Write, Mama. Write.

Happy Halloween

It's hard to get non-blurry, wild safari, action shots.

Come to think of it the live cooking show pics aren't easy either these days (those are pumpkin cookies!).

Enjoy your day!

Just what we needed

I dragged us to the lake on Friday, feeling sorry for myself.  Both of us were going a little crazy and I was so sick.  Any of my former employers or coworkers in previous jobs would have sent me off home to bed, but in this line of work my guy just wanted me to make LUNCH and TWIRL and read BOOKS and... MAMA!  You know how that goes, right? 

And then suddenly the sun was bouncing off the water, ducks swirling through sparkles.  The boy was running, moving gravel, changing the day.  The wind ruffled everything just a little.  There were KITES, and DOGS, A HEART and... MAMA!  It was a bit like that intense newborn period where we were lost to the world's rhythms and then slowly introduced ourselves to more as a family of three.  I remember walking up the long, railroad tie stairs from our cabin by the water not even a month from his birth, looking ahead into the woods.  The trees appeared in layers, as if in my grandparents' stereoscope viewer.  My eyes had forgotten about distance as we woke and fed and fell in love.  This time I'd forgotten bits of the overwhelming joy as we stayed inside and healed. 

There is nothing like being outside with this boy in the fall, wind ruffling, joy audible, bouncing, running, moving, changing.  It all comes into focus. 

This is the last one

I forgot about these...  I found the cute umbrellas on Target clearance once upon a time and stocked up.  They needed little oilcloth totes to go with them, don't you think, for rainy day trips to the library?  Three more two year old gifts.  Phew! 

Speaking of rain, I prepared a picnic lunch for the masses (playgroup) this morning and the park was just right when we got there.  We started swinging and then came the rain, puddles, wet pants, crying, lack of appropriate weather gear and cold hands.  Luckily it was sunny this weekend and the guys were able to play lots outside while I recuperated and worked a bit on our big Handmade Holiday on the Sew, Mama, Sew! blog.  I'll link to the "here's all the buzz" post Wednesday... It's going to be completely fantastic, but I will say I've now dreamed about tutorials three nights in a row.  Better tutorials than Sopranos, I guess, because we did finally start in on the last shows.  I'm such a wuss and they're so good at toying with my emotions. 

Speaking of the holidays now, is it only me or do other people freak out just a little bit about it all at this point?  I love Thanksgiving and Christmas, carols, good will, the lights, smells, joy, and even most of the togetherness the holiday season brings.  We always debate about when the Christmas CDs can come out to play (Me: NOW!, T: Nope...).  BUT, it totally freaks me out when people talk about having everything done, X-number of presents already handcrafted, etc.  Sometimes the catalogs freak me out a bit too.  On the other hand, I totally want to be one of those people with everything done, X-number of presents already handcrafted, etc.  I want to casually sit on my couch in pajamas, sipping hot cocoa, thumbing through holiday fare while the Christmas CDs play, presents wrapped in October. 

It's never going to happen. 

Birthday crafting

This should just about finish up the two year old birthday crafting for a few months!  I mentioned the bunting in a previous, accidentally deleted post.  The gist of the mention was that I've had the fabric for this for over five months and am definitely a deadline crafter these days!  I was worried they'd look too Indy 500/Jiffy Lube-ish, but they are just plain fun.  It's a totally easy, happy, rewarding little sewing project.  I'm completely pro-bunting now.  There are lots of ways to do these, but I liked sewing them together (with a zig zag stitch) first before cutting them out (again) with pinking shears (they're two-sided).  I wanted the two sides to match up "just so" and this way they did.  I used leftover bias tape and three feet was perfect.  We have the Halloween version up now!

These crowns had about five different looks to them, but I'm finally happy with the way they turned out.  I was going for a festive/celebratory approach rather than a nature/Waldorf look.  When I taught first grade I cut heavy card stock into huge crowns and then spray painted them gold, stapling to fit on birthday mornings.  Kids felt so special all day long (wouldn't you?).  I did a rough estimation and I think I've made about 200 crowns in my life thus far!

The start to a good day

Hot coffee.

A little art.

Inspiration.

Wishing you good things this weekend...  We're going to all get healthy.  Do you hear that, World?  Health for this little family, please.

I really like this one...

This one is my favorite of the two shower gifts.  I love this fabric (I've used it before!) and had such fun with this Disappearing Nine Patch Tutorial.  It was really, really fun to make.  I think I like this fabric because it's so good for a boy: cute but not too cute and boy but not too stereotypically boy (does that make any sense?).  This fabric, and those Pez (bits of which are in here too).

I think I might be partial to dots too, for some reason.

Quilt for Baby, using what I had

Here's the first of two quilts I made for a combined shower on Monday.  We missed the shower when the Fall o' Illness reared its ugly head once more.  But the sun is shining.  The boy is better.  And I made a quilt for a new baby, using what I had. 

Someone gave me a charm pack of Moda's Pampered Pooch and I'm not really a pampered pooch sort of gal but babies like dogs, right?  I like the high contrast too, and the colors were good for all of these new baby boys we have around here.  I cut the fabric for borders one night and forgot that I intended to put a border around each square (making the quilt bigger and spreading the busy squares out a bit).  Bigger borders and red corner squares solved the problem.  The black, batting and blue were all given to me and the back is from a sheet set on the Target clearance rack.  All in all a $2 and two hour investment but something I like and feel proud to give (it's not so wrinkly now that it's been washed; now it's just "quilty"). 

When I started really sewing again after a childhood stitching next to Mom, I made quilts for everyone.  They weren't fancy or very well-made, but I love the "building" of it all.  I love seeing what happens (I quilt like I cook... A little of this might look/taste nice?  Could this work?  No... Let's turn it into this...).  Quilt packs (prepackaged fabric and patterns) baffle me.  I like taking little bits and turning them into something bigger.  I like knowing that randomly, in future moments, someone will enjoy coziness and warmth from something I made.  More photos here, if you're so inclined.

I made something

I actually made quite a few somethings, but I had a ton of fun with the cake because it brought a big grin to my two year old's face.  It was the most fun my husband and I have had in weeks (the cloud of sickness, you know) and we were happy with the train if not the caboose (which was tucked away and tucked into by Daddy after the party).  Our make-up party was for family, and there were a lot of family members in our little living room.  Everyone burst forth with applause each time the boy made a basket in his new hoop and I realized that every one of those people will applaud every time he does something silly, wonderful or amazing his whole life long.  They all know him and love him and find awe in who he is and what he does. 

He knew it too.  He knew all about the love and awe and he knew the party was his.  He also knew the orange cupcake cars with elephant passengers were all for him.

Onward & upward

Oh, dear.  That last post: a bit of a downer.   I have funny internal arguments any time I write something like that and hit "Publish Now..."  That's too much.  Why can't you just put a funny, poignant spin on it?  But it really matters to me when I read something from the heart about parenting.  People won't get how much you absolutely love being home.  But you're not writing for other people.  Why write if you don't write what you feel?  Oh, yeah...  It's really hard sometimes and nobody ever seems to say that so I feel we, too often, feel that it's all supposed to be something different when really it's all just fine and normal (I tend towards run-on thought sentences).  Somebody should say it.

You know, stuff like that.  Thank goodness I usually just hit the button and spare you the inner dialog!  Instead of the Gee's Bend exhibit (which, if you're in the greater-Seattle area, is at the TAM through December and I hear it's absolutely wonderful) we had a rollickin' wind storm.  I hate worrying about a tree hitting the house (we have huge, beautiful trees surrounding us and I always question whether the current storm will be a tree's last) but I love the wind.  I think of John Muir up in the treetops, riding out a storm in a nature adventure; I wish I could do the same.   Last night was supposed to be my sewing night (big doings due Monday for a combined shower, birthday celebration) but we lost power early in the day.  We fled the house for homemade soup, great company and a cozy fire and then I watched part of "Oklahoma" on the computer in bed.  I saw it at the library the other day and I'm a total sucker for musicals.  I don't think I've watched it since I was about six (totally different understanding of "I Cain't Say No" this time around) but I know all of the songs.  My mom sang all through the days and nights of our childhood, and my grandparents made me tapes of musicals when I was little.  In my most sleepy moments of 3 a.m. boy rocking I can sing the entire score of "The Music Man" and every Christmas song without thinking. 

We started the day right with a special breakfast out, just us two.  Mr. Cookie Baker came to life in our little hometown, open kitchen bakery.  We listened to farm talk at the next table, and I got a little parenting advice from the woman two tables down (the kind of nostalgic, sweet parenting advice from a woman who loves her kids and grandkids... The sort I don't mind!).

Things I'm looking forward to this weekend: some time to sew (perhaps that's the little "product" boost I need), finally a two year old birthday party with family, "Ugly Betty" on the computer during nap time (my Friday afternoon indulgence, you can watch it online the day after it airs) and perhaps a little more raking (all three together).  Enjoy yours!

Illness-imposed microcosm begets questions of what is more

I'm struggling with this.  I know I've written about it before but bear with me as I think through my fingers again.  I raked the backyard today, wind blowing fiercely and the boy yelling from the deck to let him "DOWN!" so he could help (he did for awhile but then we were having safety/listening issues and I decided a little non-Mama boundary would be good for a moment or two).  The wind made the job a bit of a folly, but once the majority of reds, yellows and browns were down the hillside I felt a moment of satisfaction.  It startled me a bit.  See, this is Day #12 of being stuck at home, the two of us fairly ill with, of course, no company.  I know, deep down, that all of the laundry and cooking and toddler entertainment I do here at home matters to the three of us.  When we have more of a normal existence, with playgroup and Children's Museum visits and long walks through the neighborhood, there's a happy rhythm to our days and the tedium of repeated acts is tempered by other parts of life (other people, other sights, new stimuli). 

In this illness-imposed microcosm of Mama/Toddler/ Housework though, there haven't been any discrete accomplishments.  See, even writing that doesn't feel right... I really do know that nursing a sick little boy through the night is a major accomplishment.  I know things like home-cooked meals are a success.  Most of the days and nights though are full of the type of thing that, once you finish it, needs to be done all over again.  I suppose there are lots of jobs where it feels like that.  Maybe that's just the nature of "work," even when it's deeply satisfying and meaningful work like this.  Even as a teacher my students' successes weren't products but rather the growth.  I know the often intangible growth and learning is important, and work that matters isn't always (or even usually) about a discrete result.

Maybe it's just a personality flaw because I get all of this on some level but I seem to desperately want concrete proof that what I did on a given day, as a Mama or just as a person living here in this moment, accomplished something.  I think this gets to the core of why it can be hard sometimes to work as a Mama at home.  There's occasionally this little touch of wanting so much to matter, in that way unique to yourself; it can cause me to race around trying to find something to satisfy that feeling of tangible "accomplishment" (without enough thought about whether that something really matters to me). 

I think being home with this little boy is the biggest gift and the most important thing in my life thus far.  There's no question of that.  The question is how to satisfy other parts of me, because there are other parts of me.  When I want more there's a little annoying voice that speaks up who often feels I'm negating the value of what is.  And what is the more?  If I did too much "extra" wouldn't it water down my efficacy in the Mama role (I'm good at juggling but I need sleep)?  How do people nurture that need for concrete "proof?"  Or is one of my current life lessons to learn that the concrete/discrete/product isn't necessary for an enlightened Mama?  Could I ever be an enlightened Mama?  Is it normal to love what I do and want some sort of tangible measurement of doing?

You'd think I'd be able to come up with a good metaphor for all of those boxes, wouldn't you?

Woops.

Hmmm.  It appears I accidentally deleted my last post.  Here are the highlights: blah, blah, visit great new blog from someone I actually know: Snap Happy Mama, blah, blah, going to see Gee's Bend exhibit tomorrow, blah, blah.  My entire Hotmail inbox also bit the dust the other day (all 500 or so messages I was going to sort-out/respond to/what have you).  Poof! 

In other news: the Halloween decorations are beginning to encroach on the Fall decorations (Exhibit A: door) and the birthday decorations must stay 'til our make-up celebration on Sunday.  Yikes. 

Tonight the boy popped up, ran off urgently and came back yelling, "MAMA! MAMA!"  He thrust Buddhism for Mothers at me.  Hmmm.

Hanging out & getting healthy

We're playing with trains, fabric, dinosaurs and the camera.  The high chair is so Bear can watch us if he wants to.

Someone's in the kitchen...

Someone's in the kitchen with Mama. 
Someone's in the kitchen, I know. 
Someone's in the kitchen with "MAAAMAAA!"
Bangin' on the ol' pots and pans...

And running, SHOUTing, organizing,
Moving all the furniture around.
Opening the refrigerator all day looooong,
Helping with all his might.

Elephants, without slacks & heels

I made an elephant, finishing up about 30 minutes before the croup hit.  Birthday Boy wants to name him "Grandpa" but I maintain that will cause confusion.

This past week, spanning the stomach flu through croup, the boy and I have done numbers 2, 3, 7, 11, 13, 15, 19, 26, 30, 32, 34 (modified for contagion: car ride), 35, 41 and 45.  We also read countless books (over and over), did so many loads of laundry together and just sort-of wandered around trying to entertain each other in our 725 square foot quarantine zone.  During one of our doctor visits a nurse noticed my exhaustion, I guess, and asked if I'd been up all night with him (yes).  Then she asked if I worked outside of the home (no).  Then she said, "Well, that's a relief.  Can you imagine having to work when you've been up with a sick child?  Double-timing like that would be so hard. (etc., etc.)"  Oh.  Huh.  I get that dressing in slacks and heels wouldn't be my preferred dress in such a case (it wouldn't ever be my preferred dress, for the record), and if I had to interact with loads and loads of people in a job it would be hard after staying up all night.  But I'm not sitting around, snoozing in my pajamas all day (OK, maybe I stayed in my pajamas 'til noon a few days in a row).  Taking care of a really sick toddler is tough stuff, especially when you're sick too and especially when it's his birthday!  There.  That's what I wanted her to hear.  I read somewhere that often people who love to write have a distinct personality type.  It said writing gives this group of people a way to "say" what they always wish they could say but they might be too shy, contemplative, courteous, what-have-you to do so in the moment (the moment of initial interaction that sparks the thoughts).  That's me.  So, Group Health Lady, I'm beat.  A day at an office, sitting on a comfortable chair with coffee, sounds like a bit of a vacation right now.

The cupcakes don't look like much, and the whole "eating your birthday cake after an evening at Urgent Care"-thing was sort-of sad.  But the birthday bib made it a bit more celebratory.  He liked it.

Elephant data: 100% lambswool from a thrifted, vintage $2 sweater (with holes) and Trina's fabric for ears and feet.  From Toys To Sew, Pull-Along Nelly without the pull-along and named, for the moment, Grandpa.  The book was due at the library so I copied the template but wanted him bigger.  I used the highly technical let's-just-cut-the-pieces-yeah-bigger approach, to give him bulk, and I have no idea how the tummy's supposed to be put together on this fellow (didn't copy the instructions).  He's very special and unique, I'd say.  I kind-of love how, due to my sewing ineptitude, he plops on his big belly wherever he goes.  He was instantly trumped by Great Aunt Sharon's stuffed dinosaur gift, Douglas!

And now we are two years old

You know that feeling of watching trees zoom by from inside a car?  When I was little I loved when Dad drove us all somewhere far away, talking to Mom in the front passenger seat while my sister listened to tunes on her headphones.  I'd position myself so I was looking up at the leaves flying by, so all I could see was the tree tops.  It felt safe, comforting and cozy.  It was beautiful, surprising, fast yet remarkably calming.  Things felt vast out in the world, and the moments freed my mind up for big thoughts about little things. 

That is what life is like with my boy.

It seems like I blinked and two years disappeared like one of those passing trees, but I also feel I've always known this little boy.  I've always loved this big boy.  It's all beautiful, surprising, fast yet remarkably calming.  It's big.

Birthday cupcakes? Check.
Crown (as requested)? Check.
Birthday elephant? Check.
Letter for the birthday boy? Check.
Food for Saturday's family party? Check.
Birthday banners? Check.
Unfortunately, it's also: Croup? Check. 

He's an efficient little fellow and my boy's getting all of his seasonal illnesses over in one big week.  Croup is a totally scary illness, isn't it?  It even sounds terrible: croup... with a stridor cough.  I picture a bad character in a scary movie when I hear the word, "Stridor."  He got a steroid shot this birthday morning, and still maintained a relatively steady disposition.  As I held him last night I just thought over and over how grateful I am not to be a pioneer mom in the middle of nowhere, up holding a little one with that scary, labored breathing and bark.  Thank goodness for health care (even though the nurse tried to give me a lecture about how he should be drinking cow's milk even though he's allergic to milk and I'm his mama and I know he needs calcium and... I feel sorry for her, just ever-so-slightly, for getting in my mama bear way this morning).  Thank goodness for birthdays and Daddy's who leave work early to build big birthday forts and thank goodness for my big two year old boy.  Everything's flying by so fast but it's beautiful, comforting and surprising.  Happy Birthday, Big Boy (he argued, "MAN," last night!).

It's Fall outside

And in.  This little branch from our curly willow had a feather attached.

The heat wars started and finished this weekend.  We have this same discussion every fall, a stereotype in reverse.  I'm the one who lowers the thermostat and someone else in this family (ahem) wants it up.  I say, "It's tropical in here" and he says, "We need to be warm."  I say, "We just need to wear sweaters" and he says, "You're just trying to save money.  We need heat."  We always adjust to thermostat harmony within a few days. 

We all finally got a little sleep last night.  One of the best parts of fall is flannel sheets, in my humble opinion.  Oh, and slippers.  Heating pads.  Cocoa.  OK, maybe I should turn the heat up a bit. 

Arg.

Not a vigorous yell but more of a cranky sigh-type thing.  Arg.  The flu hit.  I wish someone was coordinating all of this with a spreadsheet, thereby realizing with data that our poor little boy has already had his share of colds, molar pain and flu for the season.  So, no sleep or fun for anyone with the exception of Friday night, pre-flu, when we (all three) hit the town's fall art "festival."  Picture 150(ish) artist exhibits, stores open late for shows, music in the streets, chalk drawing on closed-off roads for the littles (and young at heart), lanterns hanging on the shop awnings and people laughing, strolling, chatting, enjoying...  We had lots of fun and saw Nikki McClure and her beautiful exhibit.  If we had money for such things I would buy some original Nikki McClure art and something from Marvin Oliver.  We do have an incredible mask T carved with handmade tools, all made under Oliver's tutelage.  That's as close as we're going to get now.  That and my new book, Collect Raindrops, which is absolutely fantastic.  You can sit with it for just a few moments and feel every season is full of magic.  Everyone should buy it.

The family birthday train officially left the station; we chug on through family members all fall now 'til we hit holiday gift giving.  Yes, I do have a train-obsessed little guy seeping into my words.  Anyhow, I now own several new, coveted books.  I really absolutely love all three new treasures.  The Tassajara Bread Book is my mom's all-time favorite baking book.  Her copy (the first edition) is well-used with curled edges, flour sprinkles and water marks (all signs of a well-loved cookbook).  'The Big Book of Needlecraft' makes me feel I could whip out a dress design in the blink of an eye.  Everything I could ever want to learn about sewing is in there.  I think it's from the late '40's though research on the internet seems to indicate the '30's.  Perhaps it's a newer edition.

The other day I realized we consistently have at least fifty items checked out from the library.  We visit every week so there are always tons of new and inspiring reads in the house.  Sometimes, though, it's wonderful to have books come to live with us.

Send your flu-be-gone thoughts our way, please?! 

A culture of creativity

I saw this post on earthchicknits about how people develop a culture of creativity with children.  It's such a good question.  How do you create a family life that nurtures the imagination and supports freedom to explore?  Our ingredients:

Deep down I believe that consistency/pattern/ritual and boundaries foster creativity.  You needn't feel anxious about details when you can predict; it reduces anxiety and opens your mind up to bigger things. 

I also really feel time is of an essence.  Time to wander, explore, dream, build.  Time to let your passions in one moment take you to the wonder of the next.  Time without media, without people telling you what to do.  Organized everything is the big thing these days in childhood.  The idea of preparing children for the inevitability of fitting in later seems ridiculous to me somehow.  Preparing them for a big schedule, a long day at school, adult structure, rules... I think this will come when it needs to, if it needs to.

You need to feel support.  Guidance with little steps close at hand, when needed.  Part of support is wanting to know others care when you feel success.  "I love your picture" doesn't do nearly as much as "I like how you mixed the oranges and reds together;" a detailed "notice."  Or, often: thumbs up, a knowing smile, a silent cheer from twinkling eyes.  When what we do matters, it's often important to us to know someone else thinks so too. 

Time outside every day. 

Access to tools and raw material for your baking, drawing, painting, building, wiggling, writing, thinking... For your creating dreams.

Value placed on active pursuit of joy and different ideas.

I think those are my personal essentials and what we try to create here for our boy.  Perhaps they're a little obtuse.  We are always engaged in (and modeling deep enjoyment of) creative arts through writing, graphic design, sewing... I think a creative life is what the boy knows and that makes me very happy.

Fall(ing)

The sun has not lingered this year.  Fall swooped in with torrents of rain, lightening and darkness.  The boy and I tuck summer away and create impromptu mantels and ledges and clothesline drawings to welcome the season.  The other day we: saved our shed items from a rain flood, found nooks and crannies for summer shorts and tees to hide for a few years, cleaned and packed away most of the outdoor toys (bringing out new-old, rain-worthy items to substitute), baked a bunch, bought some little pumpkins to scatter (and NOT throw!) and we also opened up the October tub.  All of the various bottles of bubbles, sunscreen and bug repellent are on the shelves inside now.

The October tub is full of everything you need to teach first grade in this month of apples, pumpkins, Halloween and learning to read.  Here are a few fall books from the tub, appropriate for the younger set:  Picking Apples & Pumpkins (Hutchings), Autumn is for Apples (Knudsen), Fall Changes (Senisi), The Runaway Pumpkin (Lewis), Too Many Pumpkins (White-- long, but you can shorten and it's fun), Pumpkin Day & Pumpkin Night (Rockwell), Pumpkin Circle (Levenson), Pumpkin, Pumpkin (Titherington), Pumpkin Moonshine (Tudor), Apples & Pumpkins (Rockwell), It's Fall (Glaser).  We're really enjoying them all!

I suppose we are falling into the new season, fighting to embrace it despite the dreariness this year (Well that's just me.... The boy is game for anything).  It helps that (after waiting patiently for so very, very long) Nana and Grandpa's pumpkins were ripe for the picking.

Walk through the orchard, run to the pumpkins with a squeal, grab grass to wipe the dirt, attempt to hold bounty half your size.  Pick some apples too.  It's (most definitely) Fall.

How to make a chalk cloth mat

How could I have left out the inspiration for that apron in yesterday's post?  Joanna's beautiful gift was so perfect when my sister and I tried to sell at the street fair.  Since Trina sells her beautiful jewelry at a market, I thought it would work well for her and I'm loving the patchwork approach these days.  It's a good way to "quilt" without the time commitment!  Phew.  I woke up in the middle of the night and, among other thoughts, realized I hadn't written all of that yesterday!

The first grader in our dinner bunch on Sunday received a chalk cloth mat.  These are such wonderful gifts for kids in a huge range of ages and though I don't have a good picture, you can sort-of see here how I do them:

1. Prepare a contrasting pocket big enough to hold your chalk.
2. Sew this on the backing fabric in the lower right corner.
3. Prepare long ties (I used bias tape but I've used ribbon before too).
4. Fold the backing fabric in half lengthwise; in the middle of this folded half side place
the ties with long part of the ties under the backing fabric.
5. Make a sandwich with the right side of your backing fabric facing the right side of the chalk cloth (ties in between).
6. Sew all around like a place mat, leaving a turning hole.
7. Turn, poke the corners out with a chopstick or other turning tool, iron (careful not to iron directly on the chalk cloth or it'll melt, melt, melt) and then stitch all round the chalk cloth mat. 

You can also give them a binding, etc.  A lot of people sell them with oilcloth on the back but I don't care for the resulting bulk (though a vinyl fabric isn't bad).  To give/store you fold in half lengthwise, pop the chalk in, roll and tie.  Ta da!

One big, long, fabric weekend

This was my weekend o' fabric.  Kristin and Lauren picked me up on their way to the Northwest Fabric & Notions Show.  I was able to see Kristin in action, buying the next big fabrics.  There was fabric everywhere.  Hanging, laying, swimming...  Well, not swimming.  But people were draping it over their arms, walking around with swatches, thumbing through books with prints of the next fabrics (surely in production around the world, waiting for their big release and my sewing machine).  I fell in love numerous times and created quite a few beautiful pieces in my mind throughout the afternoon!  Early 2008 is going to hurt our collective pocketbook, Sewing Friends.  There was a lot to see, and some of my favorite fabric designers haven't yet released their (eagerly awaited) newest lines! 

So I came home from the show and sewed until 3:30 a.m.

Then, yesterday, my cousins came to visit.  We are some sort of cousins but, though Grandma has likely told me the "step" relation many times, I'm never sure if it's second, third or whatever.  Just cousins, I'd say.  It's so much fun to hang out as adults, with kids of our own running around.  And Trina, who has a beautiful way with jewelry, brought two gigantic tubs of fabric for me.  Gigantic.  I'm a little speechless.  The ideas are swimming (there we go with the swimming again).  In a quite inadequate effort to "exchange" a bit I made her a peg apron for when she does her market stall.  I tried to incorporate some of the color I know she likes but I'm afraid I missed the mark a bit.  It does include one of my favorite vintage flour sack fabrics (the greenish with circles) and I also used a little Kaffe Fassett Paperweight which I've long-loved (oh, and that raindrop stripe...  Love that raindrop stripe).  So, anyway, the effort was there but I'll be sewing some more in a desperate attempt to somehow thank them for their wonderful generosity. 

Hurray for the best fabric shops with fantastic owners (Kristin's eye is impeccable) and cousins bearing tubs of cloth and good conversation.