Happy *cough* New Year! (Achooo!)

Happy New Year friends! 
At the risk of sounding ancient, the more years I see, the faster they seem to roll by me. It seems impossible that it is 2017. Anyone else? 

Of course, I started the new year with a bang: sinus cold! I've been fighting something ugly for the past two weeks now and I have to say, I'm ready for it all to be over. I'm finally on the uptick I think. I hope. My house is a sea of tissues and half empty water glasses. My almost two weeks of vacation was spent putting a Laura-sized divot in the couch and finishing a few TV shows. Not all bad, but now that I'm finally starting to feel better, it is time to join the land of the living...and get to cleaning up the house. (And eventually back to running? I mean UGH but also, do I miss it? Mostly no. But a little yes, too.)

Christmas holidays weren't all bad of course, just intensely busy. Little and Big Sister (husbands and kids) were all able to come home for Christmas. It was loud, it was crazy, it was hilarious and I wish we could have had more time together. 

Guys. I finished that sweater that I've been working on for almost two years! I've already gifted it but I'll see if I can snag some pictures of it and share them with you. Without a big project like that in the background, I'm feeling a little ... sad? But it won't last for long because I'm working with a friend to make a blanket for her living room sofa. It involves a lot of math (that she does mostly. Thankfully.) and counting rows and such (that's mine). The exciting thing about it, though, is that it is something she and I designed together. The first time I'm truly working a large project with a self-designed pattern. I'm nervous but excited to see how it will turn out. I finished a bunch of other projects for Christmas presents and such, so I'm a little in-between knitting adventures. With the freezing weather we've been having lately, I have been in the mood to knit a warm hat for myself. I'm also halfway through a fingerless glove pattern, which besides the blanket, is my only current work in progress. It is a challenge with cables, so I'm in love. The biggest challenge is going to be adding thumbs to it. And well, I've never done that before and it is incredibly daunting. 

I keep track of my reading over at Scattered Wits, but if you were following, I didn't meet my reading goal last year. And I'm honestly doing okay with that. Yes, I was bummed. (Maybe more like a lot.) But one of the reasons I didn't finish was because the larger reading project I had going was reading through the New Testament in a year. That one? Yeah, that one I finished. It has taught me so much about Jesus and the way he asks his followers to live that it felt like I was learning about him for the first time. And Paul's letters have to be some of my favorite books in the New Testament. So this year, I reduced my reading challenge by half and will try to make it through the Old Testament. So that's my biggest challenge this year. I mean, besides the thumbs. 

We've had two snows so far this year. If I hadn't been sick and partially unable to breathe, I was seriously considering a snow walk. I've always wanted to do one of those. We had a light dusting today and there is a call for freezing rain tonight. The weather continues to be frightful, but it is off to work for me. (In the whole "being sick for two weeks," I haven't been cooking too much. Dinner tonight will be very interesting...)

A brand new year with so many new things to come. Some of them are planned. Most of them? Probably not. This year feels like a good year to be extra hopeful, to keep my eyes open and heart ready for whatever happens. New adventures. New friends. More old friends. More life. More joy. 

Once more onto the breach, dear friends, once more. 

Starting to look like Fall...

Last week, we had a cold snap that I thought would surely put us into fall a few weeks early. For good or for ill, that was just not the case. The sun is still hot for my mid-morning jogs. We did get cooler evenings out of the deal, though. I am loving sleeping with my hand-knit jumbo blanket I made last year. Almost so much that I'm considering another blanket...clearly, I've forgotten the headache that was knitting with size 50 needles and three balls of yarn at a time. And even though the mornings would be enhanced by a hot cup of coffee...'tis the season for allergy issues. I have been coffee free for about two weeks, minus two days. It is the strangest feeling to go about my day without coffee but also a little refreshing.

Speaking of knitting (even though I don't think I've mentioned this on my blog), I've started knitting hats this year! I guess it was about two years ago that I got back into knitting. It required an online refresher course and a lot of patience with myself. I did mostly simple scarves the first year, then graduated to cable knits and complicated stitches. I did a few mug cozies last year too. I'm not a huge fan of using them but they are super cute and super easy to knit up. 
I've just finished my second hat this morning. I'm still kind of in awe that it "worked" meaning I took a ball of yarn and made A THING that is wearable. I love the excitement I get from a finished project. It's so much better than the thing I feel after my run...which is usually just pain.
My next project is a simple scarf pattern (a huge relief after the lace patterned hat) that I'm knitting as a gift. I'm hoping to be able to focus on it a bit more now that I've finished my hat.

Classes are back in session and we are almost done with week four. The students are in a bit of a fog as colds make the rounds and assignments start coming due. Our slightly archaic printers still make my life interesting. It's anyone's guess if they will all be working at any given time and if simply clearing the jam will work or if it will require a full on exorcism to get things back up and running.

I know you noticed it and no, I'm not gonna talk about it. What I DO want to talk about is that my niece (who is now THREE whole years old! Where did the time go?) ran half a mile with me last week. It was the highlight of my week (and still would have been even if I didn't get sick for three days). She was cranky, the way almost-three-year-olds get, and so I decided it was time for a run. I changed and when she saw me putting on my sneakers, she also wanted to put sneakers on. 

"Okay," I said, "Let's go get the jogging stroller." 
"Nooooo! I munna do running feet!" 

Um...okay. We hit the sidewalk and she didn't stop running. Even after we did the loop around the development. 
"Hey, we are back at the house! Are you ready to be done running?" 

She didn't answer me so much as she just kept running. Before the end of the second lap though, she was ready to be done. We took breaks and jumped some hopscotch. We raced each other to stop signs. Then she was done with everything and she became Sonora Webster and I was Redlips, her amazing diving horse. We galloped into the front yard a sweaty laughing mess. 
At dinner later that night, I thanked her for doing running feet with me and told her that I had fun being with her. She looked at me seriously and said, "Thanks, Aunt Lawa, for doing running feet and meeting our goals."

For all the cranky, she really is the most precious girl I've ever met.Every time I talk with her I can hardly believe that she was once a tiny helpless baby who loved to snuggle. Getting her to sit still eating dinner is a chore; good luck getting her to hold still long enough for a good bye hug. Even so, if you don't get a hug or a kiss, you can usually get a dragon roar from her. I'll take one of those any day.

A Tired Faith & Dusty Offerings

There have been at least two times in my life (in recent history) when I knowingly used my gifts when I didn't want to. Both times, I ended up being surprised and amazed by the grace I was rewarded with.
It shouldn't surprise me any more, but it does.

Recently I was asked to sign a song for a good friend of mine. Of course I said yes, but when I first listened to the song I had more misgivings than this song had repeats. And boy, did it have a lot.
The list was long: it wasn't the style I usually signed, the words were so modern, the repeats, etc. I put off looking at it until it was far too late and I spent a week practically kicking and screaming, complaining to anyone who would listen, but begrudgingly learning this song.

I ended up learning all the signs and by Saturday I felt rather confident that things would go well. I mean, as confident as I could be given the amount of time I had left to study (zero) and number of days until the performance (um, again, zero). I ran through it a couple of times before bed and then decided it would have to be enough. I sent at least five alarms, got ready for bed early (for me, of course) and tried to sleep.

I was jolted awake sometime around 3 AM to the shouts and arguments of my downstairs neighbors. I tried to will myself back to sleep, knowing that if I got up to do anything, I would be unable to even think about sleeping. I couldn't tell you how long the noise went on but when my alarm went off at 6 a.m., I was sure I could afford a few more moments of sleep. However, the 4 other alarms I set didn't go off and I found myself waking up 15 minutes before I needed to leave. Things were just not going my way.

I aggressively ignored some of the speed limit signs on my way to church. I prayed that the cops would either all be asleep or at church already and that the people in front of me weren't going to my church. It wasn't just that I had overslept; I was late heading to my first practice and first performance of the song I really wish I hadn't agreed to sign.

Thankfully, I got to church with enough time to run through the song 1.5 times with the rest of the team. Unfortunately, most of the coffee I had hastily made that morning was still in my travel mug. I gulped furiously. As I gulped, our keyboardist prayed for us before the service started. His prayer quieted me and reminded my heart that this thing we were doing was simply enhancing the vocalist's gift. I needed to hear that.

I'm always nervous when I sign. Always. Even if it is a song I choose and like, I get nervous. But here I was, exhausted, under-caffeinated, wishing I was somewhere else. This was more than just normal nerves. 

I signed twice on Sunday, first service and second service. In between services, I talked with friends. I've written about these friends before, the ones who ask "How are you?" and "Are you safe?" and "Do you need anything?" and expect an honest and real answer. The ones who can see the tears in my eyes before I really know they are there. They could see I was exhausted on all levels and made sure to ask me about it. I started waking up. Not just in the way you do when the coffee kicks in, but in that way you do when your soul has been run down for so long that you think you are alone in the universe and you finally start seeing a way out.

It wasn't until I started signing in the second service that it all really hit me. I was signing about tired faith and a vast feeling of hopelessness and I didn't realize I was signing about me until that moment. I might have been asked to sign the song to help spread the message of God's love and grace to the congregation, but in that moment, the message of the song was for me.

I wasn't on my best form. It was the first song I've signed in ages, probably since Easter. My gift that morning was a halfhearted dusty offering. But in all of that, I left church that morning with a tear in my eye and the echoes of hope in my heart.

Growing Up

When I was your age, I used to think “When I’m grown up I’ll know what I’ll want, I’ll be sorted.” But you never really know what you want, you never feel grown up, not really, you never sort it all out.

--Sarah Jane Smith

I ran across this quote on the Internet a few months ago and fell in love with it. It seemed to sum up all of my feelings on growing up and how I always hoped I would just *know* what I wanted to do, what I wanted in general and that I would, indeed, be sorted. It was a reminder that it is okay to not always know what you want, that it's okay if you never really sort it all out. Sarah Jane IS a grown up when she says this, so it must be okay to not feel grown up if a grown up is the one saying the words. 

I found it again a few weeks ago and instead of it being inspirational, I found it rather depressing! "You never sort it all out." How did I ever think that was an encouraging thought about growing up and adulthood things?

I have since printed this quote out and taped it to my monitor at work. I look at it almost every day and you know what? It stopped being encouraging. It stopped being depressing. It simply became a truth. Too often, I think, we place this grand emphasis on "growing up" and becoming some glorified version of every adult we ever wanted to be like. It doesn't happen like that. "You never really know what you want, you never feel grown up, not really..." You know what? I'm glad. I think we grow up with this vision that actual grown ups are boring and sad and have to pay bills all of the time. Which, in part, is true. But if that is really all that being grown up is, I don't want to be that person. And if you never really know what you want, it doesn't mean you don't try to find it.   

In the movie Anna and the King, Anna comments about her life taking her down roads that lead absolutely no where. In reference to their on-going discussion about the differences in their religions, she jokingly asks the king, "What would Buddha say of that?" The king answers with a knowing smile, "That roads are for journeys, ma'am, not destinations."

Movie Nights

I've been in my new place for well over a month now. Yay! 
And while everything looks basically moved in, I have boxes in every room that still have stuff in them that need to find a home. I'm getting better at ignoring it, but every now and then, in a quiet moment, when I'm sitting with my tea watching a movie or reading a book or just existing in my place, the boxes start to get loud. Insisting they need to be put away. 
They are extra loud recently because, as I am in my place longer, the more I realize its just me in this place. It isn't bad. Not at all. But when I was living at home I had built in community, if you will. Days could pass before I saw my mom, due to our schedules, but we would leave notes, things would be moved--something to let me know that another person inhabited the space with me. I don't have that any more and it sometimes makes me lonely. 
To combat that feeling, and cause I love her, my friend Rachel and I started a weekly movie night. Ish. She's in Massachusetts and I'm here. Using Skype makes the distance feel not so far. (I mean it still is, and nothing quite is the same as real person interaction, but I'll take what I can get right now...) We did it last week, and again last night. When we started, with cult classic Shaun of the Dead staring the hilarious Simon Pegg, I don't think we planned that it would become a thing. I hope I'm not jinxing it by writing about it here, but I love that we do it. This week it was Sliding Doors. It was a movie that she brought with her to London. I think her opinion of me went down a little when she found out I'd never seen it before. We fixed that and I now own it. And love it. For me, it is as much about London as it is about friendship and love. Rachel and I love the same bits, loathe the same bits and laugh at pretty much the whole movie. It would have been ten times better if she had actually been here, sitting on the couch with me, but ya know? Watching it with her, laughing with her, making sad faces at the not so happy parts? It felt like she was here. 
Now I'm off to get ready for work. There is an AED training today...I think those are the right initials. I have no idea, really. I do know that I have all kinds of feels from the latest Lizzie Bennet Diaries (can we just get those two crazy kids together?! Also, I need to see Darcy. Not just hear his voice...grr...) and the coffee is just starting to hit me in the best way possible. It's not spring yet, but I have the window cracked to let some fresh air in the place and it is making me feel kinda happy.