Writing

Paying Attention

March 21, 2026 annbh356Leave a comment

There is a story in my family about how, in the months leading up to Christmas 1962, my mother hid even the waste threads snipped after sewing the seams of an outfit she was making for me. This was because I was such a nosy child, although I might say exceptionally curious or extremely attentive.

Earlier that fall, she had sewn a blue and white checked cape (reminiscent of scenes from The Sound of Music) for my best friend, Melinda. That I already had a matching cape, did not sooth my desire for another something new. And, with Christmas lists growing, I felt sure that my wardrobe had been forgotten. As it happened, Momma only worked on my surprise gift when curious eyes were not around – during the school day and after bedtime. Then, she would carefully put everything away, not even leaving the bobbin in the bobbin case of the sewing machine for fear that I might notice her using a different color thread and ask what she was making. Her clandestine approach to that sewing project did give me a Christmas surprise.

Over the years, I have found practical applications for my attention to detail without sliding precariously into OCD obsessions. From my days as a library page shelf-reading and putting books back in Dewey order to participating in library funding formula discussions, the outcome of which eventually become library legislation.

While paying attention is a useful skill when building a house or planning a new church, there can be downsides. At the beginning of this second-time-around administration, I had planned to stay better informed by increasing the number of news sources and journalists I read or viewed each day. And while I did this in January, I was quickly overwhelmed. I found my logical brain simply could not manage the overt inconsistencies from day-to-day; contradictory statements or actions that sometimes occurred only hours apart or even spoken within the same paragraph. By mid-February, I was relying solely on Stephen Colbert’s nightly monologue and The Late Show political guests for my news. Obviously not a practical approach when striving to be an informed voter, and my news-junky to comedy-only approach to current events needed modification. As I shared in an early February blog post, “Red Hat Resilience” I now limit my news gathering and then balance the harshness of that day’s events with reading poetry.

Paying attention also has advantages like realizing after just one row of the sweater I am knitting (283 stitches wide) that I had been so attentive to the storyline of The Brokenwood Mysteries episode we were watching that I knitted the same wrong side row twice. While not easily visible on my needles, this error would definitely have revealed an ugly break in the featured lace and cable design of the finished garment. Today’s task – TINK (that is – knit backwards) the incorrect row and probably not while watching Acorn TV.

There are days when I prefer not to pay attention to the “real world.” When I adjust the banded shades to allow in daylight but, still drawn, create a cocoon. When the only activity I want to undertake is knitting. Or knitting and baking. Or knitting, baking, and reading. When I am tempted to let every phone call (other than Momma’s number) go to voicemail. And I admit there are days when I ignore my Gmail inbox. But that always has unwanted consequences as I still need to read a flood of building correspondence about window placement, or the preferred number of stoves and refrigerators in the church kitchen, or the weight of 98-solar panels on the west roof.

And so, the challenge continues. Just as yesterday’s vernal equinox provided celestial balance with equal hours of day and night, I will continue to strive for equilibrium – between staying informed about the harsh realities of US politics and our sedate day-to-day life on Solstice Place.

Christmas Eve Reflection

December 24, 2025 annbh356Leave a comment

deep blue background with frosted plants in the foreground

I try and fool myself into believing that I am skipping news broadcasts because of my busy calendar. A schedule that included months of preparation for a move and then unpacking our life here on Solstice Place. And, once those tasks were complete, I shifted into everyday routines of knitting, baking, cleaning and, sometimes, even writing. Activities that admittedly require a degree of concentration and therefore provide a quasi-believable excuse not to turn to 24/7 reporting. But, if I am honest, my lack of attention is not attributable to mundane tasks, rather a weary knowledge that once I turn on the radio or the TV I will learn of yet another unthinkable injustice.

With lifelong experience living in the Midwest, I know the briskness of December. This is why I bundle up for my daily walk down the block to the neighborhood mailbox. I know that the winter temperatures in Minneapolis, St. Paul, or other quadrants of Rochester are certainly no warmer than at my doorstep. Yet, news coverage shows early morning raids by masked ICE agents as they remove Minnesota residents from their homes without coats, hats, or mittens. The recent scenes of a woman pinned down in the snow and dragged through the street prompted a public statement from Minneapolis Police Chief Brian O’Hara in which he said, “This egregious disregard for human dignity is appalling. It is deeply concerning that there appears to be a lack of accountability from our federal partners.”

Such masked behavior is not limited to Minnesota’s major cities; it also occurs in Rochester. Recently, an immigrant chef who, just months ago, prepared my dinner was taken into ICE custody. This is a man seeking asylum in order to escape Ecuadorian gang violence, violence that caused him to be shot in the head when, as an independent restaurateur, he refused to pay protection money. His location, well-being, and legal status are currently unknown to his family or to the church members who are sponsoring his legal efforts to navigate our complicated asylum process.

During this Christmas season when the gospels recount this ancient, yet well-known story, I can only wonder what might happen should there be another family seeking refuge on this oh holy night with stars brightly shining.

Joseph went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem, the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in swaddling clothes and placed him in a manager, because there was no room for them at the inn.
Luke 2:4-7

Photo credit: pexels-pixabay

Spirituality

Enter the Season with Intent

December 19, 2022December 19, 2022 annbh3562 Comments

a box of chocolates with white numbers for each day of December

Growing up, my Advent calendar was made of decorative blue cardboard with simple paper flaps that folded back and revealed religious holiday images: an angel, a star, a shepherd and, eventually, a nativity scene. Since it was used year after year, the flaps didn’t always stay closed which allowed this impatient child to sneak a peek at the treats for the coming days.

My 1950s calendar was very simple compared to what is available today. If you do a quick search you will find a multitude of themed choices ranging from chocolate to wine. There is even a Lego Advent calendar, although daily assembly is required.

Lest you worry that knitters have been forgotten, there are patterns featuring a different color or design for each day of Advent. These are usually built around 24 days of surprises so that the hat or scarf can be gifted on Christmas morning. Periodically, a yarn store may offer a very pricey calendar that contains 25 unique skeins providing the recipient with a daily tactile experience and the added benefit of stash building.

Such varied product availability is the reason that after surviving months of political endorsements, we are now inundated with holiday ads all promoting a sense of “must have-ness;” ads with the potential to take us further and further away from the original intent of the seasonal holydays of Hanukkah and Christmas.

Hanukkah – the festival of lights, commemorating a time of miracles when the faith of the Jewish people sustained them to reclaim their holy temple and keep the light of the menorah burning for eight days.

Advent – the weeks of preparation before Christmas, the celebration of the humble birth of Jesus in a stable; days that Rev. Megan Lloyd Joiner calls “the waiting time.”

But waiting can be hard especially when Christmas-themed stores are open year-round and two-day delivery requires just a click of the mouse. In a society reveling in perpetual motion, the idea of waiting is often translated into a sense of doing nothing. That we are somehow disloyal or disconnected if we seek the quiet or admit to being overwhelmed by the barrage of 24/7 news reporting on the war in Ukraine, or volcanic eruptions in Indonesia, or the nearly daily gun violence in the United States.

For this feeling of disconnection Rev. Joiner offers this advice “…not just to wait, but to wait actively: to do the work of preparing hearts and tilling the soil that awaits seeds of hope and love … to be present in each moment of waiting.”

Or as Rev. Luke Stevens-Royer preached last Sunday in his annual “Humbug” sermon there is “the reminder to slow down, be it by blizzard of the sky or blizzard of the soul. That to pause, to wait, to rest, is not an invitation to isolation or hibernation but, when the world feels like storm, it is our natural reminder to pause … to find ways of entering the season with intention.”

With the beginning of Hanukkah yesterday at nightfall, as Advent continues and as we approach the Winter Solstice when we explore seasons and cycles and celebrate the light of days growing longer (if only by seconds), may you enjoy lighting a candle (or eight); may you “be present in each moment of waiting” and may you “find ways of entering the season with intention.”

Photo credit: Marcus Spiske from Prexels

Baking

Plus Pecans

December 9, 2022 annbh3561 Comment

nine oatmeal cookies on a blue-green plate

Today was a snowy baking day although I wasn’t ready to make Candy Cane Cookies or Cappuccino Flats. Yes, I know Christmas is just two weeks and a few days away and holiday baking should be in full swing but I am still in Advent mode.

From the autumn section of Beth Dooley’s The Northern Heartland Kitchen and using craisins harvested just a mile from Mom’s Lac Courte Oreilles house, I tried Beth’s Oatmeal Chocolate Chip and Dried Cranberry Cookies, with two small modifications:

Mine include coarsely chopped pecans – a nod to my southern heritage. Each year, Aunt Mini Lou would send a bushel basket sized box of just fallen pecans, raked from her Alabama lawn and mailed to our Wisconsin house. (Although one year she sent Vidalia onions much to the amusement of our postal delivery person.)
The recipe calls for the stiff dough to be dropped by tablespoon but I opted to use my teaspoon scoop as Richard and I prefer petite rather than ginormous desserts.

They might not be the most photogenic, but the crunch of oatmeal and pecans, combined with the sweetness of chocolate and the cranberry tartness make a delicious treat.

Bon appétit!

Baking

Candy Cane Cookies

December 23, 2021 annbh3562 Comments

I cannot remember the year I first made these almond flavored cookies but I do remember the kitchen. The front of the house, second floor apartment on 2nd Street, above the chiropractor’s (my landlord’s) office, and across the street from the Brodhead Public Library. That gives me a three-year window of Decembers from 1976-1978. The recipe was part of a multi-year Betty Crocker recipe club subscription (think book-of-month club only recipes) where the tangerine orange recipe box and the first 24 recipe cards were the free gift for subscribing and a thematic packet with 24 additional cards arrived each month for the next two years.

These candy cane cookies are my must-bake Christmas treat. If I make nothing else, it will be these. The result is a shaped cookie without the extra steps of frosting and decorating cutouts or requiring the technical skill of applying the perfect pressure necessitated for Spritz cookies. Although I do own a Sawa 2000 Deluxe Swedish cookie press complete with 24 nozzles, circa 1985.

As we gingerly plan for another Covid Christmas, Mom and I have agreed less is acceptable. She baked only two batches of family traditional sweets – Pecan Crisps (a double batch, of course) and Holiday Fruits – instead of the usual six varieties; to be served with her purchase of Rosettes, Pizzelles, and Sandbakkles courtesy of the St. James ethnic bakers. With what is in her cookie jars plus my Candy Canes and a vanilla cheese cake on a chocolate wafer crust topped with cranberry glaze for Christmas Day, our holiday cookie platter should be merry and bright.