Good Things

There are many good things in my life and many blessings that I do not deserve. Going home for Christmas was a good way to remind myself of that. My parents home is always a little crazy around holidays. This year was even more so then normal. First off my grandparents were up from Florida which was nice, but it meant that there were 8 people sleeping, eating, and taking showers in my parents house. Plus a dog and cat to get in the way of all those feet. Secondly there was no snow, but it was cold. So there was nothing fun outside to do, but there was really not enough room inside. Thirdly the construction of the new mud room was still very much in progress.

But despite all the crazyness, and too many people, there is a real blessing about being home. I got to see some friends (although not as many as I would have liked, nor for as long as I would have liked). I had a couple of fun talks with my grandparents. I got to hang out with my brothers. I pray, laugh, sing, joke, cry, dance, sigh, and be with some of the most amazing people I know. So many good things. And it makes me excited to see what is ahead in this coming year. It also makes me wonder what is ahead.

Let Me Die Aspiring

My Great, Great, Great, Great Grandfather S. Hall Young was an Alaskan Missionary during the gold rush. He was a close friend of John Muir and traveled with him. The poem below was one that Young had started before his sudden death and never finished.

Let me die, working
Still tackling plans unfinished, tasks undone!
Clean to its end, swift may my race be run.
No laggard steps, no faltering, no shirking;
Let me die, working!


Let me die, thinking.
Let me fare forth still with an open mind, 
Fresh secrets to unfold, new truths to find, 
my soul undimmed, alert, no question blinking;
Let me die thinking.


Let me die, laughing.
No sighing o'er past sins; they are forgiven.
spilled on this earth are all the joys of Heaven.
The wine of life, the cup of mirth still quaffing;
Let me die, Laughing!


Let me die, giving.


Let me die, aspiring.

I've recently rediscovered this poem. Part of me wants to know how he would have finished it. And the other part of me likes that it is unfinished. He was working on this very poem when he died. Its a beautifully sad reminder of the power of death and the joy we have in what we have been given. Spilled on the earth are all the joys of heaven.

Knitting

So this year I decided that I would knit several of my Christmas gifts. Part of me as always loved knitting. I'm not horribly good at it. I know how to knit and purl. I'm kind of good at following patterns. I'm really good at making a mistake and having to undo several rows in order to fix said mistake.

Knitting was one of those creative things that my mum taught me when I was younger. My dislike of having my mum telling me what to do, meant I did not really get very good at knitting. If I could go back in time I think I would tell my younger self to shut it. Funny now I wish I knew how to do more then just basic knitting.

Of course by the time I'm done with all my projects I'm going to be really good at basic patterns. At some point I might even get the guts to try my hand at socks or gloves. Of course I think I would need to get a lot better at following directions before that happens. Hopefully after Christmas I'll be able to share some pictures of my creations...

Christmas Flowers

One of my Christmas Cactuses has decided to bloom this year. I currently have three different plants and they seem to like to take turns flowering. I love these plants. Before they bloom they don't look like much. They are a bunch of oddly shaped leaves that build on themselves in rows. Then all of the sudden you have this little red dots at the end of one of the leaves. This dot is followed by several others. Slowly the dots grow until they break open into these cascades of red, pink, and white. And the flowers last for a long time. 

I love this plant. Most of the time they are just some cactus. They are impossible to kill (not that I have tried). They aren't necessarily beautiful. Then they flower and they are suddenly beautiful and interesting. Sometimes I feel like these plants. Most of the time I'm hiding waiting out, enjoying good food and sunlight. But I'm also waiting, waiting for the time to come when I can just kick peoples socks off. I feel like I'm still waiting to arrive. 

I wonder what else December has in store.