I know that’s an often-heard phrase at the end of the year, but seriously, where has this month disappeared to?
Oh, the tasks I could list, ones accomplished, others screaming for attention. I have sewing to do, shopping to sort, baking to begin…. Advent is a blessed season; it’s also very busy.
I was going to title this post: It’s Only A Tall Tale. But that was hours ago, when I was thinking about writing, or the lack of it. Since this morning I have shopped, not all for Christmas, for we still need to eat. I’ve finished that Christmas lap quilt top, but also decided I have to set it aside. The place mats are more important to complete, and prioritizing is the key for this Advent season.
Only so much time exists; I need to make the most of mine.
Never has December felt so squeezed. I’ve written books in December, for goodness sake! Not this year, although The Hawk teases. January, I muse, because writing still means much to me, even if in our Christmas letter to friends and family quilting made the most noise. But I continue to consider that novel, and what I most pondered this morning was that no matter how big it has become, at the end of the day, it’s merely a story. Characters weave in and out, plot lines twist and turn, nuances niggle, but it’s simply a tale borne of a dream. Yes, it’s meaningful, yes I love it. But it’s not going to fall apart if I forget to write something here or there in the first dang draft!
Whew! That frees up some of my creative juices. That also lets me breathe easier, in that come January, when I have a modicum of free time, I can sit at this very computer, pull up that document, and once again add to that novel. Never has one book taken so much of my time, but sometimes projects linger far longer than we wish.
Like my eldest daughter’s tree skirt; she bought this fabric in 2013, started sewing it in summer of 2014, and will “finish” it in 2015. Those quotation marks are in regards to the quilted aspect of the skirt. Right now it’s fully functional, just ask Buttercup. She thinks it’s groovy.
Well, she likes the tree too. She likes Christmas, because her people are home more, plus guests. I want to complete the place mats to take to Buttercup’s house for Christmas Eve next week. Not that Buttercup will get a place mat, but she’ll wag her tail, ever so pleased that folks are at her domain, to lavish all their affections upon her.
Buttercup could care less about Advent, my WIP, or place mats. To her, it’s the people who matter, people speaking to her in a sweet voice, or rubbing her belly. Christmas can get hectic, frantic even. But I don’t wish to be overwhelmed by hustle and bustle and lists. I want to revel in what this season means to me, faith-and-family-wise. Sometimes that’s difficult, I won’t lie. But it just takes a little cognitive prowess to place items in the right order. A lap quilt falls to the bottom of the list, just above a novel. Place mats are high on the list, along with gifts for my husband. I can shop with him for other things, like ice cream and ham and perhaps even trekking to the mall. But it’s all about getting done what truly needs to be accomplished. And letting the rest fall away.
Even in December, not everything manages to reach finality. Actually, December is the first month of the church year, the beginning of something so new and beautiful, that to think we can get it all done in one month is silly. The Hawk will move along as its supposed to, that quilt will find completion one of these days. Christmas is about new and precious moments. I want to enjoy each as they are presented, not worrying about too much else at all.