recommend you do the same.
Until next time, Baby Yoda!
You could spend $79.50 on these pleated velvet pants I saw in a Madewell email:
Or you could buy two yards of this crushed velvet at your local JoAnn for $35…
…and make a quick pair of Emerson pants with a full elastic waist and be richer. 
(This is just a PSA. I don’t need party pants; I have a party JUMPSUIT planned instead.)
MY ROLLER SKATES ARRIVED FRIDAY!
Please note Toby supervising the basement rink
Best. Birthday present. Ever.
We’re going to the rink tomorrow! I’ve already been practicing the basics!
1. This is accurate:
(Via)
2. This is hilarious (sound on, via my friend who finds all the best things):
I went roller skating last week for the first time in about 30 years. Not two days later, I’d told Doc I wanted a pair of skates for my birthday and that I wanted my birthday present early. I’ve found roller skate Instagram (with instructional videos!) and a whole YouTube channel with how-to’s:
My skates should get here tomorrow so I’m getting ready to practice my superskater and my bubbles. (I knew there was a reason we hadn’t finished the basement yet.)
A friend sent me this Joy Harjo poem yesterday and “Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.” is just…ineffable. Good stuff.
Perhaps the World Ends Here
by Joy Harjo
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
(from The Woman Who Fell From the Sky, 1994)
I cast on for a sweater in October but it has more refined techniques than I’m used to–I had to learn the tubular cast on and was working on doing German short rows along with the dreaded “at the same time” increasing on both knit and purl sides and…it was just too much for my work-fried brain.
So I made a super-easy hat with leftover yarn from my last chunky sweater.
This was a free pattern from Purl Soho and it took about a week. It was perfectly mindless and gave an excuse to buy a giant faux-fur pom from JoAnn (always a plus). It also got me hooked on big chunky yarn again: I bought more to make another sweater from Good Night, Day and that one is flying off the needles.
Having a week off was SO GREAT: We went on a Black Friday hike and a Sunday hike, I sewed elaborately ruffled things, we watched movie trilogies and I knitted, we had a mellow Thanksgiving and put up the Christmas tree, and we took my nephew ROLLER SKATING (finally! and I didn’t fall down).
I have the week of Christmas off, as well–can’t wait for MORE VACATION.
