It’s December, and I have lists and sublists and more lists to keep track of all the making – the printing and sewing and baking and knitting and concocting. Planning, supplies, tasks, timelines. I was starting to feel like all the holiday making was just crazy-making this week, but then I realized that all the making… is what makes it the holidays for me.
Lucky for me, Dean is usually just as swept away by it as me, so we combine forces quite a lot. So far we’ve had mixed results – the first batch of candy ended up in the compost but team sewing was a resounding success. Which is about how it goes every year as we inevitably dream up projects we’ve never done before, that rely on skills we’ve never practiced.
Yesterday I went off-list and snuck in a completely unplanned project. When we pulled out the Christmas box this weekend, it struck me that Dean really needed a better stocking. So I decided to make one that would coordinate with mine that my mom made many years ago. Over my lunch break I ran out to the quilting store and picked up some holiday prints and then in the evening I jumped into the sewing . It made for a very satisfying evening – a project just simple enough to make it up as you go, to start after dinner and see it mostly done a few hours later.
The rain has been relentless for the last week, the puddles merging into small lakes and the sky looking like a dull grey twilight even at midday. There’s something about making – creating something beautiful or fun or useful, something that didn’t exist before – that feels like the sanest response to these long winter nights.