For those of you who are wondering why I haven’t been posting as furiously in this post-Christmas period, I have to mention that I have, without making a formal resolution, seemed to have slipped into a slower, more gracious life for the year 2010.
I am knitting, as previously mentioned, and am now on my fourth scarf. I’m sending out hand-written thank-you notes for dinner parties (though it was such an unusual occurrence that it alarmed my reporter pal, Kim Bolan, who thought it must be a threatening letter from a gang when she got one in the mail). I have returned to writing in a journal as part of my impulse to form a new “slow writing” movement. (I should actually say “slow and long,” as opposed to fast and twitter.)
I think it might be a way of life we all want to take up as the Olympics descend upon us. After all, if there’s no parking anywhere, if a simple trip to Costco entails having to drive by military vehicles and miles of chain-link fencing, if the bridges are closed and the streets are filled with mobs of aimless revellers — doesn’t it sound like a great idea to just shut yourself up in your house and do some needlepoint? Read the collected works of St. Thomas Aquinas? Put all of your pictures from years 1997 through to the present in photo albums? I think so.
All right, I know this will pass. I’ll get swept up in the frenzy of life and the Olympics soon enough. (I feel as though it’s practically a civic duty to go to at least two cultural events a week throughout February, just so all those ballet dancers and singers stampeding into town for the Cultural Olympiad aren’t lonely.)
But it’s a lovely few moments of quiet.