Ah, here we are again in the dead of winter. While I am sometimes known to be one of those insufferable humans who rejoices on a cold, snowy winter day, I, too, have my limits. As I write this, it is -13 degrees outside and there is a nor’easter on the way, scheduled for my birthday (Monday). All I ask is that the power stays on to make my coffee and to bake my carrot cake. In the worst case scenario I will put a candle in cream cheese frosting and call it a celebration.

I just returned from Toronto where I spent a week with my mom. (Hi, Mom). This isn’t a story I tell often, but last March, in the final days of my father’s life, as he lay unresponsive in his hospital bed, we did not know whether, or not he could hear us. He had had a massive stroke and was not moving, or making any eye contact for days. When we knew that we were going to lose him, I stood over his bed and said everything to him that I thought he might have wanted to say to us and everything that I wanted to say to him. In the end, it was a pretty simple message, I love you, but I also felt that he might be hanging on for my mother. I said, “Dad, I promise we will take care of Mom.” As God, my mother and brother were my witnesses, after a week of blankly staring at the ceiling, he turned his eyes to me and with every ounce of his spirit, hard stared me in the eyes. I knew he had heard me and that I had just given him my word. Well, of course I would have anyways visited my mother more regularly, but my dad made sure that I understood this was a covenant. And so, for both my mom, my dad and myself, I find myself making more frequent trips to Toronto.

I would be lying if I said that I love to travel. Getting anywhere in the winter is a challenge, but the truth is, I am a full fledged homebody. I worked very hard to get exactly where I want to be…. Lunenburg, and now that I am here it’s hard to make myself leave. In the summer I have the excuse of customers visiting me in my shop. In the winter I have the excuse of winter nesting, but really, I just love where I live. I’m always going to try to make an excuse to not go anywhere.

That said, it is sometimes good to leave home and I am very grateful for this time with my mother. For one, it’s really inspiring to see how strong she is. Every morning she puts her walker in the car, drives to the supermarket, walks up and down the aisles and then has coffee at the store’s Starbucks, chatting with the baristas and the delivery people, mostly new immigrants. I have second handedly learned all their life stories, what countries they come from and what brought them to Canada. If you want to truly understand my mother’s fighting spirit, you need look no further than her Macgyvered snow blower. She had the man who helps her around the house attach an old walker to the snow blower, so that she could snow blow the driveway. Fortunately, he makes sure to show up before she can possibly get out there. The neighbours seem to also be on the same page.

My mom is also at a time in her life where she is sharing a lot of family stories with me, and I am at a time in my life where I am eager to hear them. You may have noticed my obsession with antique sewing machines, spinning wheels and natural dyeing. I think this all comes down to my need to be connected to the past. Hearing of my direct ancestors being expelled from Spain in the 1400’s, making their way to Greece, then Turkey, then Romania, then Canada, places me in the broader history of the world. In a world of half truths and hash tags, I have been really enjoying diving into the full truth and long story of my own history. I’m currently reading The story of the Jews, by the British historian, Simon Schama. He also did a wonderful series on BBC select by the same name. Actually, if you like history this channel is great. I’m currently watching a series on the Persians. So much to learn.

I did manage to get to The Textile Museum of Canada. There were some beautiful exhibits, but my favourite room was the room full of looms. There was a man volunteering there who patiently answered my many, many questions. I sat down and played on this loom for about half an hour. I could have easily stayed longer.

When I sensed that the folks at the Textile Museum wanted to go home, I headed into the subway, homeward bound. I walked down the steps and directly in front of me was a woman wearing a hat that I made around 20 years ago. What a surreal experience. I walked up to her and said, “Excuse me, I made your hat.” She was truly surprised. I told her that if she looked at the label inside she would see my name. We chatted until she had to get off the subway. She suggested that I might want to buy a lottery ticket. This was my Claire hat. I stopped making it years ago. Sometimes I just have to let myself move on. I did however put a couple of these hats made out of boiled wool in my shop. I have sworn off polar fleece, but if people would like the Claire hat in boiled wool I would be happy to make them again.

My friend, Jo, recently spent an entire day with me, teaching me how to weave. She lent me a rigid heddle loom that she and her husband built.

I made this piece of fabric using my hand spun yarn. Truly, it is an incredible feeling to create fabric. It looks bigger than it actually is, but still, I’m proud of myself. Jo helped me set up the loom, which is the hard part. I plan to spend my birthday setting up the loom again for another project. I’m definitely intimidated to go it alone, but Youtube will be holding my hand. I am very drawn to those more complicated foot pedal looms I played on at the museum, but I will be prudent and make sure that I stick with this new found hobby before expanding further into the living room. Tony has a very real fear of being usurped by a floor loom.

In other creative news, I made myself this bag. I love it so much. It turned out to be the perfect travel bag. It fits under the seat of an airplane perfectly. I was asked if I plan to sell these. The answer is, I don’t know. It took a very long time to make. I may make another one and see, but if you sew, I highly recommend this sewing pattern. (Linked under the photo.) Bags look so complicated, but like anything else, it’s just about taking it one step at a time.

Speaking of one step at a time, I recently listened to the book, Atomic Habits, by James Clear. I don’t really see myself as a “self help book” kind of gal, but maybe I am. This one popped into my library screen and I figured I would give it a try. I can’t stop thinking about the message of this book. It has been tremendously helpful. In a nutshell, if there’s something you want to do, stop thinking about the end goal and instead think about the regular action you need to take to get there, and just make a habit of doing this thing. It seems so simple. It’s one of those things I know, but constantly forget. In an age of instant gratification it can feel so discouraging to have a goal and feel like you are falling short. For me, this is just a gentle reminder to keep showing up and trust that anything worth achieving takes time. This shift in mindset has helped me begin my day with all things computer work. I am happiest in the studio and often neglect things like my website, pattern writing, video editing, or, ugghhhh, bookkeeping. It has also helped me practice Yoga every afternoon. It’s as simple as telling myself that I have an appointment with my Yoga Mat at 4:30. All I have to commit to is unrolling the mat everyday at the same time. I don’t need to go further than that. But beginning is always the hardest part. Once I’m there I may as well actually do something. Taking away the end goal and replacing it with the habit gives me a sense of peace and stops me from beating myself up, or getting discouraged.

Well, I sure did talk your ear off today. I’ll leave you with this photo of Lunenburg’s front harbour. See why I don’t want to go anywhere? Below is a 30 second video of a beautiful winter walk. Hope you enjoy. So grateful that you chose to slow down and spend a bit of time with me. Talk again soon. Anna

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