NaBloPoMo post 29: The Painted Ponies Go Up and Down
I feel a little lighter this morning, with all of that built-up garbage out in the world. I have to remember that describing pain can be as refreshing as marking down my moments of joy.
My hands are sticky with white pine sap, and nearby is the fruit of my labors: my first Advent Wreath, lying atop a paper Advent calendar for children. No chocolate in that one, just bible verses to reread and think about every single day, starting tomorrow.
I like that, the first of December being the time when Christmas (and Solstice/Hanukkah?) decorations go up. I may push that back a little to the day before Thanksgiving, if I ever get to be a Thanksgiving host. I'm not positive, might also be nice just to have the (potted or sculptural) tree be prominent, looking ready to have its bare boughs beribboned.
The service at St. Martin's today, the first Advent Sunday, was very lovely. Both the rector and the pulpit wore bright purple robes intertwined with gold and green. "Seasons are color-coded", was one of the 12 awesome things about Episcopalianism written on the T-shirt of one of my fellow Thanksgiving kitchen volunteers.
So now we are in purple- er, Advent season. I have one more post to write after this one, sometime in this busy day, and then my obligations to NaBloPoMo are over. I know there are bloggers who do this every month, but I'm just fine with a once-yearly thing. It's rewarding and exhausting.
And I feel like it's a great way to get me pumped up for the writing I'm tackling next, but I wouldn't be able to get much of that done if I was also concerned about maintaining this blog. It's one of the hardest lessons to learn: even with my life that is blessedly free of both job and childrearing/housecleaning responsibilities, I will never have the time to do everything I want to do. I make lists and prioritize them, I set up things on habitrpg.com so I can feel good twice for accomplishing them. I try to focus on finishing small projects before beginning yet another big one that I may quickly set aside in frustration.
Baby steps, towards the me that I want to be. I don't have the energy or focus to do the sprints that some can. I'm feeling really good about moving into this next phase. Hell, don't even call it Advent Season or Winter: call it December.
In December, I will take my place in the St. Martin's choir once more.
In December, I will go dancing with my boyfriend.
In December, I will play dolls with one of my fellow child-like kinky friends.
In December, I will light my menorah and sing the old blessings.
In December, I will participate in a Yankee Swap and inevitably get something amusing or lame.
In December, I will make latkes with sour cream and applesauce for my menfolk.
In December, I will have my oldest Werewolf challenge for the fourth Rank, again.
In December, I will make and then put presents under a wire tree that I made myself.
In December, I will light an Advent Wreath that I also made.
In December, I will open presents under that wire tree, with the two most important people in the world.
In December, I will turn 39.
In December, there will be fireworks at midnight as the whole world celebrates with me.
And then in January, everything will change again.
My hands are sticky with white pine sap, and nearby is the fruit of my labors: my first Advent Wreath, lying atop a paper Advent calendar for children. No chocolate in that one, just bible verses to reread and think about every single day, starting tomorrow.
I like that, the first of December being the time when Christmas (and Solstice/Hanukkah?) decorations go up. I may push that back a little to the day before Thanksgiving, if I ever get to be a Thanksgiving host. I'm not positive, might also be nice just to have the (potted or sculptural) tree be prominent, looking ready to have its bare boughs beribboned.
The service at St. Martin's today, the first Advent Sunday, was very lovely. Both the rector and the pulpit wore bright purple robes intertwined with gold and green. "Seasons are color-coded", was one of the 12 awesome things about Episcopalianism written on the T-shirt of one of my fellow Thanksgiving kitchen volunteers.
So now we are in purple- er, Advent season. I have one more post to write after this one, sometime in this busy day, and then my obligations to NaBloPoMo are over. I know there are bloggers who do this every month, but I'm just fine with a once-yearly thing. It's rewarding and exhausting.
And I feel like it's a great way to get me pumped up for the writing I'm tackling next, but I wouldn't be able to get much of that done if I was also concerned about maintaining this blog. It's one of the hardest lessons to learn: even with my life that is blessedly free of both job and childrearing/housecleaning responsibilities, I will never have the time to do everything I want to do. I make lists and prioritize them, I set up things on habitrpg.com so I can feel good twice for accomplishing them. I try to focus on finishing small projects before beginning yet another big one that I may quickly set aside in frustration.
Baby steps, towards the me that I want to be. I don't have the energy or focus to do the sprints that some can. I'm feeling really good about moving into this next phase. Hell, don't even call it Advent Season or Winter: call it December.
In December, I will take my place in the St. Martin's choir once more.
In December, I will go dancing with my boyfriend.
In December, I will play dolls with one of my fellow child-like kinky friends.
In December, I will light my menorah and sing the old blessings.
In December, I will participate in a Yankee Swap and inevitably get something amusing or lame.
In December, I will make latkes with sour cream and applesauce for my menfolk.
In December, I will have my oldest Werewolf challenge for the fourth Rank, again.
In December, I will make and then put presents under a wire tree that I made myself.
In December, I will light an Advent Wreath that I also made.
In December, I will open presents under that wire tree, with the two most important people in the world.
In December, I will turn 39.
In December, there will be fireworks at midnight as the whole world celebrates with me.
And then in January, everything will change again.