Home for the Holidays

"New York is lovely in the wintertime, when the sidewalks are white as snow. The buildings, all the people that pass me by, how the smile on his face says he's in love." -- Rosie Thomas

It's a gorgeous weekend in New York City; the streets have always felt different to me during the holiday season, and though it's not even December yet, the anticipation and joy have already spread throughout my beautiful metropolis.

Of course, since I have a sniffle that I'd rather not see bloom into a full-fledged cold (which may be a lost cause since I couldn't breathe in my sleep and have consequently been awake since 5:30AM), I spent this entire lovely weekend indoors in flannel pajamas. Three marginally exciting things happened, though:

"Transformer man, transformer man. Sooner or later you'll have to learn the cause and effect." -- Neil Young

1. I cleaned my grandfather's apartment and, while moving a little side-table, realized that it was far heavier than it should have been. A little investigation led me to find a hidden latch, and a little more investigation caused the entire table to fold open, revealing a 1960s-era Sears Roebuck sewing machine in beautiful condition. It looks like I have a little restoration work in my future.

I also found some Sculpey polymer clay that I forgot I had, which solved the button conundrum from my second-to-last post. I made some buttons last night, then I made a scarf to match them.

"Even that's polite -- the worst pies in London! If you doubt it, take a bite... is that just disgusting? You have to concede it! It's nothing but crusting. Here, drink this; you'll need it." -- Stephen Sondheim

2. I baked a ton of Thanksgiving leftovers -- potatoes, cauliflower, asparagus, two cups of shredded turkey, and some leftover dough -- into a pot pie today, and believe it or not, it didn't turn out half-bad. Maybe I'll work on the recipe and post it one of these days.

"But I've got to stop crying! I'm not going to waste the rest of my life dreaming of a man I can never have!" -- from The Thorn Birds

3. I don't have to look at my hands when I crochet, which is fortunate since I'm a multi-tasker who can't stand to only do one thing at once. This weekend, my crocheting accomplice was The Thorn Birds, a miniseries from 1983 that spans fifty years and details a doomed love affair between a woman and the priest left in charge of her family's estate. He fights an internal war over whether he can ever love God as much as he loves her, she rails against life because she knows he is too ambitious to ever give up the Church for her, and all of it makes for ten hours of insanely good television. (It also made for controversial television in its day, mainly for the scene when he flies halfway around the world, finds her on a deserted beach, throws her down in the sand, and breaks his vow of chastity... repeatedly.) I watch the whole miniseries at least once a year, and as I'm usually a year older and wiser with each successive viewing, it always seems to inspire me in new ways. This year's viewing made me want to sit down and write an epic and meaningful story. Let's hope the impetus is still there when I finally find direction for my tale.