Oh, California... I know I came from you, but the longer I am away the stranger you become. Your people seem to not even notice the tree robots that watch them from alongside your many freeways. Who started the rumor that they were cell phone transmitters? Maybe the trees suggested it through their mind altering radio waves. How else would they believe that a palm tree and a pine tree could live happily so close together?
Monday, May 28, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
girlie girl dress
so, the photo is a little obscure (I call it "self-portrait and hip, and by the way that is just a shadow on my armpit") but I had to show off the cute dress I made. It's a blending of two of my favorite designers, Heather Ross (fabric) and Aimee Dolby of Betsy Ross Patterns ("girlie girl" dress pattern)
It's like we're all hanging out together... sort of
It's like we're all hanging out together... sort of
show & tell... button of the week
I really love these guys. They are Bakelite and HUGE.
When I first started collecting buttons about 18 years ago (geeze, that sounds like a long time!) I wanted them to make jewelry out of. But after the first few that I destroyed by removing the shanks and gluing them together to make a brooch or something, I had to stop. I felt like they weren't meant to be anything other than what they already are. And they all have a story.
I imagine these two, on some great slubby wool swing coat, braving any weather for the adventures of their coat's owner in c. 1964. (picture Marlo Thomas or Audry Hepburn in big plastic sunglasses and boots made for walkin')
When I first started collecting buttons about 18 years ago (geeze, that sounds like a long time!) I wanted them to make jewelry out of. But after the first few that I destroyed by removing the shanks and gluing them together to make a brooch or something, I had to stop. I felt like they weren't meant to be anything other than what they already are. And they all have a story.
I imagine these two, on some great slubby wool swing coat, braving any weather for the adventures of their coat's owner in c. 1964. (picture Marlo Thomas or Audry Hepburn in big plastic sunglasses and boots made for walkin')
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
deep sigh...
Hope Wallace, will you be my friend? Or maybe you can just come over and cover the walls of my apartment with your magic...
Monday, May 14, 2007
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Happy Mother's Day
a page from a sweet little book I found from 1939 that seems very well loved. I imagine that many little chickadees were read to sleep by their mommas, heavy eyelids trying to stay open for their favorite bird...
to the women who tuck in, wipe up, kiss all-better and show their "cunning brood exactly where to look for food"... thank you for the world that your nurtured children will impact.
xoxo
Friday, May 11, 2007
twinkies
Wednesday, May 9, 2007
a few of my favorite things...
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
show & tell... button of the week
okay, okay... so I couldn't pick just one. But they are sort of a set.
I went to Europe all by myself as a crazy 22 year-old (I'll never tell how long ago that was) and was trying to travel light, since my backpack already weighed more than I did.
Among the few purchases that I could justify as more than worth their weight were these lovely buttons. I picked them up from a sweet little old lady at a flea market in Cambridge, just before having my first taste of cider at a local pub. For those of you who think that cider is a nice, refreshing apple juice, perfect for guzzling on a hot day... I learned the hard way this is not so. But I digress...
the neverending quilt
It's just like me to take on an endeavor that may never be finished... but it's all about the process, right?
This is the quilt that I have been making for my dad for going on three years. But the longer it takes, the more of a gift it is. So far it has been 3 Christmas presents, 3 birthday presents, Father's Day and a wedding gift.
Unfortunately, I'm getting a little attached to it myself...
what's your favorite color?
Whippoorwills call, evenin' is nigh
Hurry to my Blue Heaven
Turn to the right, there's a little white light
Will lead you to my Blue Heaven
You'll see a smilin' face, a fireplace, a cozy room
Little nest that nestles where the roses bloom
Molly and me, and the baby makes three
We're happy in my, in my Blue Heaven
You're gonna see a smilin' face, fireplace, cozy room
And a little nest nestled where the roses bloom
Just Molly and me, and the baby is three
We're so happy in my Blue Heaven
We're happy in my Blue Heaven
We're happy in my Blue Heaven!
Thursday, May 3, 2007
"what's a selvage?", you ask
every stitch a loving thought
Dar was my maternal great-grandma. Her given name was Grace (which she always thought was "silly") but for some unknown reason an aunt started calling her Dar as a child and it stuck.
Picture a mixture of Lucille Ball, Martha Stewart and Mother Theresa. And since I only knew her from the perspective of an adoring little girl who soaked up every ounce of nurturing I could get, she became the roll model of my heart and hands. She was my idea of perfection. Sometimes I even think that there is such a thing as genetic memory, like the first time I smelled lilacs wasn't the first time.
But I digress. Dar was a seamstress, a knitter, a cook, a baker, a gardener, a story teller, a back rubber, a boo boo kisser and a total nut. But her greatest talent was her ability to make each of us great-grandchildren feel like her favorite at some point. Of course, I always knew the truth... but I would never tell the others for fear of hurting their feelings.
For a long time as a young woman I had a hard time trying to live up to her image, wanting to be her. But then I realized that the things about her that were in me were gifts, not burdens, and that I would do my best to be a woman that she would want to knit with or laugh with rather than trying to duplicate her (as if anyone could). I do, however, copy one thing that she always did... I stitch a little xoxo onto the edge of anything I make for someone I love. And I really believe in what she taught me... "every stitch a loving thought".
Picture a mixture of Lucille Ball, Martha Stewart and Mother Theresa. And since I only knew her from the perspective of an adoring little girl who soaked up every ounce of nurturing I could get, she became the roll model of my heart and hands. She was my idea of perfection. Sometimes I even think that there is such a thing as genetic memory, like the first time I smelled lilacs wasn't the first time.
But I digress. Dar was a seamstress, a knitter, a cook, a baker, a gardener, a story teller, a back rubber, a boo boo kisser and a total nut. But her greatest talent was her ability to make each of us great-grandchildren feel like her favorite at some point. Of course, I always knew the truth... but I would never tell the others for fear of hurting their feelings.
For a long time as a young woman I had a hard time trying to live up to her image, wanting to be her. But then I realized that the things about her that were in me were gifts, not burdens, and that I would do my best to be a woman that she would want to knit with or laugh with rather than trying to duplicate her (as if anyone could). I do, however, copy one thing that she always did... I stitch a little xoxo onto the edge of anything I make for someone I love. And I really believe in what she taught me... "every stitch a loving thought".
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