what the body remembers

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I never thought I had such a silly heart, but boy, it doesn't take much these days to kick up a jig.
Of necessity, New Year's Eve will be quiet. R and I will stay home.
On the menu: grilled salmon. Just before the salmon is finished, we slather it with pesto, top that with finely sliced marinated dried tomatoes, then back under the grill till the edges of the tomatoes char--only a minute. The salmon is served on a bed of baby arugula lightly dressed with lemon and olive oil. Feeble heart doesn't mean I've lost my appetite.
Later in the evening I might start knitting a sweater with the gorgeous kettle-dyed merino wool R gave me for Xmas. The brand is called Malabrigo Rios. Variegated yarn so luscious in texture and colour that I hold it and marvel--partly because I worry it will look a lot less rich once I start to torture it with the needles.

I haven't knit a sweater for close to 30 yrs. My hands still know how to knit, purl, crossover, increase and decrease. I can cast on like I did it just yesterday. The movements aren't the problem. I'm alarmed at the revolution in knitting patterns. I've only ever knit from the bottom up--the back, the front, the sleeves. You knit distinct pieces, then sew them together. What's this nonsense about knitting a whole sweater in one piece from the neckline down?
The two helpful women who work at Mouliné, an excellent yarn store on Notre Dame in Montreal, tried to convince me that knitting like this works very well. On a circular needle the weight of the yarn gets  distributed more evenly, there are no bulky seams, etc etc. Two women, who were sitting at a table knitting, got in on the discussion too. Yet even as this charming bevy of advisers encouraged me--and even as I agreed with them, appreciating their advice--I thought it was crazy. I'm not ready for a neck-down project. I want a bottom-up pattern. I'm not against trying something new, but not for the first time with such expensive yarn, and not when I'm going to be convalescing from surgery, unable to take my botched knitting to the store for help.
I don't make New Year's resolutions. Birthdays are my watershed for wondering where I've gone and where I'm going next. New Year's is when I have to remember to write a new number for the date. I'm happy, too, that the short winter days are starting to get longer.
Okay, back to looking at for a pattern that makes sense...
I'm relying on my hands to remember how to knit. I'm relying on my wonky heart to remember to keep beating.