Do random thoughts pop into your head while you are doing mindless things? It happens to me all the time and this morning it occurred to me that it might be fun to hold a New Year’s blog contest.
I’ve never held a blog contest before so here goes…
Leave a comment on this post answering one or both of the following questions:
What do I really want to knit in 2012?
What is a special holiday memory for me?
You have until the end of January to leave your comment and I will select a winner by using a random number generator. The winner will receive pdf downloads of all my 2011 patterns.
Here’s a run down:
I started the year with Knit Night Gloves
Knit Night Hat is a free pattern to match the gloves.
and lastly Little Sparrow Cowl
Please enter my contest and leave your comments!
In the meantime, I’d like to share with you one of my favorite memories from the holidays. It was watching my son read “Twas The Night before Christmas” to his daughter. Here’s the little story behind the moment.
I was busy in the kitchen on Christmas eve morning, cooking for our family dinner that night when a random thought (there it is again) started pestering me. I had given my son an illustrated copy of Clement Moore’s “Twas the Night Before Christmas” and I had given it to him as a small child on Christmas Eve. And I also remembered tucking it away in my bookshelf when he outgrew stories of Santa Claus.
I knew I still had it, even though I had moved (counting on fingers) eight times since that Christmas. I remembered unpacking it five years ago when we moved to our current home.
The thought pestered me so much that I stopped what I was doing and ran upstairs. I put my hands on it right away. I opened the front cover and there in my own much younger hand writing was inscribed – To Ryan Love Mommy Christmas 1979. I sat down and sighed. Thirty two years ago today. My son would have been 25 months old (give or take a day or two), on that long ago Christmas Eve. And in a few hours time, he would be arriving at my door with his wife and daughter, my granddaughter, who just happened to be 25 months old, give or take a day or two.
I dusted it off, wrapped it in brown paper and wrote on the front, in my much older handwriting – To Ryan from Christmas 1979.
He read it to her after dinner, while I sat beside them, quietly listening.