nestled all snug

after going on and on to others about how i won't let myself feel bad about not making something special for anna because, after all, wouldn't it be nicer to make something WITH her after the rush of Christmas is over--i gave in and made her something special. and i'm so happy that i did. it didn't take too long, i learned a little more about sewing, and i think she'll really enjoy playing with it. i toyed around with making a dress for a doll--a doll which i picked up almost a year ago and still had hidden away until a few days ago. it's an old madame alexander doll similar to one which anna already has two of. but this one is from 1964 and sports a squeaker in her tummy. once i spotted her at a junk shop, i just couldn't leave her behind. it's body is a little shabby so i was trying to come up with a way to make her more presentable. after giving up on the dress idea, i came up with the idea for a sleeping bag. it's something anna can put other dolls in as well and can do it independently. seems like i'm always dressing her dolls for her. i pieced together various fabric, including remnants of an old dishtowel that i love dearly but was covered in grease stains.

i'm glad i didn't complete this until last night because i can't wait much longer to give it to anna.

for amy

this little candy-looking parcel will hopefully soon be in the crafty hands of my friend.

snow!

What happens when you ask a three year old to please go get the big bag full of fluffy, soft, white poly-fil and that three year old then asks for scissors? And then gets busy cutting up the plastic bag which you pretend not to notice because while you'd rather her not be doing this, you also really need to get just a little more sewing done and she's so pleasantly occupied and what does it hurt anyway if a little of the poly-fil makes its way out the bag? You get snow! Snow under the Christmas tree! Snow to slide around on as if you're on skates! Snow to take with you into your room! And a big exclamation of, "Mama! This is so much fun!"

received

I'm so excited. What could be better than seeing something wonderful on someone else's blog? Getting that something for Christmas! Or your daughter getting it, rather. I first saw it here and now it's at my house, having already been read four times since yesterday. Thank you, Amy, for Flicka, Ricka, Dicka Bake A Cake. We love it! Man, those girls wear the sweetest aprons.

(More about the other ingenious gift from Amy coming soon!)

hanging from the tree

a few years ago, i began venturing outside my boxes of traditional christmas ornaments and finding things around the house to hang on the tree. little things that i love to look at, but often take for granted. things that deserve to hold a place of honor once in a while. i love love love looking at them all christmas-time long. some of these objects include:

a tiny pocketwatch, an old rollerskate key, a string of buttons, a picture of our old cat workie (oh how i miss him), a creepy little bisque doll with no eyes, and a single miniature pinecone that i hung for eli last year when he was just a tiny thing in my tummy. then there are the hand-me-down bells and balls from my great-grandmother, little handmade elves from my grandmother, ornaments i've picked up at yard sales over that past ten years and special ornaments given to anna and eli from my mom.

i think the sign of a happy tree is when you enjoy looking at it even when the christmas lights aren't lit.

i don't go overboard when decorating but i love to stick a little decoration here or there, an old christmas postcard in the corner of the secretary shelf, a few wooden angels on the ledge of the door molding, a teeny tiny stocking on anna's doll highchair....most of these used to go unnoticed but these days my work pays off thanks to my highly observant three year old.

Two Down, Countless More To Go

Project No. 1: I've been trying to determine what type of window treatments our sunny, new bathroom would like to wear. Privacy would be nice but I can't stand blocking all the natural light that flows in (which makes it the warmest room in the house). So for now, this seems to be the solution: two fifty cent dishtowels hung on a thin rod in the bottom half of each window, leaving the top half exposed. Oh, it feels good to make a decision.

Project No. 2: I've owned a can of that spraypaint that turns any piece of wood into a chalkboard for at least 3 years and never used it. I remembered it the other day when I was trying to come up with a way to paint a wooden serving tray for my Dad. The spraypaint can had sat in the same spot in the laundry room for almost these three years when I recently decided to move it. Of couse then I couldn't remember where I'd moved it to. That always happens. But while I happened to be in the back building, looking for a rake, I spotted the paint in a place I never would have looked. I sprayed it on, painted the rest of the tray cream and am pretty happy with how it looks. The drawback to this product seems to be that chalk doesn't erase all that well from the surface. Nevertheless, my Dad will probably still appreciate it, especially since as soon as the paint was dry, I handed the chalk over to Anna. I love how my ho-hum gifts get stepped up a notch when they have anything to do with our kids.

Casting On

I had a few gift ideas that involved knitting. I got my needles out, sorted through my yarn, and set to work. Although I was all geared up to knit for a good long time, I stopped myself after about 20 mintues, remembering that last year when I knit for a long period of time (after not having knit for a few months), I got a bad case of Knitter's Thumb. At least, that's what I like to call it. The thumb on my right hand was stiff and sore for at least 3 weeks. It doesn't sound very tough to admit that the reason you flinch when shaking someone's hand is that you've had a knitting accident.

At any rate, this time around, after playing it safe and not over-knitting, the next time I picked up my needles, I had the quandry that I almost always have when I revisit a knitting project in which I am alternating from *knit* to *purl.* WHAT DID I DO LAST? Do I knit or do I purl? I examine the rows and my mind turns to jell-o. I cross my fingers (not really or I wouldn't be able to knit very well) and I decide that surely I ended on a purl. So I knit. And only after two more rows do I see that I have not chosen wisely. So I decide I'll incorporate my mistake into a ribbed pattern that looks intentional. But soon I make the same mistake again and decide that I should probably start over. I think it's time to come up with a system that works for remembering. And just forget the stockinette stitch until then.

Meanwhile, Anna has been begging me for some yarn and needles of her own so she can knit. Maybe she'll be better at keeping up with her knits and purls.

Do glasses really coast?

I finally pulled out the sewing machine. I have mixed feelings about doing this because while it indicates that I'm working towards completing some projects, it also means there will be a big mess on the dining room table for some time. And the dining room table is smack in the middle of our house where I see it, walk by it, and give it the evil eye all the day long. But there's really no other place for the sewing machine until one day we get our act together and organize the attic. It has such potential. I've decided recently that things (particularly areas of my house) which have potential bring me down. There just doesn't seem to be enough time to make these things reach their potential. Sigh.

On a brighter note, I started and finished a little something. It began as a pincushion and due to its largish size turned into a coaster. It's made from a skirt of blue and green fabric with little birds which I rescued out of an old empty house (the skirt, not the birds). The waistband was just on the side of being too small...not small enough to rule it out for a couple of years though. I've pulled it out of my closet countless times, but never actually worn it. But in my present state of being tired of all of our *stuff* that we don't use, I didn't hesitate the other night when the urge struck to take the scissors to it. There is an immense amount of material so I should get some good use out of it. So far, so good. This will probably go to my lovely Aunt Sue for Christmas.

Nothing Yet

It's been a long, challenging month. I keep thinking that I will soon have some time to work on a few projects. And thus have something to photograph and share. But I just haven't gotten that far yet. Soon. I'm trying to set some realistic goals as far as Christmas gifts go. I'd like to make a few zipper pouches for my nieces--just purchased zippers yesterday and now I get to sort through my fabric stash. I do this so often, without an actual project in mind. It will be a treat to pick out the fabrics knowing that they'll actually get to be used. I'm also using I-Photo to create a few photo books for our moms and my grandmother. It's easy and fun but I've gotten obsessed. I get started and don't want to stop. Poor Eli will be bouncing on my knee, ready for something new, and I'll keep telling myself, 'one more photo...' But how many other projects can I work on while holding a 3 month old? He's not so good around needles and scissors yet. Or guillotine papercutters and old letterpresses. Oh bother. That reminds me of how I will probably not get around to making Christmas cards this year. Even though we've recently acquired a new press. Much more to say which will have to wait. I get exhausted just thinking about the state of my studio and what it would take to get any work done out there right now. Hmmmm...wouldn't that make a nice Christmas present for me? A clean studio? Are you reading this, dear husband? Oh. But then I'd have no excuses (besides the children). Here's hoping that 2008 bears much new fruit in the way of cards, invitations and prints. And up there you'll see the only photo I have on my new laptop of some of my work. (Note to self: Take more pictures.)

It's going to be alright

Cemetery Etiquette

We stopped by one of the largest cemeteries around today, which happens to be about a mile from our house. It's a wonderful place to run around, especially in the fall. I found myself wondering about all sorts of things related to Proper Play at a Cemetery. For instance, is it okay for Anna to hop from one grave marker to another? So gleefully uninformed of what she's hopping on? She was quite respectful when it came to observing the enormous angels, and a little uneasy about the sculptures who were missing various limbs and digits. But I started to wonder: when is the right age to tell her what a cemetery really is? Is it okay to take a magnolia cone home with you? How far should I let Anna go on her own before I tell her to stop and head back toward me? And when she takes my hand and commands me to run, how far should we venture away from the car, where little Eli is sound asleep and unaware?

After poking around on the computer, I found some rules and guidelines regarding cemeteries:

1.Take only photos, leave only footprints. (Check)

2. Do not touch the memorials or artifacts. They are privately owned outdoor sculptures. (Oops)

3. Do not bring alcohol, firearms, or entertainment items into cemeteries. (Anna was entertaining, but I think that's okay; most of the time she provides entertainment without the aid of alcohol and firearms)

4. Maintain supervision of children and teach them respect for cemeteries. (Supervision of the child who was awake, yes...)

5. Do not litter, this includes cigarette butts. (Check)

6. Do not interfere with the plants or wildlife that inhabits the cemetery. (There was that magnolia cone)

7. Keep a respectful silence. Speak to your companions in a low tone of voice. (Totally broke this one)

8. Leave tombstones where you find them. (Oh, we weren't supposed to toss those around?)

9. Do not apply shaving cream to stones. (Um, check. I think this was for cemetery photographers, but it's definitely my favorite rule)

And I also learned that "Picnics are usually acceptable as long as you clean up afterwards." (Hurray!)

Then there's the countless wonderful names. I remember being pregnant with Anna and wandering through a similar cemetery, making notes and deciding we'd have to have a ridiculously large family in order to satisfy my longing to use so many wonderful names. Today there was "Millie Bell," "Mary England," Wellington McConnell," "Zulette Crumley," and "Ola Bob Jester Harbour." Mom, Dad, this is our newest child, Ola Bob.

*Note--I didn't have my camera; these photos are from last Thanksgiving

Addendum

I forgot to note that the night I posted my first entry, Eli started sleeping through the night. While I welcomed this long-awaited transition with very open arms, it also meant the end of those sometimes inspirational middle-of-the-night brainstorming sessions . However, some fever and fussiness following Eli's 2-month round of immunizations yesterday led to the old 4 am wake-up call. So I had about an hour to plan out some homemade Christmas ideas: I sorted through fabrics in my mind, visualizing aprons and tote bags and coasters. Maybe soon I'll have something to show for the mental energy I so often put towards projects which don't always materialize.

Listening to: the new Radiohead album
Reading: 'Misfortune' by Wesley Stace
Observing with Anna: Helen the spider in our backyard
Eating: Nutella and pretzels

Two

I'm not off to the best start. I struggled to recall my user name when trying to post this, my second blog entry. But here I am and I haven't a clue where to focus my thoughts. It's a strange thing to try to steer what I'm driven to write about towards those subjects which I can illustrate with photos. Not that I have to (and you'll see that I won't). But the blogs I find most interesting are full of photos. And as of today, there are over 5,000 photos in our I-Photo library. All scattered about with numbers for names. And all pleading with me to do something with them. Soon.

On a recent (and rare) shopping trip a couple of days ago, my search for a gift to cheer up a sad friend led me to the children's department at a local store. Since I've yet to find the perfect snuggly friend for Eli to grow old with, I perused the stuffed toys. As usual, they were all pretty offensive. But something under the mound of synthetic fur caught my eye. I reached in and pulled out a scrappy grey cat, all limp and nubbly and obviously well-loved. My heart swelled up inside. I thought of the child who might be missing their floppy old security cat. I thought of the time I left my SuperBoy on top of the gumball machine at the five-and-dime and how my granddaddy raced me back to look for him but without success. And how the monkey with the squeaky hand he bought me to replace SuperBoy didn't quite do the trick. What could I do to get this lost cat home? After tooling around the store for a bit longer, I decided to put the cat safely in my basket and tell the cashier that I'd found something that surely someone would be calling about. And then I hoped that the kitty wasn't disappointed that I'd taken him off the shelf where he was perhaps pleased to be posing as a brand new toy, convincing himself that he just might be chosen and taken home. Now all I can do is tell myself that there was a happy ending. And encourage Anna to leave her dolls in the car.

Nourishment

I'm good at making lists. Maybe too good. I make mulitples lists, get overwhelmed, sometimes letting my lists defeat me. But when I get the chance to mark things off a list, boy oh boy. So in these sleepless teeny tiny baby days, when the only thing I know I'll do for sure is get up around 4am to nurse my 8 week old, I make lots and lots of lists: mental lists. I sit in the dark and I compose letters and stories and Christmas ideas. Sometimes I feel inspired, sometimes I feel heavy with the growing lists of things I hope to accomplish. And in these aforementioned teeny tiny baby days, I can also feel pretty indecisive, what with all the constant decision making that's sorta thrown upon you when you have a child of any age. So while an idea might seem grand in the wee hours of the night, I begin to second-guess it the next day. Or second-guess my ability to put forth the energy to see the idea through. Last night, the theme of the 4am mental planning session was blogs. I go back and forth about how I feel about them, whether or not I want one, and what my motivation is or should be for having one. And like my lists, they can inspire me one day and bring me down the next. However, right now I need some motivation to create and I need it bad. So I figure it can't hurt too bad to follow the scattered morsels of popcorn into the world of blogging. I could put it off, like I've done countless times before, and I could make lists of what I'd like to have together before I start. Or I could tell myself that I'll start once I've settled into being a mother of two. But what if my littlest one starts sleeping through the night soon and I don't have all these nightly sessions full of growing (and nagging) creative to-do lists? I may actually miss them and I may miss the chance to triumphantly mark some items off my list(s).