all buttoned up.

Brought to you by the letter "P". P-p-p-Paul.

This little number is (hopefully) winging its way over to SE and Larissa so she can get it into Cafe au Play  auction on Saturday night.  The bottom makes me think hard candy and that song "Big Rock Candy Mountain" (totally inappropriate, I know). 

Sally and I put our heads together for a little while on Saturday and listed out duties for the upcoming week.  Let me say again how a little encouragement from a friend can go a long long way to overall health and well-being.  I started out Friday night having one of my Greek Exegesis dreams-- it's this reoccurring homework/anxiety scenario where I need to come up with a semester's worth of papers overnight.  It has several incarnations, each scarier than the last (one of which involves gym class, a failure to drop, and an endless photocopier sequence), and they all stay with me the next day.  Anyway, after our visit on Saturday, all that dropped away and I got down to the business of making.

(Fabric boxes for studio Craft)

The house is a freaking disaster, I haven't cooked anything in two days, Sam's in heaven because his dad has been in charge, and OH BABY did I get some work done.   There are couple of things that I still want to try and finish this week.  Some quilted mats.  A few ornaments.  But this house is not going to de-crap itself.  I'm aided by a lack of enthusiasm for Halloween (Sam doesn't really get it yet-- we'll probably just go to the mall), and most importantly, an amazing partner who has been painting walls, moving furniture, and being the Main Man Most in Love with our Son.

'Course, now it's Monday so I'm back on the clock with all that.  Better go... the boss wants Oh's with Milk in a Big Bowl. 

(*** Just in case you're in the mood for some really great television, this week Public Broadcasting is airing and amazing Independent Lens about the Sesame St Workshop.   Regardless of your take on kids and TV, it's worth the watching.)

 

Heat Set Steam

When I was in Tennessee a few weeks ago I spent an inordinate amount of time ironing.  Hours and hours.  It was the sort of job that needed to be done by someone who had nothing better to do.  Someone like me.

This week has been good but so unsettling.  The World at Large feels like it's creeping closer to the teeny tiny one I've got going in my little house.   I've spent the week cleaning out, rearranging, fussing, and sputtering and getting nearly nothing done.  So.  Today I set out to iron.  Something mindless and calming.  Something that keeps me engaged but working.  Something I'm REALLY BAD AT. 

Oh my.  Really.  Maybe it's my iron?  No.  Just me.  Ridiculous really.  I couldn't tell until I started taking pictures of things to upload to flickr.  Those poor wrinkly people in Tennessee.  Seriously.  Good thing it was mostly tablecloths and slipcovers, because Lord Have Mercy, I stink. 

Anyway.  Aprons.  I had a couple in college, but then hit the mother lode when I was cleaning out my Grandma's house.  I'm sure they were gifts given to her.  My Nana and Papa lived in Africa for 35 years and I can't imagine her sweeping out her concrete and dirt floor wearing something starched and lacy.  But I could be wrong.  Some were found thrifting or at estate sales, and I sometimes get them as gifts-- now that my family knows how much I like them.  I wait tables and wash dishes on the weekends and so some of them have seen better days in my own house. 

Tomorrow night we're having dinner for some of our peeps-- they would fall over laughing if they knew I had actually pressed out their napkins.  Ah well... it made me feel better. 

wee apron.

We went to the Children's Museum yesterday to visit 'ELAAAMO!" and play in the blue pit with all the cars and shovels.  Sadly, they have removed all the digger trucks and Sam got fed up immediately and began behaving badly with the other children (placing your shoed foot onto the wrist of a happy little girl in order to remove the shovel from her hand does not constitute ASKING).  The removal of the trucks is sad because we've been known to spend MORE THAN AN HOUR quietly digging in the corner and not bothering anybody or their mum. 

On our way home we decided to take our friends on a happy little thrifting detour (actually it was a happy HUGE detour).  Three dollars and ten minutes after arriving, we left with this little smock.  It's similar to the ones I made as Christmas gifts, except this is smaller, sweeter, and the hand work is so well done (hand-stitched button holes?!!).  Sam's almost too big for it, but don't think that's going to stop me.  We're planning a run to the Bins today... I get really anxious going there, like somehow I'm missing out on things by not being there all the time-- or by not lining up to get a look at the new stuff.  All crazy-talk flying in the face of our need to simplify. 

For now I'm content to marvel at its three pockets, uneven ties, and belly darts.