- Happy Christmas! It is, actually. Even with a very small family celebration, it always feels like a crapshoot; you can do the same things in the same way and still somehow the mood is just a bit crap. But when it’s good, our quiet little cozy day, it’s lovely. And this year is lovely.
- Santa did extremely well. A good number of presents, well balanced between the two kids and between Wholesome Crafty Stuff to Make and wildly exciting plastic stuff to, I guess, eventually break. Everybody happy.
- We had a delicious dinner without any form of roast beast. I consider this something of a milestone in my development as a human being. Not the vegetarian aspect (we don’t eat that much meat generally) but me managing to get over the fixation on a Proper Christmas Dinner. I’ve always had a very specific idea of what that is, but Armin having grown up German, he doesn’t care. The kids don’t care. Doing a big roast for four people, three of whom don’t care, is just stupid. And my cooking’s okay but somehow it’s never satisfying anyway. And Armin, who makes more of an effort than any of us to eat veggie, is always a bit sad at the dead animal part. So this year I made a simple but very delicious spaghetti thing (artichokes, cherry tomatoes, olives and capers in a mustard cream sauce) and we were all very happy. And so much less hassle! I don’t feel like I missed out at all. We did have proper Christmas pudding, but you know, I rather think I might skip that too next year. So many other interesting desserts I could try.
- I managed to finish sewing up Claudia’s Beekeeper’s Quilt at about 1am this morning. It didn’t have to be done for Christmas, but I’m glad it was. It’s rather wonderful to be done with this big project at last. And now, well, now I get to start a new scrap blanket for Max, because he’s feeling left out.
- I did NOT make Armin crochet slippers for Christmas. Despite finding a pattern that he agreed looked like exactly the right thing (and he does need slippers). I wasn’t enjoying making them and he didn’t particularly care about getting homemade slippers and I had other gifts for him, and while I could easily feel guilty about going “eh, screw it” instead of ploughing on, I really don’t. I just don’t think I needed to prove my love in that particular way, and maybe that too is a sign of personal growth.
Woolly thoughts (and fuzzy logic)
Sometimes I sits and knits, and sometimes I just sits.
Woolly thoughts (and fuzzy logic) 