Threads are not strong by themselves. In isolation, they cannot hold it together to keep me warm, or create a pattern. But when thousands of skinny threads line up, magic happens. Knitting, too, is a way to team up individual stitches in solidarity. Together they can become something that keeps the cold at bay. 

 

I took a weaving class, and got to participate in the process of turning strands into cloth. After ninety minutes, there were the first two inches of a bookmark. Granted, I am new at this, and we were chatting, but it is not about high speed productivity. The shuttles slid between the raised threads, which took turns depending on which were elevated. 

 

The repetition and variety alternate, in ways I don't fully grasp, but I am pleased with the bookmark so far.

 

The last few weeks of preparation for our family's celebration have included similar rhythms. Some things happened over and over, like addressing envelopes, and washing dishes. But then novel tasks popped up, like a fresh idea for a gift, or a recipe I want to try. 

 

Any of these efforts by themselves would not comprise much joy. A little, I admit. But a row of clean mugs, and bags of cookies in the freezer, create something pleasing. When our kids walk in the door after an all night flight, and need a cup of coffee, it will be my pleasure to reach up and find a mug to pour it into.