all buttoned up.

Coming Down

What is that colour?!!?  Whatever it is, it's my new best friend. 

I have been posting at Habit since the 30th.  Molly and Emily have created a beautiful space that they are generously sharing with myself and others.    

Our mac keyboard took a little bath this week, leaving two-thirds of the keys non-functional.  It makes google searching a bit of an adventure.  We have an older PC laptop so I upload photos on the mac and then tandem type into little chuggachugga here.  Posting has become more like a chore than I'd like,  so, "Going to Apple store" just got bumped up to the top of the list.  While I'm there I should probably check into getting a new mouse.  Augs has made it his mission to chew clear through it when I'm not looking. 

We are a classy bunch. 

I am planning on spending a good part of the day outside tomorrow.  I hope you have a good, great Monday. 

Yes, sorry-- they are ranunculus... I always think to plant them and then never do.

It's Not Me, It's You.

I want to write about how much I appreciate how much you all have taught, shared and given to me the last few years.  I learn something every single day and it's largely because I turn on the computer and read about what you're doing and learning and making.  It's not just all the info-- it's, you know, the friendship and the talking, emailing and laughing that happens because of all of this.  I am SO grateful.  Big hugs all around.  Thank you. 

I am not going anywhere!!  I just wanted you to know.  I don't think I say it enough. 

This post might as well be called "I'm A Hack", since the shirt I'm showing you is pretty much exactly the same as another Melissa refashioned, complete with the buttons running down the back.  I used the same simplicity pattern for that blue freezer paper stenciled one and a men's XL shirt I got at the Goodwill bins.  You really can't beat the feel of slightly used, super soft shirting fabric for a good summer top.  The armholes are too big-- that's kind of a bummer, but whatever!  It's a 75 cent shirt. 

You are good people. 

Good Good.

THAT was a good weekend.  Phew.  It was so nice to hang out with sweet people, eat good food, spend time with and (maybe more importantly) without my boys.  We even fit in a trip to Seattle for lunch.  Please come again, Hannah.  You can bring your peeps next time!  Maybe we'll have the basement finished and it will be like summer camp with all the kids.
 

Hannah let me tag along to see everyone and I've got to say that there's no sweeter deal than happy meet-ups over food or shopping or both at the same time.

There is also no sweeter deal than having friends who know that a 4 year-old meltdown will pass quickly and that babies (however cute) occasionally need to cry or spit up for no good reason. 

Thanks for running the show while she was gone, David.  We tried to take good care of her.

The Red Mill

We went to Bob's Red Mill the other day.  It's pretty nice.  I wish it wasn't such a trek out there.  They have a sign up by the dining room that says something like "Your kind words are more than enough-- tipping is unnecessary", and while I find that suspect the rest of our time there seemed genuine and heartfelt. 

 

Plus, Bob himself was there having a snack upstairs in the mezzanine.  Sam made sure everyone knew about it, too-- "Mom.  Look!!!  It's OLD RED BOB eating wunch up derr".  That's what you get for putting your face on our bag of flour.

They have a very sweet test/class kitchen there as well.

Other places:

**Bolt is having their semi-annual sale this Friday, Saturday and Sunday.  All fabric is marked down from 10-50%.  They have a good number of Japanese imports these days as well as a whole freaking bin of Liberty that makes me a little ill (in a good way) every time I see it.

**Tracy and Samantha are back to posting on Two Green Chickens.  Also, check out Tracy's new Modern Shed progress.  I have big plans for our next house (hah!)  which include one of these.

**Portland representing: I like Carrie Brownstein's blog, Monitor Mix so much.  Ketzel Levine's Gardening Blog is really good, too.  She actually lives down the street from us and I wonder if she ever walks by our yard and thinks, "Oh those poor people, making such silly decisions". 

We are due a beautiful weekend over here-- hopefully I'll be able to get outside and right some of those silly choices.

   
 

japan addict

Oh, Blog.  I must be getting back on track with you.  The picture is from Hannah.  The rain has returned here and I'm kind of nesting which means I'm SEWING more than cleaning, but cleaning a little bit too... you know how it is.  You don't think there are any fly poops on the windowsills until you start to look for them.  I get so stoked for Christmas from right about now until the first week of December.  Then I get much less excited.  I should really do something about that, but it's a hard pattern to break and I think my family has come to expect my slightly cynical and general moodiness around the end of the year.  I wouldn't want to disappoint them completely.  Hah!

Mariko tipped me off to this site recently and I have been digging through the archives like a crazy person.  It's a collective blog written in French (which I'm having an easier time reading than the actual web translation.  I hate being mono-lingual) by fans of Japanese sewing books.  If you've ever wondered how Japanese Craft book patterns translate on real people, this is such a good resource.  If you're lucky enough to have a Kinokuniya bookstore nearby, this will probably not help the whole "look but don't buy" thing.  There are some seriously good sewers that post over here, and most of the clothing that is being made is also being modeled so you know they aren't messing around.  The left column is full of books, and the posts usually reference the original picture too, so it's very helpful.  Crazy FOR THIS. 

Sam is eating oatmeal for dinner.  I just had a mini coffee crisp bar and am making tea-- that should do it for the night.  I am missing our friends.  There have been people moving away from us this year (well, not from us exactly, but away) and when we left the Midwest seven years ago we were the ones leaving and after all this time I still miss being there with everyone (even though a lot of them have left too).  And then of course there are the friends that live far that have always lived far and that is how it's going to stay...  Anyway.  On top of the fact that Portland is a great town, I'm an ever lovin' fool for the friends we've made here, too, and I feel lucky lucky and really happy about that at the end of this sort of crappy day. 

Good lord, Typepad needs a grammar check. 

The Gift of Time (also accepting cash)

We're all turned around in this house.  Paul had yesterday off (again!  4 days in two weeks!!) so he packed Sam off to see the Fire Fighting men at the Children's Museum and I packed it off the wilds of Suburbia with Sally  where I got lost in the mall and fell prey to a real-life Sephora.  I'm turning 30, you know.  It's high time I get myself some makeup.  It was a beautiful day.  Family time is so freaking precious-- that goes for time with friends, too. I don't want to get all sappy, but I feel everything lightening with a good dose of both. 

And then Good Mail?  That just makes it all the sweeter.  I received some from both Blair  and Megan on the same day.  Lucky Ducky.   This is beautiful appliqued wool pillow made by miss Blair's own hand.  It is triggering a much needed bedroom redo.  (Or maybe just a "do"?  We've never really done it.)  I love it.  Thank you, Friend... it is so good.

I harassed Megan for some indigenous mags.  She obliged and included some Kristin Doran owl fabric and one of her photos (which is waiting patiently for a permanent home).  I machine appliqued an owl patch onto a new pillow cover for the kitchen/playroom or from now on-- the "birdie room", as it's sitting under a my new Camilla print-- all framed and hung. 

Man, mailorder  arrived, I get to say goodbye to 20something this week, and my friend Trish gets here on Saturday.  Good times, People, good times. 

 

i see me.

"Jesus loves you just the way the you are
and he loves you too much to let you stay that way"
(Amy Adams, Junebug)

I don't think we're going to leave the house today. It's the blustery sort of rain that is best experienced indoors. We rented Junebug last night and despite all the air mattress sex, I loved it so much. I think Paul and I loved it equally. Lost in Translation was like that (or maybe I just like to think so), and so was The Royal Tenenbaums. All the others get tipped one way or another on the scales most often landing in the "he humoured me" territory, or my "that was the worst ever why are you laughing so hard?" land. But Junebug, you are so good.

Susan was over yesterday and she comes from that part of the world and she loves the movie too, so I felt pretty good going into it. Susan Beal is a good time girl. I've known her for nearly as long as I've lived in Portland. And if you don't read her blog yet, you've probably seen her name published in Venus or Adorn or CRAFT or maybe you've read her book...? Yeah, she's good like that. We were lucky to spend the afternoon hanging out and she was lucky enough to witness a nap-less Sam spiral into a crazy drunk-like fatigue. She's been rocking out in LA the last couple of years, but I'm going to go ahead and say that Portland would like her back. Please.

Oh! And hello, Adorn-- did you see me in there? I was looking pretty good, so I almost didn't recognize me (you probably won't either). That is, until I saw the ridiculous expression on my face... You would've seen a picture of Sally and Sumi too, if they hadn't been hiding behind a shelf. They're running a 10 dollar subscription special that I'm going to jump on. It will be one more reason to never leave the house.

studio CRAFT

Did you come yesterday?  Thank you!  If you weren't here in person I certainly felt you in spirit.  Truly.  Thank you for all the encouragement these last weeks-- the day really couldn't have been better. If you were here I hope you felt welcome and that it was as you had hoped.  And for the rest of you far and wide, I have a feeling you will reap the benefits of all the making very very soon.  Seriously.  Everyone worked so hard and made so much that there are still great things to go around.

Within an hour of everyone's departure I was in my pajamas under a blanket on the couch.  I sat and watched Rick Steves/Public Television's pledge drive Christmas special and cried as much for relief that it was over as for happiness that it had come off so well.  Oh you Sweet People, Thank You Again.

Lisa  said something yesterday resonated so clearly with me-- we were talking about the weather (which has been downright blustery) and she said that she's always ready for the season change-- that she needs that.  And I couldn't agree more.  I've always felt sort of bad for thinking that that way.  Every three months I'm itching for the next big change and then embracing it like it was my new best friend.  I'll love you forever Fall, or at least until I start jonesin' for the barren gray of Winter.  Oh Winter I love you, but SPRING!  SPRING!  Will you marry me?!!  So anyway.  I'm not totally feeling Christmas yet, but it's coming.  Maybe after I sort out where I managed to stuff everything away. 

a house story, etc.

We bought our house almost exactly four years ago from a woman named Claudia.   There were lots of reason she had let things go, not least of which was probably an undiagnosed mental illness.  At the time we had been unsuccessfully bidding on houses-- 10 bids in three months, all of them going way beyond (some as much as 20%) asking price in the end.   We were both making very little money but were determined to get in a house IN our neighborhood, CLOSE to people that we knew, NOT next to open-air drug activity.   Claudia had found herself in an impossible situation with the house, and needed to let it go quickly and quietly.  We were the first people in the door.  We held our noses, pet the cats, and 30 minutes later we shook on it. 

The process would get a little ugly (and really, the house was a freaking pit) but we were ecstatic to have something like this-- bigger than what we had hoped and in a part of the neighborhood we were sure we couldn't afford.  It was fall.  The leaves were changing. 

Four years later I am still ecstatic to be in this house.   It has been difficult.  Frustrating.  When Paul started school (again) last year we agreed to lose the deadlines for finishing things.  The last few months I've started to get a little mad-- started to freak out and think that even if we did fix something, it wouldn't be right.  It wouldn't be perfect.  Well, this is crazy talk, and while I was sitting here worrying that IF it got done, it MIGHT not be right, I realized that it was all staying very much WRONG. 

We could cover up the exposed insulation.  We have a caulking gun.  I love that caulking gun.  There is so much paint sitting in the basement unused, surely there is something I could figure out.  Then came a new set of deadlines-- the kind I like, involving people that I love.  House guests.  Folks who have stayed with us over the years and put up with camping in the living room, doing dishes in the tub, and bathing with water that shot straight out of a tube in the wall.  They have thankfully stopped asking us if we are "done", but wouldn't it be so great to have something new to show them?  Especially my dad, who hasn't been here since Spring and who has helped us through most of the major reno-- the initial demo, jacking up and reinforcing the foundation, leveling the yard, the plumbing...  So we got started again, and I'm happy to say that things are moving along swimmingly.  I am making decisions!  I am using what we have!  I am happy with the outcome!

(Some of you expressed sadness over the loss of the green-- a colour I still really like.  But I'm working in a little space and I have a hard time keeping that space clean and holy cow does it help having it a bit calmer in here.   You'll be happy to know the purple stairwell is staying.) 

It is fall.  And the leaves are changing.  (And somewhere it is Spring-- right Megan?)  Good things are happening all 'round. 

Alicia and Andy spent some time with us the other night.   I hope we can do that more often.    We are big big fans of those two.  Andy, Paul says you can come over and eat, watch "the guys", and call me Stephanie any night of the week.

We're mostly better (thank you Christina, I hope your soup offer is a standing one :) but our dear, old computer has some sort of disease and I'm not sure how we're going to work it out.  It may mean very little blogging for the time being.  This is maddening on lots of levels and we're trying to come to a wise decision about the whole business.  IN THE MEANTIME, Sally has some great save-the-date sort of news coming in the next couple of days that I'm really happy about.  AND in any blogging absence you can be assured that I'm going to have all kinds of crap to share when I get back.  That's a promise.   

Here's a parting shot of the sort of kitchen we bought into with this house, and then lived with for a good while.  Sadly, you can't see the big holes in the ceiling or the water stains down the walls... You can, however, see a bit of my thumb. 

When Good Times Come to Town.

The Viking-- Miles. 

I feel as though I've been running my mouth for the last few days.  Now when I sit down to post I'm struggling a bit with how to type it all out.  Edit.  Retype.  Cut it down some more.  And like most times when things are great and buzzing along I forget that I should be recording things by camera. 

by Mia. 

So.  It's been a wonderful two days.  We were expecting Tracy and family on Friday night and I spent the latter half of the week (among other things) preparing for their arrival.  I had such a good sense about their coming-- no hesitation, no anxiety, just the kind of anticipation where you just *know* it will be good.  And it was.  No surprises.  We had dinner together with Stephanie and her family, and Sally and little J, outside under our tree on a wrinkly table cloth listening to our kids play together and separately (but most importantly HAPPILY).  Nobody wants to hear me gush (least of all me), because it's clear that these are good and kind people that are easy to be with.  Today when I met them at the street fair the kids were so JOYFUL I thought my head would burst with good feelings.  While walking around an empty house today Paul said wistfully, "they're just real nice people".

By E. 

It is so nice to be with the spouses-- I find myself reveling in the way people love and admire the ones they've been with for a long time.  Our husbands are unabashedly proud of the things we do, and of course they get along-- again, no surprises.  I'm also a little taken back thinking about the way that we trust each other... I'm consistently awed and humbled at the willingness of bloggers to share bits of their lives with so many.  And I know that there is a lot of editing and colouring and occasionally a bit of etiquette-gone-wrong, but there is so much that is real and bursting with life even in our everyday.  Whether it be dinner together, emails back and forth between new friends, or chance meetings at the fabric/garden/grocery store, I'm sitting here feeling so honoured that really great women trust enough to share the whole (or at least a bigger) picture of who they are with my family and I.  And, well, just because Portland is home to lots of great bloggers doesn't mean that we roam around trying to meet each other-- I think in some ways it's be harder knowing that you're not just typing away into the great wide out there... There are people around who recognize your kid's blue eyes and chubby legs. 

So. Thank you.  Again and again.