mishamish has winterized our windows with plastic sheeting--something I clearly did not have anything like the patience to do last year. I aimed the hair dryer at the plastic for two minutes and then yelled: THIS IS NOT WORKING and we had blousy plastic on one window all winter. You see, while I was born in Seattle and lived there til I was 13, my main upgrowing and expectation-building were done in California. I am, as I never wanted to be, inescapably, inevitably, a California girl. Therefore, I do not understand this Preparing for Winter, this Must Wear Socks At All Times, this Huddling for Warmth. I have learned to survive it, even embrace it, and I love the snow and ice, but part of my brain will never understand why we have to put plastic sheeting on the windows and draft blockers by the doors.
But mishamish is better than that, and the whole downstairs is done and much warmer. We might actually make it through the winter--if my decision to not drop $400 on a generator yesterday does not prove to be ill-founded and hilarious.
We ventured into town in search of non-wool yarn for her and gift-making yarn for me, and are now ensconced at Bard Coffee, waiting for justbeast to get in from Augusta. I am doing very well with Christmas shopping, and will finish up tonight, most likely. I am wearing my Ashland, Oregon shirt got on the Palimpsest tour (which, by way of update, I finally have the art auction items back from Seattle and will be getting them out to buyers soon, also am about 3/4 done with the Palimpsest Blanket of Endless Tiny Bits of Love and Yarn.)
Christmas, despite my not being Christian, is a dreaming time for me. The close of the year and all the hopes and wants and dreams of childhood in one sweet, cold month. Peppermint and chocolate and pine. I love giving gifts. I love the tree. I love Julie Andrews singing carols. I love cider and laughing and curling up.
What are you dreaming of?