Vibe Check #20

I used to write a Vibe Check blog post at the end of each month. I haven't written one for six or seven months, and I miss writing them. But also I have been busy.

Mists on the River Thames

The view from Brill Hill

November 2024 was a very autumnal month. Here in Oxford it's been blustery, and it's been flood-y. Parts of the Tow Path, both up- and down-stream have been intermittently under 5cm-50cm of water for the last couple of weeks. We had a flurry of snow a couple weeks back, too - making the world crisp and etherial for a few hours.

It's also been my penultimate month at my current job. In the new year I start a new position, returning to a more leadership-y role. I wanted the transition from Head Of to Senior, but I don't think it matches my sensibilities. I am, for better and worse, unable to see something and not voice my opinion of it. I know about grasses and fences, but I'm hopeful that being able to lean into this a little more will make me happier.

It's winter, and so I have adopted my favourite winter sport: knitting. This year I'm learning to make socks. Having started one on double-pointed needles (DPNs), I frogged it…

Another word in knitting for “undo”, is “rip”. When you are undoing stitches, we often say you are “ripping it”. IE: “Rip it, Rip it” sounds like “ribbit ribbit” and that’s how we get the term Frogging. (knittinginthepark.com)

I've now started again on circular needles: the ones are that two needles, connected with a little cable running between them - though "cable" in knitting means something else. I forget how good knitting is for mostly-listening work meetings. It's something to do with my hands, and helps me focus, and not want to check emails/slack (which I would never do in a meeting, obviously).

Christmas approaches. I think the household will see its first decoration before the sun goes down on Monday (it is Sunday as I write this). I love Christmas decorations. Make the house all cosy and bright, as the rhythms of the natural world continue to slow themselves. I find the first six weeks after solstice the most difficult - nature needs a rest, as we all do, and as it lies in wait of for friendly conditions. It very sensibly seeks to wait-it-out.

I am reminded always of how much more harrowing winter would have been for my ancestors. How lucky I am to live in a time with fairy lights and central heating, microwaves and freezers.

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