Temperature Project Lessons

One of my fundamental teachers of 2023 was my collection of temperature projects: the digital charm square mockup, the crochet project, and the wide assortment of digital temperature quilts I started the year with vs. the four digital temperature quilts I finished.

I learned if I don't like a color in a daily project, I'm not likely to finish the project. I learned using colors I adore makes it easier for me to finish the year. However, hot summer temperatures can make me dislike a color I love, not because the color doesn't go beautifully in the project, but because it symbolizes sweating and discomfort. I just don't like hot weather! I guess I should live further north!!! Or in Gunnison...

(affiliate links to my designs)

I learned I don't necessarily want to use up ALL my hand-dyed crochet thread, particularly hard-to-acheive colors.

I learned I like digital temperature projects better than fiber projects because they are easier to catch up on when something, such as a pinched nerve in my back or an extended family medical emergency, keeps me from my daily goals.

I learned I do not like catching up more than about five days on a daily crochet project. Especially when my back is not cooperating.

I learned I like gradient color charts better than rainbow color charts.

I wound up liking two of the new (to me) digital projects I designed myself so much, my creative juices began percolating again at the end of the summer. Could I do it again? Could I come up with two more original projects???

I came up with two brand new potential schemes for 2024's digital temperature projects. I learned that new daily challenges get me excited when current projects become boring (thanks to a string of solid high 90s).

Especially when new ideas involve photography!!!

I was fascinated to discover I could design 12 new snowflakes based on my 2023 crochet temperature project motif. I mistakenly thought I'd designed 13, and 13 has always has been my lucky number. Perhaps I will have to design one more... In the meantime, I created a snowflake frame you may download for personal use. Merry belated Christmas!

My 2023 crochet temperature project (or, rather, the snowflakes I designed based on the project motif) forced me to perfect my foundation crochet. This newfound crochet strength has left me extremely satisfied, excited, proud and giddy.

Of course, those of you who have been following along know I questioned finishing the December portion of my 2023 temperature crochet project, due to work demands and then health challenges. Now that work is taking a deep breath and counting to ten and Lizard's most recent health crisis is beginning to heal, I'm catching up and adding in those final two rows. No more doubt!!!

I literally rang in the new year while Lizard peacefully slept (for the first time in at least three weeks) by catching up the 19 days I'd lost. I still have to finish that final row, so 12 more days (which the forecast says will include a lot of my favorite blue hand-dyed threads!), and I'll be done.

Because the end of the year was so difficult to keep going and because I've started new digital temperature projects for 2024, I've decided not to create a new crochet temperature project for this year. I ruled out doing a 10-month temperature quilt or afghan because November and December can be the prettiest months of a temperature project. I have considered doing perhaps a month-long crochet project or perhaps even a crochet temperature snake. I suppose I could even do a temperature lizard...

Although I'm not doing another motif crochet temperature project in 2024, I learned from working on this project I can set a motif-a-day goal for one of my favorite motif WIPs and perhaps finish one of those in the next few months. It would be awesome if I could finish two this year. Three would be a real bonus.

For now, my 2023 digital snowflake temperature quilt is one of my most favorite creations of all time. (It should be complete on January 14.) Even though it is digital, it still took a lot of time, a commitment every single day, and a complete redo of January and February when I discovered my digital snowflakes would not print white via Spoonflower the way I was then doing them. I really would love to create a fiber version of this quilt one day, and I think that would be the creative capstone of my life. However, my 2023 crochet temperature project has taught me I cannot commit to such a crochet/quilt endeavor until I retire. And even then, caregiving takes precedence. Perhaps the fiber version of this work of art will live its life in my head. That's not such a bad thing...

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Lessons from 2023

Quiet moments are priceless.

The pandemic and Lizard's anxiety have robbed me of my ability to exist in crowded spaces.

I have not yet learned how to answer acquaintances who are not close friends when they ask how my husband is doing without crying. So I avoid those situations altogether.

Walking around the block will never be as good as riding around the block, but it's better than sitting on the couch.

Sleep anytime it hits is precious and beneficial.

Walking laps around the kitchen/dining room/living room will never beat walking outdoors, but it's better than sitting on the couch.

Squirrels may be a pain in the backyard, but they sure can entertain.

Prayer and strong faith can get me through the most difficult times.

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Kindness Never Fails

Earlier this year, I taught my 5- and 6-year-olds in Sunday School about loving our enemies. It seems I need that lesson from time to time, too.

"Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you..."

Matthew 5:43-44 has been on my mind a lot lately. I think I've shared here before I sometimes get grief from co-workers who have been asked to return to the office full time. Working from home four days a week enables me to care for my husband, but it also creates jealousy from others who wish they could work from home most of the time and who don't think it's fair that I'm being granted "special privileges".

My standard response to confrontation in the office (and yes, there have unfortunately been many quagmires the last two years) has been trying to hide my tears as I explain I would work 20 hours per day and 80 hours per week if I could have my husband back the way he was.

Deep down inside, I'd wonder if they'd feel the same way if someone they loved was saddled with a diagnosis that stole away everything their loved one cherished.

At some point last summer, I realized, unlike the progression of a life-changing diagnosis, my reaction is something I CAN control. I can be a better example, and I can use these difficult moments as teaching opportunities.

I decided instead of trying to justify the kindness my bosses are extending to me, I should sparkle with gratitude. I'm still not proficient, but my rehearsed response now is, "I am so grateful I get to be the one to take care of my husband. I'm so glad I get to spend time with him while he still recognizes me and is still able to do tiny bursts of the things we used to do. I am so grateful I am still able to take care of him by myself."

My change in attitude seemed to help and seemed to make a difference, at least with some co-workers. It made life so much more pleasant for me. I could deal with my own stresses and trauma without being thrown beneath the bus by people who should be my team members at work.

Last week, a true team member warned me about a co-worker I thought had accepted my plight and was no longer bitter and resentful. I was advised to be careful what I say to that person, or others whom I don't know well, because things were being taken out of context and used against me behind my back.

The tears made another waterfall appearance, and for two nights, I had more trouble than normal sleeping because of things said about me that got back to me.

Finally, I thought about that scripture again. Pray for those who treat you badly. People who go around making trouble for others are not happy people. Unhappy people need blessings as much as those of us who are doing our best to get through each day. People who spend nearly all their energy trying to bring others down must be missing something in their own life, or they wouldn't have time for such discord.

That night, I prayed for the 20-year co-worker who trashed me. My longtime friend with a diagnosis of their own; one of the six people I listed on my "Reasons I Ride" bib back in the day of our annual MS-150 rides.

Praying for my co-worker helped me remember this friend is fighting a battle of their own, that they have as many bad days vs. good days as us, that going into the office four days a week probably is just as much a struggle for them as even working from home is for me.

It helped me remember the friendship we once shared. It helped me remember the times when we used to help each other at work. It helped me remember I do not hate this person. I do not wish this person ill. It helped me remember I once had empathy for this person, and it helped me realize I can have it again.

This week, it was easier to be cordial to this person, and it was easier to pretend as if nothing had happened. There may still be things said about me behind my back, but I can still make the best of this and try to do my part in keeping the peace and showing compassion. It seems my prayer for my co-worker may have blessed me as much as it may have blessed my friend.

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Eclipsed

We'd been planning to go somewhere near the Four Corners area for this year's annular solar eclipse since The Great American Eclipse back in 2017.

Back in April, I got to watch the Australian solar eclipse live as it happened. Via YouTube, of course. I’d set the television up for Lizard to watch (without sound), and he’d fallen asleep. I didn’t know the exact time of totality, and I wasn’t watching the clock anyway. I’d just finished up a big project for work, and I was ready to work on my crochet temperature project. I could have rewound the video to watch the eclipse after it finished. But God guided me into the living room the moment totality was happening. It was so cool to watch as it happened! Every bit as exciting as it was when we watched the moon block the sun live in person at the Colorado/Wyoming border back in 2017.

I'm so thankful for modern technology. I'm so thankful to work from home, which forced me to upgrade our internet, which allowed me to watch an eclipse on the other side of the world as it happened. I'm so thankful for my Heavenly Father’s timing. I actually was even thankful for the silenced television and the nighttime silence of our house because it reminded me of how all the insects stopped buzzing and the birds stopped singing when we watched the 2017 eclipse as it happened. What joyous memories!

My hunger to get as close to the October 2023 Ring of Fire fueled securing time off from work. I made sure I still had my eclipse glasses and eclipse filter for my good camera, the Big Gun. I spent most of the summer dreaming of how wonderful our trip would be.

On September 29, I spent the evening trying to map out where we could go to shoot the eclipse. Back in 2017, we thought perhaps we could get good shots from The Wave or White Pocket if we couldn't get Wave permits. Maybe just somewhere in Vermillion Cliffs.

When NASA released the 2023-24 eclipse paths map, I realized the perfect Ring of Fire would not be visible from that far west. We also had learned there would be an air show in Grand Junction (featuring the Blue Angels!!!) that very same weekend. Lizard LOVES the Blue Angels, and both of us were suffering withdrawals because it had been so long since we'd been able to attend an air show.

While trying to come up with an alternate eclipse-viewing location, I suddenly began to remember the less pleasant aspects of our 2017 adventure.

How long it took to get to our desired venue. How long it took to get back home, even taking side roads far east of the interstate. All the mind-numbing traffic trying to do the same thing. How much Lizard enjoyed the eclipse but hated the commute both ways. Back when HE did all the driving...

I suddenly felt guilty for wanting to go. Wanting to drive so far. Lizard's mom had been telling me for a week or so he could stay with her while I went alone because she had a better grasp on reality than I did at the time. She knew there was no way he could make such a trip now. I didn't want to go alone. I wanted to enjoy the eclipse with him. Like we did last time.

The Ring of Fire's photographic alure began to dissipate as I realized Lizard would not be able to be in the car long enough for me to drive to one of our dream destinations, either Recapture Pocket (which I imagined to be as photogenic as White Pocket) or the Hite area in Canyonlands National Park.

I had told Lizard he could stay at his mom's and watch the airshow from her back porch (which has a great view of the airport) while I headed west, thinking I could get where I wanted to go in about three hours, shoot the eclipse, then get back in about three more hours.

Lizard would be so busy watching the airshow, he wouldn't really have any problems. His mom would be able to help with his medications. But he wasn't terribly comfortable with me going that far alone. I have to confess, it worried me, too. Not just trying to stay awake on the road alone, but trying to stay safe, period. After a bicycle tire blowout following Lizard's second surgery, I'd realized I can no longer engage in risky behavior such as riding my bike 30-plus miles to the office during rush hour traffic. He can't pick me up if I have a problem. I don't want someone else to have to take care of him if something happens to me. I want to be the one taking care of him.

I realized I wouldn't be able to go to the 2023 eclipse. At all. I didn't feel comfortable dumping Lizard's care on his mom for what seriously could be 24 hours or more, but I also don't even want to think about being without him that long. I can't even imagine how he would feel having to depend on his mom full time for that long, especially right now, with his stepdad's special needs. (One surgery a couple of weeks ago and another coming up in a couple of weeks.) (Then, as it turned out, Lizard's stepdad having to be rushed to the hospital again the day after the eclipse...)

About a month ago, Lizard commented out of the blue, "You can't plan anything anymore, can you?" That strange feeling in the pit of your stomach when someone ackowledges something painful you haven't yet noticed agitated wildly deep down inside. Lizard was right. I really can't plan much of anything now. We never know if he will feel like doing what we plan when the time actually arrives.

I needed to turn my attitude around. I plan a trip to the temple once a month and once a week when I'm able. I plan to go to work for a few hours each week. I plan to go to church each Sunday. Planning these routine outings can be fraught with seemingly unbearable stress. Yet, I usually find a way to make the most important things happen.

The instant I realized how miserable Lizard would be if I dragged him to the Four Corners area or if I left him alone for an entire day or more, I suddenly didn't even want to go southwest anymore. I could be totally content shooting the air show right by Lizard's side.

So, I didn't take the Big Gun. I wouldn't need it, I thought. I could get by with my little point-and-shoot, and I could practice shooting video of very fast-moving objects. I forgot my tripod connector, so I was forced to hand-hold my camera while shooting the Blue Angels. But, hand-holding was incredibly good practice for me.

Back in the days of VHS, when my kids were still small, I sent my dad a video of an air show in Greeley. My dad's reaction made my day. He said I was very good with a movie camera. He'd spent a portion of his electrical career with a television station, and his compliment bowled me over for years.

Now I'm beyond rusty. Plus, the VHS cameras of the '90s were about five times the weight of today's little point-and-shoots. Boy, my little camera now feels (and vividly displays) every breath I take, every itch I feel, every nervous twitch I hadn't realize I was making.

I got in LOTS of practice shooting the Blue Angels practice and the actual performances. Hopefully, I'm getting a little steadier as I go. I know I need to keep practicing. It makes me a bit sick to my stomach to watch the videos I shot in Grand Junction. I still need LOTS of improvement.

As it turned out, the eclipse was more visible in Grand Junction than I'd anticipated, and I had a ball shooting it, too, right from Lizard's mom's backyard, prior to the start of that day's air show.

More lessons learned. The little point and shoot couldn't shoot fast enough for such a bright light spectrum, even with the eclipse filter. I'd have brought the Big Gun had I known I would be able to view such a great eclipse from so far away from annularity.

Even though my photos show none of the sun's gorgeous detail, I can play with the images in Photoshop, and I might even come up with something fun.

In the end, I got to enjoy five glorious days off with my sweet husband, I didn't have to drive hundreds of miles (except to Grand Junction and back), I didn't have to put up with traffic or crowds, and I got a lot of quilt hand-sewing and snowflake crocheting done in the evenings. Not a bad way to spend a vacation!

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