I really believe in stories. Everything we do every day is a story just waiting to be told. Maybe you are like me and not really sociable. So write down the story.
Memories are there all the time. This time of year is always filled for memories. Memories of friends and family and past Christmases. And wondering about what someone you know is doing this year. Memories.
It's funny. I think this leads to the same discussion I have had about dreams. People tell me all the time they don't dream. Everyone dreams. Our pitiful human brains that we think are so marvelous have to have "down time". Unfortunately neurologists have found that our brains don't really "rest". It just processes everything that has gone on during the awake time since the last sleep time.
Some of us do have fabulous dreams. I remember dreams and I write them down. I participated in a "dream study" 40+ years ago when I worked in an emergency room. The researchers were studying people who work in stressful emergency situations-ER personnel, ambulance drivers, policemen, firemen, etc. Everyone volunteered me.
I remember that they only wanted to know the emotion of a dream, not the actual content of the dream. It lasted six months. I kept my faithful diary, and I think I was the most active participant. One of the researchers would meet with us monthly, collect the diaries, and give us new diaries. After three months it became clear that mine was different from the others.
I met with the doctors that were conducting the research. They would ask me specific questions about my diaries. I think they were amazed that I could actually remember details the dreams. Finally one of them said my dreams were cyclical. It was a female researcher who said she thought my dreams were in sync with the moon cycles. They followed up with that and it was.
See-another memory. I know it has nothing to do with the season, but a memory that came out into a story.
I listen to audio books while I spin and knit. I don't like a complicated story that I have to pay that much attention to. So a story is spun into the yarn or knitted into the fabric. Not just my story of it's life history, but from words being read to it.
Speaking of knitting, my handspun project is on the verge of being frogged. I ran out of blue handspun. I ordered some yarn that I was hoping would be close. It isn't. It leaves a definite stripe that would be fine if I had enough of the original blue to finish out the second front piece. I don't. Ugh. I guess I will try to make a pillow out of the back. Or frog the whole damn thing. I don't know yet.
I have finished 12 hexagons of Persian Dreams. I am now going to start putting some together. I want to see how it looks. I need a little break and that would be a nice thing to do.
I am spinning yak/silk and it is wonderful. I am thinking happy thoughts about this bit of nice yarn. I don't know what it will be, but it feels nice.
The afghan is growing, but I only work on it occasionally. Maybe I just need to focus on it for a while and get it done. Maybe.
We have had a nice two weeks of a warm up in the weather. There has been a bit of rain, and lots of grayish clouds. Out of the two weeks maybe two or three full days of sun. It is just so nice to not have cold, freezing rain, or snow. I think they predict another one of those artic fronts to head south by the middle of next week. Sigh! The cold is so miserable.
Well, I guess the year is at an end. We are heading to a new year by next Sunday. I know my year is different than the calendar year, but it is still a contemplative time. One must focus some on plans for the next year. I have some serious thinking to do in 2017. It will be my 69th year in this lifetime. I must think of how I want to spend my next decade.
Helen Mirren said that 2016 has been a pretty shitty year all around. We lost a lot of our artists and we elected a new president. Things will only be interesting from this time forward with him. We have lost a few of our scientists, too, and their loss will be felt.
Happy New Year-and on to 2017.