Light and Momentary

Christmas preparations

Three days until Christmas, and some things never change.

I have undertaken an utterly bonkers Christmas knitting project. You would think I would know better by now, but you would be wrong. I will show you pictures after its recipient opens it, but a lot of knitting needs to happen between now and then. Hoo boy, a lot of knitting.

I volunteered to sing for the early Christmas morning Mass, and I thought it would be a mellow undertaking, aside from the 7am call time. I was expecting it to be 4 hymns, all familiar. But! Another musician volunteered me to play guitar so he could play bass instead, and I said, sure, no problem, I can do that. And! The director announced that we'd be singing a Christmas hymn I'd never heard PLUS Mary Did You Know.

Mostly when I hear Mary Did You Know, I change the radio station or tune out. I'm not sure why it bugs me so much -- maybe because it seems written to be a Stirring Solo Piece? Maybe because it's theologically sketchy? But I am very fond of this director. If she asked me to sing a communion hymn written to the tune of Baby Shark, I would do my best to imbue it with reverence and joy. So-- I am singing Mary Did You Know. And you guys, I think it has the longest vocal range of any piece I've ever sung.

People complain about The Star-Spangled Banner, which spans an octave plus a fifth. That's the same as Silent Night, which has that whole folksy backstory but which is actually a bear to sing. One of its high notes falls at the end of a phrase, just as you're running out of breath support. But Mary Did You Know spans an octave plus a SEVENTH, which is just silly. If Handel doesn't ask his sopranos to span that wide a range across the entire Messiah, surely the Mary Did You Know songwriters could have reined it in.

I had not planned to squish much music practice into the days before Christmas, but I have guitar parts to learn and I have to figure out how to make it somewhat musical as I flop around between chest voice and head voice on Mary Did You Know. And the knitting, oh my goodness, the knitting.

Winter woes and their partial solutions

This is the time of year when my brain is slow and sluggish. My job is at peak intensity and my energy level is at its lowest ebb, which is not an optimal combination.

If you know someone else who struggles with winter, I have some suggestions!

FIRST, my light box helps a lot. I bought it in 2005 or 2006 and it is going strong.

SECOND, I am taking fish oil and vitamin D every day and they seem to make a difference. I ran out of vitamin D last month and didn't replace it immediately, but I bought more when I found myself in the throes of sunlight hunger again.

THIRD, I am dressing for the weather. I am a total wool convert, you guys, after thinking a year ago that my friend sounded a leetle bit like she had joined a wool cult. I've always worn more wool than average because I'm a knitter, but I've given away a surprising fraction of my non-wool clothing over the past year. If you are shopping for a generous and magical gift for a person who spends a lot of time outside in winter, these leggings might be the single best piece of winter clothing I've ever owned. Fantastically warm outside, but perfectly comfortable indoors. I would not have believed you if you had told me that I could wear leggings more than once without washing them, so you might not believe me when I tell you: they really are odor-resistant. If you use this link we can both get $20 off. (Sometimes Woolx lets you stack discounts, and they offer promo codes with some regularity, but I am not sure about the details.)

FOURTH, I am looking for little pockets of winter cheer. This is the fifth Advent in which I have used my Christmasy washi tape. In 2019 I bought some with and some without gold foil, and it has bedecked my bullet journals every year since then. I also bought a bag of these toffee truffles to pass around after Advent vespers, and they are very tasty.

FIFTH, I am going to bed stupid early because I seem to need a little more sleep in December. I spent a lot of years arguing with myself about that one, but I never managed to win the argument. So! Good night! There are only 18 days until the solstice -- we can do it!