The Art of Spending Time Alone

I am home alone. All evening. So when I walked in the door from work, I spent the first 15 minutes thinking: I CAN DO ANYTHING I WANT! ANYTHING AT ALL! WHAT SHALL I DO?

Things I considered:

1. Write the 5th paragraph of the novel I started 18 months ago.
2. Make the handmade greeting cards I bought the supplies for last summer.
3. Knit.
4. Read.
5. Read, on the pretty screen porch along the back of my house.
6. Read, on the pretty screen porch along the back of my house, with a cold cocktail.
7. Get a good start on that pile of laundry that has been piling for more than two weeks.
8. Read at least one of the seven magazines I subscribe to (and never read).
9. Work on my daughter's high school scrapbook. (Admission: I haven't actually started this, and she graduated last weekend.)
10. Work on the blog I plan to launch next month.
11. Actually write the blog post I was supposed to post today on R-blog.
12. Sit quietly, alone, with my own thoughts and no TV.
13. Watch all the TV I want as late as I want and on exactly the channels I want to watch without discussing it with anyone.
14. Call my husband, who is on the road.
15. Facebook.
16. Work on the four iphoto books I've started and abandoned in the last three years.
17. Call my Mother.
18. Bleach my whites. (Many of them need it. Seriously.)
19. Iron.
20. Surf for the very best girl movie I can find.
21. Go to the movies. Alone.
22. Take the dog for a walk.
23. Take myself for a walk.
24. Look at that book that is going to show me how to "lean into" extreme health.
25. Get a plan for cutting out sugar. Or carbs. Or one entire diet category that takes planning.
26. Clean out the fish tank.
27. Clean out the hermit crab tank.
29. Clean out one of the 36 wardrobe boxes I brought from my Mother's attic when we emptied her house.
30. Tool around Etsy.
31. Organize my jewelry drawer.
32. Catch up on TIVO.
33. Research interesting things to do on vacation in two weeks.
34. Book something interesting to do on vacation in two weeks.
35. Wrap the 14 graduation presents on my kitchen table.
36. Write sweet notes to go with them.
37. Delve into the insurance company's denial of my dental and my daughter's dermatologist claims.
38. Surprise my daughter by cleaning out her closet.
39. Mail the graduation photos.
40. Mail the graduation presents I haven't mailed.
41. Buy the graduation presents I haven't bought.
42. Call Julie about plans for travel on Sunday.
43. Drink a big glass of water. With lemon.
44. Or a cup of hot tea.
45. Finally organize my yarn, patterns and knitting needles.
46. Climb into bed early, and read.
47. Climb into bed early, and sleep.
48. Catch up on that long list of emails I didn't deal with because they required some sort of decision.
49. Watch a movie on the big screen TV in the den, holding the remote myself.
50. Sketch in my sketchbook.
51. Paint with watercolors.
52. Paint with oils.
53. Put away the CDs that are in a pile to the left of the CD player.
54. Organize them.
55. Hootsuite my tweets for the next week.
56. Search for some more bird apps for my Dad's ipad, for Father's Day.
57. Download a journaling app to my ipad.
58. Write in the journal I already have.
59. Meditate.
60. Pray.
61. Make a list of things I could do.

Finally, the Agnes Clutch

The other day my friend Pam came to the office and spotted my finished Agnes Clutch on the big kitchen/conference table.  "Are you actually using your new clutch? Or are you just carrying it around with you so everyone will see it?" she asked.

Busted.

So here it is, in all its glory.

Finished, at last. Cathy's Agnes Clutch

THINGS I MUST DO:

I think I shall try to knit a pair of socks.
Yes, yes.

Image and pattern, my knitting hero the Yarn Harlot

The Suzann Scarf

It took a year to finish, but I think it was worth it.

In January

This post first appeared at http://www.riggspartners.com/r-blog

I've long held that January is the only civilized month. With its winter arms and 5 o'clock cloak, January offers an extraordinary opportunity to slow down, curl up, hide away. In fact, I love January because it is the one month in which it is deemed perfectly respectable to do so.

In January, I read. And by that I mean I fall slowly and deeply into wonderful, winding novels that take entire afternoons that stretch into evenings that go right on with me to my cozy you-can-never-have-too-much-down bed. I skate through centuries and across continents and just for a while, take leave of the incessant demands that are my life.

In January, I sit. Our living room is built around a real wood-burning fireplace, and our neighbors know if there is smoke coming from the chimney, Cathy is In Residence.  There is just something about that fireplace, and me. I would rather sit and stare at its flames than watch TV or sit on a beach or play on my iBook. The woodsy smell, the pops and cracks, the constant tending, the red hot embers—I stare like a young lover, mesmerized.

In January, I knit. I know. So 70s. But I love the feel of yarn and the rhythm of the pattern and clickclickclick of the needles. I find deep satisfaction in making something useful. And I rejoice in the creation of something so beautiful, just Right There.

In January, I promise. I tell myself it's within my power to make time to do these things any time of the year; that there's no reason I can't take an entire afternoon IN AUGUST to sit quietly, or read, or create.

And I believe. Until inevitably, February comes, and the pause button releases.

Until then . . .

Knitting Now: The Fun Daria Bracelet

Overcoming the Fear Factor

I am a knitter. In fact, I am a knitting evangelist who dispenses needle pair after needle pair (and yummy yarn balls!) to anyone who shows the slightest interest in learning the craft. (Truth be told, you don’t really have to show an interest. Cast a casual glance my way and I will force my passion on you.)

From the early days as a high school stitcher/knitter I have relied on simple projects—one scarf two scarf red scarf blue scarf—that I knew I could complete somewhat successfully.

This Christmas, my friend Teresa Coles gave me a book called Knit 2 Together by Tracey Ullman (yes, that Tracy Ullman) and guru Mel Clark. Page after page encouraged me to Be Brave. Step Out. Do Something More Difficult Than You Think You Can Do! And so I did, and the oh-so-fabulous Doctor’s Bag is the result.

I am most proud and most pleased. And most of all, most amazed at what I really could do! (I even got an encouraging email from Mel in Australia. Gotta visit her yarn shop one day.)