Tuesday Things

I think I need to get my big camera out just so I start taking some horizontal pictures. I don’t know what it is, but I only ever take vertical shots with my phone.

We’re settling into 2020. My office is a disaster. My to do list is too long. I picked up some bad habits while coping with holiday stress and both my house and my head feel very messy and resistant to order. I also feel very…content and happy and loved. So there’s that.

Knitting: I’m kind of stuck with Jesse’s sweater so I have one sleeve complete but nothing else and I can’t bring myself to tear it out and I can’t bring myself to keep going so…socks. I did a quick and dirty yarn/project inventory and am trying to balance out the big projects with socks for the year. My piles make it clear that I think I have more knitting time and knit faster than I actually do.

Watching: Jesse and I watched Ozark on Netflix. I really liked the cast and the story but it gave me really weird dreams and was just dark and disturbing. I know I won’t watch the new season when it comes out. I’m thinking of cancelling my Netflix and HBO subscription. I cancelled Hulu last year and haven’t missed it and really want fewer screen hours.

Reading: I didn’t read nearly enough toward the end of 2019. I enjoyed Make Time by Jake Knapp and John Zeratsky and found that when I incorporated some of their ideas I like them but I have a hard time sticking to them. I’m currently reading Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel while Get a Life, Chloe Brown, The Water Dancer, and Topics of Conversation (all BOTM picks) are on my TBR pile. Try as I might, I’ve never been a “listen to a book” reader, but I want to make more of an effort with that this year to cut down on screen watching while knitting. Do any of you have audible? Do you like it?

Making: I’m *almost* done with my Washington D.C. cross stitch. Finally. It’s been over a year but considering how much I’ve picked it up and put it down, I’m forgiving myself. I want to do three and have them framed for our guest room. I can’t decide between Chicago (a place I’ve been) and San Francisco (a cooler pattern and a place I’d love to go). I also committed to a year long workbook to creatively journal the year and have been playing with paints and watercolors and markers. Basically, I’m making lots of bad art (which is better than no art). I’d like to get back into the kitchen and try my hand at bread again (my first couple attempts weren’t pretty but I bought a book on it that is very exact and scientific and I think will help me get some basics down). I guess with a word like practice for 2020, I just want to make all kinds of stuff.

How about you? What are you making, reading, watching, and doing?


We have some big decisions and some big shifts heading our way this year. I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m ready to shut the door on 2019 and embrace all this year has to offer. I promised in November that I wasn’t going to make goals and spreadsheets and big plans in order to “get my shit together” but I do have a word this year and I do have some intentions.

I’ll be using this creativity workbook throughout 2020.

Practice allows for mistakes and facilitates progress. Practice is fun. Practice can be (the good kind of) hard. To me, the word practice feels freeing and expansive and hopeful and that sounds like a lovely way to start a new year and a new decade.

My Intentions for the Year


  • authenticity
  • creativity
  • adventures
  • blog posts
  • movement
  • outdoor time
  • big love


  • screen time
  • chasing approval
  • night-owling
  • perfectionism
  • doubt
  • stuff

I’m excited to see you throughout 2020!!

On Christmas

I sat with a pile of gifts at the counter waiting to be checked out. I looked at the things sitting there and thought about the commercialism and consumerism and waste that just goes into all that…stuff. I wanted to walk away. I waited patiently, making small talk, as the items were wrung up and bagged.

I’m tired of forced cheer, but I love the twinkle lights and the snow and the aisle of wrapping paper. I like all the options and the promise of something new neatly tucked away with a bow and a label on top. And, for the second year in a row, I’ve had a meaningful conversation with a stranger in the wrapping aisle. (I wonder what it means that I, who usually doesn’t partake in any kind of small talk and certainly not with strangers, ends up talking to someone about a family squabble one year and a recent cancer diagnosis another. Is it something about the wrapping paper or Christmas that makes people willing to talk to a stranger about the hurt they are carrying around? Maybe I should try it next year? I wonder if I’d find a person as willing to listen as me.)

I think like most grown-ups I have a love/hate relationship with this holiday. It’s all anticipation and magic and joy and expectation and work and loneliness and family (which ever side of the love/hate coin that falls on – or maybe just the edge). I love advent and the season of anticipation. I love “putting hay in the manger” (aka finding ways to make the world a little brighter for those whose days may not be so bright). I love celebrating the darkness (and return of light) with candles and strands of twinkling bulbs. I hate feeling like everything good gets lost in the shuffle. I hate feeling lonely. I hate the knowledge that no gift opening will ever feel as good as the Christmas when I was thirteen and my grandmother gave me the watch that I WANTED WANTED WANTED (and was sure no one bought me).

I still feel glimpses of magic between my bah-humbug. I went to Mass where we sang Christmas carols and my daughter held my hand for just an instant longer that necessary after the Our Father. We visited with family and ate shrimp off a Christmas tree (I don’t know, it’s become a beloved tradition) and opened presents after which my son curled up on my lap and rested his head on my shoulder for so long we thought he’d fallen asleep. Today was a simple, peaceful day in our pajamas playing with the things Santa brought us. We ate a lovely meal lovingly prepared. I learned how to play Minecraft using a game controller and had my battleship sunk. So the magic is still there – it’s just dimmer and quieter and never in the thing and far too fleeting.

Anyway, all that to say…I hope you found some moments of Christmas magic this year amidst the gray and the consumerism and the hard. I hope you had someone to listen to you – even if it was just for a brief moment in the wrapping paper aisle at Target. And finally, I appreciate you listening to me as I type into the void. Have a very merry!!!