I've long thought of this day as my private New Year's. It has always signified new beginnings for me.
Many years ago, the flu I thought I had was confirmed to be pregnancy. It seemed most fitting. When I raised Texas longhorn cattle and Appaloosa horses this day was an assessment - enough hay? enough pasture? who is pregnant? when due?
I've forgotten so much about pregnancies.
Now this day signifies other things.
My ex left me a few days after this date 14 years ago - I had to think of how to go on from the farm, the livestock, the endurance riding (my body couldn't maintain all of that anyway - the divorce was a blessing in disguise).
I met M a few weeks from this date 13 years ago. There was the new beginning I never expected!
I ordered my first saxony spinning wheelabout this time a decade ago - with the intent of spinning finer wools.
Big changes in my life...
Marge Piercy in her book What Are Big Girls Made Of? wrote this poem:
All Lovers Have Secret Names
The day I forget to write
the day I forget to feed the cats
the day I forget to love you
the day I forget your name
and then my own.
Until then I will not cease
this spinning pattern: part weave
of skeins of soft wool to keep
us warm, to clothe our too open
flesh, to decorate us --
and part dance, through the woods
where roots trip me, a dance
through meadows of rabbit holes
and old ribs of plowing hidden
uner thick grass.
Until then I will whirl
through my ragged days.
Like a spindle, like a dreydl
I will turn in the center
of my intricate weave
spelling your name in my dance
in my weaving, in my work,
your hidden name which
is simply, finally,