Sweater Weather: Bundled in Abundance

Pragmatics

Here is practical content from Real Simple on how and where to donate old clothing.

Walking around New York yesterday, I walked by several homeless people before sharing some of my wealth. Still, I was troubled by the conundrum: can’t give to everyone, and wouldn’t it be better to give to a homeless coalition? I appreciated this take on panhandling by a formerly homeless individual.

Short and sweet: 5 ways to cultivate an attitude of gratitude.

Prose

Down in the basement, years ago, Tom erected a zip-up, stand-alone vinyl “closet”, for the overflow. My old nursing uniforms are still down there, as are a miscellany of odd items like graduation gowns and spare scarves.

Packing for Presidents Day weekend in frigid Vermont, it occurred to me that I have worn the same 4 or 5 sweaters all winter. My favorite is an oversized, tweedy green men’s sweater, its hole well hidden by the roll neck collar. But Vermont seemed to call for an arsenal of woolens (I always overpack), and it occurred to me that a visit to the Port-A-Closet was in order.

For a woman who relishes sweaters (and I also seem to feel the cold more as I age), my basement epiphany felt like Christmas. A dozen forgotten sweaters were resurrected!

Two thoughts came immediately with the 12 sweaters. First, how blessed I am with abundance, to have a stash of items that I can manage to forget between seasons. Right after that, I realized how much less I could live with. Yes, in the first half of the winter I wished for an extra sweater or two. But I made do with my well-loved handful, thinking of an end-of-season sale that might fill things out for next year. No doubt I have done this a few years running, and then, like the squirrels in our yard, forget where I have stashed my winter stores.

Some of the sweaters are near duplicates—surely I can give these away. Rule of thumb: if your abundance goes unnoticed and supplies doubles, surely you have some to spare!

More abundance rediscovered this week: little snippets of reading, writing, or just plain sitting quietly. Going without TV (see Suspended Animation post), with one or two absent-minded exceptions, hasn’t been difficult at all. So far, my small episodes of reading, etc, are short attention span activities, too (has TV rotted my brain already?). But these pursuits seem to bring me back to my core self, while TV seems to help me avoid my inner life.

Finally, grateful for a long walk in heels to and from an appointment in NYC yesterday. The woman I met with mentioned her titanium hip, her multiple surgeries. My feet ache from pounding the pavement, but I relished every moment of the cool air, my sushi meal, the overdue exercise, and the sights and sounds of Manhattan.

There’s something about sweater weather, perhaps the added time for reflection, that sparks an “attitude of gratitude”.

Saying Thank You

Local readers: I will be at Burgundy Books in East Haddam tomorrow (Sunday, January 13) at 4PM, promoting Get Satisfied. Please come!

Pragmatics

-If your thank you note skills have gotten rusty, here’s a good primer.

-Still feeling stumped? Here are sample notes for all kinds of occasions.

-Here are some tips to encourage kids to write thank yous. For the beginning writer, they make fill in the blank cards—Mad Libs for etiquette!

-I liked this blog by a young woman with diabetes. Obviously challenged by the demands of the disease, she devoted her space to wholehearted thanks this past November.

-I recently saw some troops in the Memphis airport. Regardless of my feelings about the war, I saw their young faces and was struck by how much they are sacrificing. Check out the Gratitude Campaign’s video on saying thank you to these brave men and women.

Prose

After every celebratory event of my young life, I was strongly encouraged, ordered really, to put pen to paper and write a glowing thank you note. This practice has slipped a bit in recent years – I often let a phone call or e-mail suffice. But this year I’m savoring the thought of sitting down with my fresh packet of blank holiday thank you cards.

I’ve already received some thank yous. Aunt Norma penned the first note. She has always been the note writer, signing Uncle Jack’s name first, except now there is no choice in the matter. Uncle Jack suffers from dementia and Norma carries every task imaginable these days. Life has not been easy, from young married farm life through present health concerns for both of them. But I feel Norma’s irrepressible spirit when she writes of her “deep appreciation for our many blessings”. She also reminded me, as Jack turns 80, to “Spend some time enjoying life and togetherness. Time is so precious…”. My mom’s notes echo the same sincere thanks to a family that she loves deeply.

Tom’s sister Corlyne would not rest until she knew that Gavin’s package had arrived. I think of the many long-distance family members who phone in orders, wrap packages, and wait in line at the post office thinking of us. Christmas morning is peppered with their phone calls, some reunions with folks we should call twice as often.

My mom needed help to haul our gifts up the steps this year. She always manages a true surprise, this year a noisy electric guitar for Gavin. He picks it up at least once a day, and every “riff” recalls Christmas Day and his loving “Nanny-Jean”.

Our neighbor Mr. Dube is often a “wave-to” neighbor. Each year flies by, and we see him less when the cold weather sets in. But he is faithful in his pre-mass Christmas Eve visits, always wielding an oversized toy for Gavin and wine for the grownups. He also remembers Gavin’s February birthday, when I recall waving down the driveway to him while in labor, panting, “we’re off to the hospital, finally!”

This year’s thank yous don’t feel like obligations. They feel like a meditation on the many blessings that surround us, in the form of people who genuinely care. I guess I’ve got Aunt Norma’s and Mom’s appreciative genes, a gift I treasure more than any other.