Twenty-One Take-Aways from Five Winters of Care and Repair
Lessons learned through 451 acts of care and repair
During more than 90 consecutive days of daily mends, five winters in a row, I’ve thought a lot about all aspects of mending, tending, care, and repair. Turns out there are quite possibly infinite ways to consider this theme, and each year has brought me a new opportunity to experience Winter of Care and Repair in a slightly different manner. I’ve documented the item, its needed repair, the time taken, tools used, and techniques employed for each act of care and repair in two small notebooks, which has allowed me to look back on all the details.
Year One (2020-21) was the first lockdown winter of the Covid-19 pandemic, full of uncertainty, worry, and instability. Winter of Care and Repair was born out of a need for me to have Something To Do during a long season at home.
Year Two (2021-22) saw us preparing to sell our home in Boise, ID, in anticipation of moving to Spain. The second care-and-repairer joined with their own personal project.
Year Three (2022-23) began in limbo living in my parents’ home while awaiting visas, and wrapped up with the first three weeks of our new life in Spain.
Year Four (2023-24) was the most “stable” year and our first full winter in southern Spain (also the least conventionally “wintry” of all so far); it also was the year I was first interviewed by Zoe on Check Your Thread Podcast, leading to significant growth in participation of folks around the world.
Year Five (2024-25), this year, another year of global uncertainty and turmoil, I had planned to dive into community action as care and repair, however, life had other plans. This season has been split into two stark halves: first we started moving one week before the Winter Solstice while simultaneously preparing our home to sell; then beginning at the cross-quarter day of winter, I spent a month in the States caring for a dear family member during the final days of her life, followed by tending to and rehoming her belongings. Instead of branching outward to care for my greater community, life directed me to lean inward to care for my most important people.
Each of these seasons has, like life the rest of the year, been busy and restful, quiet and hectic, novel and tedious. Committing to a daily act of care or repair each winter has been grounding (not to mention productive, although I’ve also been working on detaching my perceptions of self-value from my to-do list), and has provided me many hours of reflection. Here are 21 take-aways from 451 days of care and repair.
It’s going to take less time than you think
It’s going to take more time than you think
If it’s worth repairing, it’s worth repairing right
Even if you have to redo it
It’s all worth repairing
Even if you end up not being able to fix it
Everything has a natural end point
No one individual act makes the difference, but every small act adds up. You are everyone
Repairing is caring
You’re going to have to mend this thing again later - that’s part of the commitment to your belongings. Mending is never done
To speed up, slow down. Or, “the hurried-er I go, the behind-er I get”
Doing something feels good
Doing too much at once can physically hurt you (See also: back exercises as care and repair)
While rage and angst can push you into action, sustaining that action comes from a place of calm
Mending can be relaxing, but don’t expect every mend to relax you
Be prepared. Preparation reduces friction and makes sustained activity possible
You can do anything, but not everything, and that is ok
If you have time to scroll, you have time to sew (credit to Zoe of Check Your Thread for this clever phrasing!)
Practice makes better: the more you do, the more you learn, the better you get
You’ll relearn these lessons many times
You are still yourself. That is amazing
Very insightful 21 points. Thanks for the list. I might just need to do this as an printout next to the repair station