I don’t know why, but I always feel that new year comes too closely after Christmas. There was a time when the new year was celebrated in March, and that sounds like a good idea to me. Spring, after all, truly feels like the beginning of a new year after the cold, sleepy months of winter. Or, perhaps Christmas should be moved to the end of January, to give us a bit of a breather between holidays, and ensure that we will have a white Christmas. That would end that stress!
The worst part of this time of year is putting all the little decorations we’ve accumulated over the years. Especially this sort of thing:
It will be about eleven more months before we see them again.
Again, or perhaps still, I’ve been making stuff. Hats, scarves, thing as made of paper, fabric and yarn. My spinning wheel still sits in the corner, waiting for me to learn how to use it. Bags of alpaca fiber are sitting in bags, waiting to be made into something. While I figure out my next move, I’ve been wet felting, more or less successfully.
New Years eve was very quiet here, and we were in bed by 10. That meant I was ready for a ride on New Year’s day. No pictures, I was too busy going around in circles. We had planned to spend some time with some of my husband’s family, but the weather got in the way—I’m a very nervous driver and when two snowflakes fall, my courage does too. So we still feel like we have a bit of holidaying to catch up on.
I hope you have a happy 2017.