Oh my gosh, would you look what Heidi made me? This cowl is so soft and so warm … I’ll bet you five bucks that if Niek gets called away this winter on work, I will even sleep in it! (Hey, Heidi, is this machine washable? I should ask now, LOL!) Seriously, Heidi can do anything, and do it with flair. She quilts like nobody’s business. Her cooking is sublime. She can decorate rings around Martha. Her cross stitching is absolutely perfect. (And those are just the things I’ve experienced first hand!) But most importantly, Heidi has that rare ability to make you feel that you are the most special person on the planet. She has charm and grace and amazing manners; she’s empathetic, generous, and kind. Oh, and she has the handsomest cat you’ll probably ever meet. I made something specially for her ages ago, but haven’t finish-finished it – I guess it’s time I did so! Heidi, thank you!
When I asked Niek to take a picture of me wearing this cowl, Arden insisted that I also take a picture of him with his daddy. Who’s a ham?
While I was drifting around cyberspace yesterday evening, I came across this nifty blog: 2012 Year of Smalls. I know, I’m so great at sticking to SALs and other scheduled stitching activities, right? Not. But hey, I can totally visualize the gorgeous array of meticulously stitched and finished smalls I’ll have at the end of the year … can’t you? Sigh … hope springs eternal.
Around Chateau Chaos, we are very appreciative of the warm weather that gives us (um, me) more time to get those pre-winter outdoor chores done (which is to say, putting up a new fence). November is a great month to reflect on all that we’re thankful for. I’ve loved the daily postings people have done various place, citing something for which they’re thankful each day. If only I were so … coordinated. Timely. Efficient. It’s come to my attention once again how thankful I am for my health – not to mention how necessary it is to do a little maintenance if I expect that good health to continue. I’m very thankful for these slow, dark November evenings when it seems we finally have enough time to spend together – to cuddle on the sofa, to watch a family movie together, or just to watch the kids whirl around and play. I’m thankful to be back in a place that feels like home to me, after living in so many different places for so many years. I’m thankful for our little farm behind the house, for our growing self-sufficiency and our closeness to nature and the joy to be found in doing simple, humble chores. Robert Frost, ever an evocative poet, wrote “Not yesterday I learned to know/The love of bare November days/Before the coming of the snow” in My November Guest. November used to be my least favorite month, when I last lived in Maine, but in the passing of the years I’ve come to embrace these long, dark evenings that give us time – and permission – to enjoy the quiet moments that our souls need in order to become replenished so we can rejoice when the days grow longer and the days become busy again.