Years ago, I started making my own Christmas cards (I can’t believe I don’t have any pictures!!! argh).  It started out of necessity really, I was a college student, completely broke, but wanting all my family and friends to know that I have been thinking of them throughout the year.  Being in art school, I had tons of supplies, and my beau at the time (now my husband) was handy with the paint and paper, and he helped me make the cards.  I think we made 30 that year.  So every year since (barring the year I was pregnant, and the past 2 years), we’ve made our cards.

We’ve always used things from our stash, but sometimes complemented them with tin and velvet and beads and cellophane.  I would start thinking about cards after every new year, try to get started during the summer, but never really start until mid-December.  For the few years while this has been on hiatus (due in large part to becoming a mom and figuring life out again), I so wanted to make cards.  I think about family and friends all the time, but I’m not as fabulous at keeping in touch, and I always feel like these cards are my way of saying, “I’ve been thinking about you all year long…”

It’s been on my little wish list to start again this year.  So, now that it is after Thanksgiving, I thought it would be a good time to start. It’s a family affair.  We’re making cards, working on them after dinner.  The list has grown to well over 100. Tonight we started prepping, cutting and painting cardboard stars.  Everything is from around the house. The only thing we’re buying this year are the stamps.

It was a lot of fun.  I think Iz is about the age where memories stick around.  I love that we can do things like this as a family.  Family traditions are so important and can be loads of fun.  I get pretty giddy thinking about the memories we are making as a family and wonder what Iz will remember and cherish.   I love the holiday season.  I love taking the time to make things that will let our family and friends know that we are thinking of them.  I can’t wait to do more tomorrow night.

I’m sure by now, you’re up to date on the whole brouhaha about Jane Brocket’s book The Gentle Art of Domesticity. You can hear the interview that sparked it on BBC Women’s Hour.

I don’t really need to add my 2¢ (but…). I think you know, after all, I’ve sewn all my life making my own clothes and many, many gifts, been the breadwinner for many years, taught myself to knit, CHOSE to leave my office job to raise my daughter, and most recently launched a business, yes, a sewing business.

Through blogs, circles, groups all of these have social aspect too. For me it’s all about inspiration. I hope to inspire others and be inspired. How boring if I sat in my chair in front of the television by myself and did nothing but veg? I don’t want a mush brain. I choose to sew and knit and bake and craft it up. Keep my brain thinking about patterns and colors and textures, all of which include color theory, math and vocabulary and pattern making. I want to learn new things. I rarely do the same project twice, I’d rather pick something I haven’t done before, something challenging, change the pattern, scale, use an unexpected color or medium. It’s even better if I can experience it with like minded individuals who are just as passionate (or more) about it as I am. And all this while I raise my daughter and make a home for my family (I didn’t say it would pass the white glove test).

It’s disappointing to me to hear people complain about what other people do with the choices they make about the creative outlets they choose. While I wouldn’t want to run a marathon, 26 miles isn’t for me, I’ll be their cheerleader on Lafayette Ave (NYC Marathon route). I don’t want to write a book, but hey if that’s what you want to do, go for it, I can’t wait to read it.

Maybe those complainers need to be more critical with their own creative outlet choices than with others, and should be thrilled that they are able to choose what’s best for them.

sporozoan embroidery, originally uploaded by printtroll.

That’s right. Send Rob a t-shirt, a skirt, a scarf, hat, bag, bib, onesie, and he’ll hand and machine embroider it with his sporozoan. He’ll send it back with his art embroidered on it in the SASE you sent with your article. You can find out more about the sporozoan on his blog and website.

I have forgotten how important it is to take time for things. I’ve kind of forgotten how to do it I think. I’ve forgotten to take a few moments some time during the day to think about what is going on, put thoughts and feelings into perspective and focus on the day and what is important. I’m always busy thinking about what’s next, what does she need? a nap? a snack? a potty break? What goes in his lunch today, tomorrow, this week? Is the laundry done? Did I empty the dishwasher? What should I make for dinner?

This morning during our weekly ritual of breakfast at the local joint, I got about 5 minutes to myself. Iz and her dad were out walking around saying hi to all the other diners. No one asking me for anything. No one demanding my attention. No one needing me to entertain. Since we weren’t home, I couldn’t be distracted by the daily do’s.

This last week I remembered to take a wee break after dropping Iz off for the morning. I took my tea outside and sat on our big rock, and just noticed things around me. Now sitting there this morning for my 5 minutes, I realized that I really need this time to myself, to organize my thoughts and just relax and focus.

I know that taking this time will help me enjoy all the little things.  I don’t want to miss or waste a second of these years.  Iz is so little still, and it will just fly right by me if I don’t pay attention.

Rob was driving home the other day, and in the middle of the road was an elderly woman with bunches of hydrangeas in her hands.  She wasn’t going to let Rob pass, so he stopped. He stopped because she reminded him of his Grandma.  This is something she would do.  This kind, sweet old woman was cutting  her bushes back and didn’t want the flowers to go to waste.  He got a big bunch.  The two cars after him got big bunches too.