It's the time of the year where I lose time. I've detailed before the crazy that is January and early February in our family because of birthdays, namesdays, and church holidays, but having got through Theophany yesterday, we have a brief reprieve for a week or two before the next thing. Still a lot of basketball to get through!
I find myself in a Robert Frost sort of mood lately--two roads diverged in a wood and all that, wondering about choices made I when I was younger, etc. I suppose it is the normal thing for this time of life. Piglet is in the throes of college search and admissions testing and all that jazz, so it is probably natural to reflect on that time in my own life too. How is it nearly 30 years since high school? I just discovered Irene Smith's Substack and it is like she is living in my head, right down to the overalls. (Well, except for the part about beauty in youth. Eh, not so much).
Time is weirdly elastic; it is more like the sea than a straight line, I find. It folds back on itself and stretches out past the horizon, all at the same time. I'm reading Tim Winton at the moment and he is skilled at writing about the experience of the passage of time. I've read some Kazuo Ishiguro recently too, which has a similar kind of wistful feel to it, even if the subject matter is vastly different.
It will surprise absolutely no one that I went down another actor rabbit hole. In my defense, (although I don't think I need one, not really), I lost a whole month in November and early December to illness, and there isn't much you can do when sick like that. So, rabbit holes. This one featured Simon Baker. My favorite rom-com has him as the love interest and it was fun to watch that again. I can relate to Kenya very much.
Previously, I had never managed to get past the first two or three episodes of The Mentalist, but I watched all seven seasons in November and early December and enjoyed them very much. They really stuck the landing on the series finale, and ended it in a way that was both narratively and emotionally satisfying. I then tried The Guardian, which I had also tried before and didn't get into, but I loved it this time. The series finale was good, not quite as good as The Mentalist, but it ended in a narratively satisfying way.
I've been watching Baker's films too, included his directorial debut,
Breath. Highly recommend that film. It is so beautifully shot and the story is thematically one that I think everyone can relate to on some level. His more recent work is good and thought-provoking.
During all this sick time, I worked on a fingering weight sweater using the
Autumn Whirlpool pattern and nearly lost my ever-loving mind. The chart was written using symbols that are opposite to the way most pattern writers notate, so I had to have the key in front of me at all times and look
every.single.row to make sure I was knitting the thing correctly. The first 8-10 rows I seriously contemplated giving up and going with a different pattern, but after that, I started to groove with the chart and it got better. In the end, I'm glad I soldiered on, because it is a great textured yoke and I like the finished sweater very much.
My only complaint (minor!) is that I should have sized down, but that is a common problem for me these days. I'm probably going to make a matching cowl or convert the neckline to a turtleneck because I get cold so easily and crew necklines are of limited usefulness to me in the cold months. I did that with my Cinnamomum sweater and like the options the cowl gives me very much!
Since my first bout with Covid in March 2020, my taste has never quite come back to normal, so I go in cycles with what tastes good (not much, to be honest) and what is not good or downright revolting. I've had a short run of coffee being a little bit gaggy, so switched to tea. My husband had bought some little gift tea tins the last time he was in the UK on business, so I've been enjoying that.
My opinion is that tea should be hot, black, strong, and sweet. Fight me if you want. I learnt to drink it in Russia, and that's how it was always served to me, so there you go. And one must leave the spoon in the cup whilst drinking it. All else is outrage! (Just kidding). If the glass isn't 1/3 leaves and sugar, is it even tea? Ha!
As for writing, I started developing a couple of stories in late December; the book is on hold at the moment. I had great momentum on it right up to the moment I got sick, and since then, it has been hard to get back to it. I'm not narratively stuck any longer, and I was able to write a bunch that I haven't transcribed into my working manuscript yet (I write long hand and type it later), but I'm questioning whether the story needs to be told at all. It's probably that I just need to get back into it and I'll be fine. I have most of a (terrible) first draft finished, so perhaps it is good to let it sit a while anyway. Meantime, I'm knitting a LOT, including reclaiming yarn from sweaters that don't fit or suit, and fixing some other sweaters with minor issues. 'Tis the season for yarn, I reckon!
