It seems at least a century ago, but it was 2005, not 1905. Some friends invited me to stay with them for New Years' Eve and day in their rustic home in central Virginia. They weren't throwing a party or even sipping any bubbly alcoholic beverage. It was the quiet darkness of the countryside, with an owl-hoot here and there. There weren't any fireworks or celebratory shots in the air. The lady of the couple was trying to get some work done. She had promised that she would finish crocheting the afghan she was working on, before the new year. So there she was, crocheting away in the closed-in front porch, warmly wrapped in already-finished footage. This is what people do in winter, no matter what century it is.
Black technical pen on sketchbook page, 7" x 8", December 31, 2005. Click for larger view.