“Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.”
~ Rainer Maria Rilke
If I had princesses, oh, they would look like dragons (my eyeroll at the implication that the function of princesses is to helplessly witness aside).
The winter holidays, for the past several years, have been a time of year that is just not fun for me. The past couple of years have been brighter – recognizing that I have Holiday Dragons that can be effectively managed with things like booty-shaking music (say hello to a playlist heavy on Shakira, Zap Mama, Beyonce, Fergie, Black Eyed Peas, and Missy Elliot), plenty of sleep (just say no to Bejeweled Blitz), re-reading a favorite book (John Scalzi’s Old Man’s War has done this well for me at holiday time; I save Robin McKinley’s Sunshine for when I am sick in bed), lots of brisk walks, and focusing on the delight of spending time with loved ones, instead of swords and red wine. Some of you might quirk an eyebrow – wine? Yes, when the non-drinker has calculated out how much of the bottle will go into her at what pace to result in being able to finish cooking without disaster but having to take a nap before turning into a bitter old shouty-pants, that’s probably a good sign that other options really ought to be explored, even if a nice Pinot Noir can really take the wind out of my sails.
Some of what I’ve had to do is also just grow the #’@& up. Some of that has been coming to grips with what I’ve mentioned here before: I’m an introvert, and no matter how much I actually enjoy being around other people, it saps my energy, and I need personal downtime to recharge. That gets to be a challenge during the holidays, since I’m usually working more (say hello to jobs that don’t do holiday pay!), have friends visiting from out of state, big family meals that need planning/shopping/prep. One horribly memorable year included three funerals and a long struggle out of a dark stinking mire of depression. At the end of the day, though, I’ve been fortunate and privileged and I think I’m getting better at recognizing that. Heck, that I have three dental appointments in December (two down, one to go) is a gift, when I see that I have access to modern, competent dental care, that my primary job gives me dental insurance coverage, and that I can afford the co-pay easily (especially if I cut even further back on diet soda and sparkling water – yes, sparkling water, as it turns out, is just about as bad for teeth as diet soda).
Maybe I’ll even get this pair of socks done before Chinese New Year. I am still working on the foot of the first sock, and wondering what to do about the too-tight cast-on. I was really happy with it, and still like using the 2×2 tubular cast-on, but should have used Pam Allen’s technique of working the cast-on and part of the leg in needles a size larger than needed for gauge. Cutting off the top of the leg and knitting back up (or alternately, starting a new cuff and then grafting it on – but oh how I dislike grafting as an experience) is looking like the most likely scenario. Dorothy recommended a trip to the frog pond, but these socks are for someone with big, broad feet and muscular calves and I’m really really attached to getting this first sock finished (have gotten more than halfway down the foot since this picture was taken).
