Happy 2009
“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning.”
T.S. Eliot
“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice. And to make an end is to make a beginning.”
T.S. Eliot
Look what is in my house RIGHT NOW:
Compared with the 1962 Singer I’ve been using (goodbye, Old Paint), it is like a spaceship. I hear the Also Sprach Zaruthustra theme whenever I look at it. This is the beginning of a new Sewing Age. It makes buttonholes! It finishes the edges of your seams! There are nineteen different stitches to choose from! It comes with accessories! (Cat butt not included in all models.) And I think the Swiss Army made its ballistic nylon cover:
Best (early) birthday present EVER. Thank you Mom and Dad!
This is only a test.
Like the rest of the blogging world, I won’t be posting the rest of the week because of Christmas. But I have more plans than celebration and vacation–I’m going to attempt to move the blog to Blogspot (gasp!) to help with the organization and overall look.*
So I will leave you with three things to read for the next three days:
*I am a little nervous about this, but I have reinforcements I can call in (hi Amber!) to fix things if the move goes horribly awry. So if you don’t see a blog here next Monday, don’t panic; it just means that I’ll need another week to have someone who knows what she’s doing fix things.
And after today, I will have time–I have tomorrow through January 4th OFF. I’m going to try to finish that taupe cardigan (I have to start over on the back, though, so it may not happen), sew two shirts, and knit one of these cowl-y scarf-y things:
(Found, along with a pattern, on the suitably titled CopyCat blog of craftiness.)
Yesterday marked the Winter Solstice, so at least we can have more light as we fight “the depressive psychological effects of winter on individuals and societies,” which Wikipedia defines as “coldness, tiredness, malaise, and inactivity.”
I’ve mostly escaped malaise and Mr. Isbell and I have been pretty good about staying active, but the coldness this year has been getting to me. My fingers and toes are ALWAYS cold, and Toby and I are in front of the space heater like it’s a roaring fire. (If only it were.)
But at least December is almost over, then there’s just January and February. We can do it, right?
1. www.
Got it! Good photo! Did the studio send out the buffet for you?!! Is that a hotdog/cigarette/donut you’re eating?!! Who is the young lady in front of you?
I really must know what you have in your mouth. Dad is curious, too.
Please reply immediately. Love, Mom
2. Speaking of parents, I was visitng last Sunday and my father had taped part of a sales flyer shouting THESE ARE THE FINAL DAYS to the calendar in the kitchen. With six days left until Christmas and Snow-mageddon on the way in just hours, I couldn’t agree more.
3. And, from The Onion: McCain Stares at Screen, Attempts to Write Family Christmas Letter:
Forty-five minutes later, after two aborted attempts to compose the letter from the point of view of the family cat, Oreo, and another about what 2009 held in store for the McCain clan, the Arizona senator took a break to make a cup of hot cocoa and listen to the grandfather clock ticking in the background. “Jesus,” McCain mumbled. “Jesus Christ.”
So awesome. Go read all of it.
Oyster stew is a traditional Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve supper in my mother’s family, but only she and I like it. Mr. Isbell doesn’t care for it either, but since he was at band practice last night, I made some for a week-before-Christmas-eve dinner for myself. (And Toby. Toby, I discovered, is a big fan of oyster stew.)
I’ve started reading some M.F.K. Fisher again, to compare her with Laurie Colwin, and in Consider The Oyster I found this about oyster stew: “mildly potent, quietly sustaining, warm as love and welcomer in the winter.”
And also very popular with spoiled housecats.