We have just finished work on three large projects here at KDD. Two are a couple of books which you’ve already heard about and which I’m happy to say we’ll be launching very soon – Wheesht and Knitting Season. The third is a really exciting project we’ve all been beavering away on in the background, which has involved a lot of collective hard work, and which we are all incredibly pleased to have brought to completion. Though I really can’t wait to tell you about it, I won’t spoil the surprise by saying any more about it right now: but do look out for a big announcement at the start of January!
I often find the gaps between completing and launching projects rather strange. Part of that is certainly an issue of my own constitutional impatience (once I’ve finished something I just really want to get it out there) and part of it is that feeling of being bereft of something which has occupied my time and energy for so many months. Because I’ve been managing three large and very different overlapping projects, and because it has been a difficult year generally, this particular in-between time feels quite intense to me.
I know my own bipolar self well enough to be aware that such in-between times can be very dangerous for me mentally: its always at such moments that, free from my customarily intense work-related pressures, I can crash into a melancholy which can prove difficult to shake. The dark months of the year are also routinely tricky for me. But I know how my mind works and I also know that I’m able to manage such moments by quietly focusing on some very simple things: allowing myself to take the rest I need; not putting any further demands on myself (frankly much more easily said than done) and doing things that I really enjoy doing just for the sake of doing them.
I’ve been doing a lot of those things this week: reading; watching films; learning Spanish. Most of all, I’ve been enjoying taking long walks in the cold air and winter light.
This week I’ve seen the birch trees festooned with hoar frost transform, in the rays of the rising sun, into a thousand dazzling multicoloured prisms. I’ve stepped out onto an icy, salty spit of land and listened, in the stillness, to the burbling incoming tide.
I’ve marvelled at the movement of the day from blue to gold and watched a thin new moon rise into the rose-coloured half-light of a darkening afternoon.
Really, the in-between times can be truly magical. Especially when they are spent with the best of companions (one of whom is behind the camera).
All I can say is, I hear you!! And thank you for sharing your beautiful walks. We lost our dog a few months ago, and I find it hard to go out on trail without her; seeing your pictures is a lovely reminder of why I love to be out in nature.
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so sorry to hear about the loss of your dog, Jocelyn
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Great article
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learning Spanish! :) Thumbs up!
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In retirement from my day job, and with tendinitis having settled in my hands, of all things, I feel the in-between-times are moving toward being simply “the times”. Piano practice and pottery production are on a months long hold in hopes of getting out from under the routine aggravation. Knitting (Doocot for my daughter right now) continues with drug store hand braces. I just had to get all that off my chest, I guess.
Mainly, though, best wishes to you and Tom and the boys. Flow merrily down the stream.
G
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The photography in this post is breathtaking. Literally. In the I am holding my breath in awe of the clarity of the moments captured.
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Take care of yourself lovely lady!! ❤️
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What an inspiration you are, in so many ways!
The dark months are never easy.
Stay strong x
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Feeling the same way here, after launching a lot of things. We decorated our Christmas tree last night and it felt like the most deliciously slow thing I’d done in months. Peace to you, Kate!
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Knitting beautiful heids in vibrant Scottish yarn helps me enjoying the times between years
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In between years
Sluggish days:
Time drips,
Leaded sand,
Through the
Narrowing waist
Of a hazy hourglass
Gluey cobwebs
Deny exit from
Memory maze
Tired eyes watch
The world in
Slow motion
Outside all trains
Travel backwards.
Copy right ulrike gerbig
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The “in between times”. What a lovely way to be !
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Ahhhh… a sigh of camaraderie here. This sharing is spot on for this gal as well.
I cherish these days and cringe a wee bit as they approach.
I am reminded that when one is continually creating this in-between is a must. The furtive dark..
I look forward to all that this time calls forth.
Thank you for sharing your light… and all those that assist and guide and love you…
Cozy days.
Elyzabeth
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I’m about your age, I think, Kate, and I love being in my 40’s. Knowing how my brain will react to various situations is a huge difference from my 20’s! Planning for it, and learning actually to enjoy it, is a skill I’m working on. You are finding success, I see–Tom’s pictures are gorgeous, and illustrate perfectly your ability to pay attention to the glinting joy of daily details at this time of year. Keep up the great work, on ALL fronts!
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in hearty agreement re: the perspective from one’s ’40s
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Thank you Kate! Your words and sharing helps me manage my depression. Toms photography eases my depression as well.
Thank you
Mary
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You are truly blessed and lucky not only with your companions but with your self knowledge. REALLY looking foreward to my book arriving in the post.
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What a lovely read and photo’s from your best friend 😜
Rest well looking forward to hearing the news I. January enjoy your short hibernation Xx
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