Thursday, November 30, 2017 at 9:33 AM
The needles click softly in the warm room
while in the pot the turnip starts to stew.
The mulled wine on the stove is steaming too,
while the youngest munches cookies through and through.
Josefa is looking forward to the tree,
and knits a stocking—can this really be!
And afterward she crochets a blanket as well
while the housework falls by the wayside, you can tell.
The apartment smells of cookies baking,
on the sofa my little cat is napping.
Despite the mulled wine, the stocking is nearly done,
but the yarn is poor quality, which is no fun.
Oh dear, what do I do with it now?
Unravel it—that keeps me fit somehow.
Josefa can go and get some aid
from all the helpful CP authors who have patterns made.
Meanwhile she looks for the Christmas baubles bright,
"Which colors are in? I'll google that tonight."
And where have all the pretty crochet stars gone?
I have the idea: "I'll make them myself," I'll gladly get that done.
Quick as a flash, the yarn is here already.
As radiant in yellow as the sun, so steady.
But where can I get a pattern from?
The answer to that question isn't a tricky one.
Looked on Crazypatterns, hooray!
There they are already—on the picture in the snow they lay
One click—this pattern has to be mine.
With joy I could shout out loud and shine
But what was that? There's a knock at the door!
Never mind, I don't have time for that anymore.
The socks won't let me go
Then it knocks again! Who is that, though?
Let me in! comes the sound from outside
It's me, of course—St. Nicholas!!
Oh man, he has the big stocking with him
what's inside, I really do care on a whim!
I'm so curious, I want to know,
mandarins, nuts, and the soft yarn I wished for—I don't want to let them go.
The yarn comes first of all.
I hope Santa knows that call.
Full of anticipation, Josefa opens the door
happily grabs the packages and thanks Santa warmly for them once more.
Now where is the yarn inside?
Oh man, my excitement I just can't hide.
In the first little package is a toaster
then comes an Elvis Presley poster
The yarn has to be in here somewhere...
Maybe here? No ... just a beautiful lucky stone to spare.
No yarn at all? That can't be right!
Who snatched it—what woolly little sprite?
At last I have found it, my delight.
What joy! I'll knit it in the round tonight!
Praise and thanks be to the Christ Child!
and I'll make myself cozy on the stove bench for a while.
But Christmas isn't over yet; someone is at the door.
After all, it's only quarter to four.
Then the smartphone rings as well—who could it be?
Surprise: more yarn is announcing itself to me :-)
Aunt Auguste arrives with even more little packages.
Where can we find a free corner for all these packages?
After a moment's thought, it comes to me:
In the kitchen: in the oven! There's still room, you see!
But—oh dear—now I've discovered it too soon:
Someone has already hidden something there this afternoon.
There lies a little package with a red bow,
Inside there's no yarn, because it smells like soap, you know!
Mischief is now sitting on my neck
I'll simply let the whole thing "sink in," what the heck
Because soap in the oven isn't something you find every day.
Does anyone have another question, pray? ;-)
Aunt Auguste is a little surprised,
after all, she'll soon be 100, quite wise.
A suitable hiding place was found after all.
Meanwhile the knitting needles make their rounds and call.
What do you think, where might this hiding place be found?
Could it perhaps be somewhere back there, around?
exactly, there's still space back there in the cupboard
and also in the stove bench, undiscovered.
Ah, there are still so many hiding places,
in Grandma's cupboard there in the hallway spaces.
But now, quickly, put it in there,
suddenly the doorbell rings; it's my neighbor Mrs. Schmidt waiting there
No one had expected her, I suspect
So now they quickly dash to the door direct.
Mrs. Schmidt only wants to borrow 2 eggs...
but they have to be free-range eggs.
Oh God, oh God, what stress,