melting old candle butts to make new ones has been one of my forever projects, because there was this idea in my head that i need to find an old, small pan just for the purpose. i learned a simpler solution from my housemates in ireland, to use a tin can in a pot of boiling water. duh.

i lit a few lanterns on the apple trees before dusk. peeked outside to check on them and saw a sky full of stars accompanied by a crescent moon. heard heavy steps from the woods, perhaps that moose again? i whistled, but no one came running...

i wish i had a big chunk of beeswax, it makes the best candles. i'd make those little votive ones.

walked into the forest along the tracks of a moose today. our hooves were the same size, and we prefer the same route, apparently. i sat still in the snow, in the pine bog, long enough to hear someone big rustle through the woods, but never saw anyone other than three spiders on the road. a few days above zero and the trees were full of webs, hopeful strands filling with snowflakes. i rescued the first spider (pictured) onto a fir branch, but come to think of it, i probably just hindered its wintry travels. i just thought the weather a bit intense for such small creatures to be crawling about.

this has been the best knitting tip i have learned in a long time. when ribbing stripes, knit (as in don't purl at all) the first row of every colour change. it works even when you have to knit two rows in a... row. you know. neat stripes without the 'bleeding' purled stitches cause, grand!

i've been obsessed with this particular striping colourway for ages, finally i started a pair of woolly socks (for the summer, i think...) but ran out of white yarn so i only have one so far. i'd really love a cardigan in the same pattern. it's vaguely nautical, fresh and neat, without being too tommy hilfiger, if you know what i mean... and it goes with most of my wardrobe.

however, i'm also kind of itching to knit cables and braids and lattices and whatnot, and i have already got heaps of plum-hued yarn that i ought to turn into a garment. i just need to find a good pattern.

the weekend went well, i saw old friends, we made pizza and played board games on saturday, and on sunday i went to the library, scored some hefty discounts at the red cross seconhand shop, ate pancake with apple jam and went ice skating late in the evening on an empty, lit up rink. it was so nice, even though i was terrified, i had not worn skates since being sixteen but didn't fall over once!

my thoughts are still in ireland, where the daffodils and white anemones are in bloom. and snowdrops, of course. i saw them everywhere on my coach ride to dublin. they sold them at the flower shops as well. i miss my housemates, the hustle and bustle of the house, and the ocean. oh, the atlantic...

i'm utterly clueless as to what to do now. do i really want to return? i know i'd rather be there in the spring and here for the late summer and fall. but unless a bag full of money falls from the sky, i don't know how to make that happen. meanwhile, i'm making snow angels and knitting socks, the only things that make any sense.

i must say i'm disappointed with the wimpy winter weather we're having. i came home expecting -25°C but today it was barely below zero. i need a deep freeze to de-moth and air my woollies outdoors. i don't want to start pushing loads of wet snow across the yard. i can barely manage the fluffy stuff.

so many trees have been felled, there's twigs and branches all over the place. i made a wreath from weeping birch. it's so shabby chic it hurts.

everything is falling apart around here. 

bonfire of clarity. threw the remaining ex stuff into the pyre.
hoping for letting-go-ness.

home turf has changed into snow. everything seems unreal, it's hard to comprehend the change of location and the distance between here and there. sleep deprivation plays its part here, three poorly slept nights topped with staying more or less awake for 24 hours while in transit is draining to say the least. i didn't have the smoothest trip home, but that's just typical.

the lack of fallen trees surprised me in the woods, i expected more storm damage. one very special trunk had given in, though, my enoki tree... i was not too happy to see that. but i found comfort in the forest, powdery snow swathing everything into its quiet and peaceful lull, the trees welcoming me back.

fare thee well

lately i've found myself thinking about patterns a lot. those we fall into in life, the ones that keep repeating. i wonder how to prevent that from happening yet again, once i'm back in my neck of the woods, and i wonder if it's something i even should be fighting.

packing is always stressful, but especially when leaving a place you won't be returning to. at home it's always an option to throw things to the corner in exasperation when the suitcase won't close... (looks like i have to mail some things home.)

i keep telling people i don't want to make a big deal about leaving, yet i do inside my own head. i'm constantly counting down the days (three) and going over everything i'll miss. luckily we'll be having some icelandic couch-surfers over on friday night, which will take the focus off of me i'm sure. then i can just kind of disappear into the sunrise on saturday morning.

i'm looking forward to having dublin all to myself, quiet and easy, no plans, only possibilities...