Trying to keep track of work in progress would be scary. Really. I’d hate to even try to guess at the number of projects that pot along, while some even get finished. I’m trying to crochet at least one Seneca Santa hat a day this month, so here is this week’s crop. Had to get more yarn out of storage – and here’s another scary thing – there isn’t a huge amount left. Enough for this year? Maybe. But I definitely need more, and where it’s going to come from is currently a mystery.

For years, I’ve stockpiled a batch of rug wool. Quite a lot of it was orange, so a few weeks ago I dyed it a few other colors, then took four skeins out of shop stock to round out the colors. Orange, as it turns out, happily transforms in the dyepot into purple. There’s enough left over in the shop now for maybe two more rugs. These three are now, thankfully done. I’d like to sell them – I don’t need four of them (there’s another I did earlier on the back of the studio rocker). Nice warm fun crocheting them – they move fast with a size M hook and turn into substantial rugs. Not instantly, of course – these were in progress for about three weeks until winter storm Juno meant they got finished tonight. You can't see that they're actually pretty large - about 3 feet by four feet or so. As soon as I came up from the studio, there came a furious knocking at our kitchen door and two snow-dusted young people made me an offer I couldn’t refuse on clearing my driveway with their snowplow. Of course, it’s too dark to see what sort of job they did, and – another "of course" – it’s still snowing, so tomorrow it will need to be done again!

Yesterday I finished this quilt – it’s a disappearing 9-patch and it’s going to disappear to the Humane Society in another week or so, for their Mardi Gras silent auction. Can you see the cat theme?

I like being snowed in. Projects get started, projects get finished. Today I kept a promise I made to myself and began writing poetry again. I’ve been thinking poems in my head, but the past few years, the weight of fiber projects and the various other responsibilities in my life – I don’t even want to think about revisiting the almost-year-long slog of refurbishing my daughter’s house, just sayin’; and the article writing I do for the papers… well, the poetry fell out, and I need it, and I’ve felt the lack. Here’s part of the poem I wrote today, trying to get it to print here like a poem just doesn't seem possible, so look for those line breaks! – - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The colors grey out of the day and the snow keeps falling// Silently piling in the hedgerows and the margins of the road// I reload the woodstove// cover you with a blanket,// whisper in your ear// when you wake up, the water will be boiling// but it will not yet be spring.