The Last Day Of The Year

Day 79: Today was the day. I officially turned "two" today...

...as in "two old!"

Happy New Year, everyone! May your coming year be filled with the love of friends and family!

Paisley Geode

Day 78: After my father passed away when I was still very young, my mother struggled to make ends meet and seldom succeeded. She took in laundry or did other housework, but we had little budget for food, let alone for frivolities. Christmas and my birthday were scant, although she always attempted to find something for me to enjoy rather than merely purchasing some necessity like clothing.

One of her regular employers had a lapidary shop and, like most kids would be, I was fascinated by the extraordinary rocks and minerals on the shelves, but of all the showy specimens on display, one geode ("thunderegg") attracted me most of all. I loved paisleys, and where it had been sliced, the saw had passed through a nodule of drusy pale amethyst, revealing a distinct paisley shape in the cut. Another similar specimen sat beside it, and both bore pricetags which even as a child I knew were out of my mother's reach.

I drooled over garnets and fool's gold crystals, I pawed through slices of agate and jasper each time my mother dropped off freshly pressed shirts at the shop, always returning to the shelf where the two geodes rested. As my 11th birthday approached, my mom asked me what I'd like. Only one thing sprang to mind: the paisley geode.

I remember distinctly that it was the cheaper of the two, and that my mother told me I could have the more expensive, larger one if I really wanted it. I declined in favor of the paisley. My mom passed $3.50 across the counter and the paisley geode was mine. As I think back now, that was one of the best birthdays ever.

Cat Nap

Day 77: He wiggles. He bounces. He runs full tilt, knocking over furniture in his wake. He hides in his tunnel, waiting for someone to tickle his tummy, whereupon he goes all silly and squirms like a gallon of angleworms which know they're about to be fishbait, and then he takes off at a lope to smack the ball in its plastic racetrack or to leap into a window, wide-eyed and ready to spring. He'll grab an ankle to get your attention and be out of sight before you can turn, or hit the kitchen linoleum as if he was coming in for a home run, sliding across the plate on a hip and an elbow. He's my Boy, my Tip, and he has more energy than a nuclear plant until he's ready for love and a nap. Then he's all purrs and weight...heavy!...an electric cat-blanket recharging his batteries at full stop, plugged into the comfort of a lap.

The Spell Of The Backwoods

Day 76: I drive by this sign fairly often since it's on the way to the train yards at Mineral and finally decided today that it had to be documented for posterity. If you'll look carefully, you can see a bit of twine which allows the lower portion to be flipped up on its hinges and secured in place. When visible, it bears the mysterious legend, "CLOSE."

Now upon initial consideration, you might be forgiven for believing that to be a misspelling of "CLOSED." However, the "garadge sale" is rarely open. In fact, it was not open today. If "CLOSE" is not displayed when merchandise is unavailable for purchase, "CLOSE" must therefore refer to something other than not being open. I rather suspect that t-shirts and blue jeans fall into the category of "CLOSE," a circumstance which, if accurate, makes me want to take a different route to Mineral for the sake of my serenity.

Spring Dreams

Day 75: The weather forecast is gruesome: heavy rain followed by rain followed by possible snow, ten days (or more) of certain stay-inside climate without a chance of reprieve, and thus my mind turns to a fervent belief in the coming of Spring, however long it's going to take. The little birds will be chirping, making nests, raising families; the flowers will bud and burst into bloom; the pasture will spring up with fresh growth and the elk will come down to browse the new grass, and the rain and the dreary grey days will become fewer and fewer until we almost wish for one to stop by as a reminder of how it was in winter. It's coming. I do believe. I really do.

From Wool To Yarn

Day 74: While the Christmas festivities have been going on, a wet llama has been hanging in my shower. The first skein of double-ply llama wool came off the wheel a few days ago and was wound on the warping board to give an even tension. Measuring out at 278 yards, it was put to soak in warm water until it was thoroughly saturated, then stretched between two rods top and bottom. The lower rod was weighted until any kinks straightened, and then it was left to dry with occasional rotations to evenly set the twist. The final result is a deliciously soft sport weight yarn for which I have no particular project in mind at present. I'll give that more serious thought when the second skein is completed!

Transition To Memory

Day 73: It's over. The excitement, the anticipation, the stress...the wrapping, the mailing, the unwrapping...the baking, the eating, the partying...it's over. Christmas 2011 is on its way to the Halls of Memory, divested of its trappings and its bows and bells, trailing behind it a wake of torn paper and snarled ribbons and a tummyache or two. And who amongst us cannot admit to a certain sense of relief at its exit, for all we enjoyed its coming? Farewell to you, season! See you next year!