Boys who make me hope

This sounds awfully old-fashioned of me to say but kids these days don't have any respect. They push past me on the MAX or make a mess of the fitting room at Anthro or rush ahead of you through an open door. It makes a parent like me (all 27 years of me) think there is no hope for this next generation. And I have boys, who have such a legacy and societal minefield where respect is concerned. But then I read things like this. And it makes me have hope. Even though I screamed back at Finn today when he refused to take a nap, he could grow into a caring, respectful human being.

And I am busy at work decorating the house for Christmas. James and I bickered our way through the Christmas lights on the house debaucle but it was accomplished. I made a wreath for the front door that promptly hung askew and then fell to the ground the first time I shut the door. And the boys can barely restrain themselves from picking at the tree and all its trimming. But it's Christmas time and I love Christmas time. Even more now that the boys are getting old enough to hear the story and appreciate the magic.

Calling the Pot Orange

I seem to have struck some sort of job-search gold. Since applying for and interviewing for the admissions position with Le Cordon Bleu, I have sought out other admissions positions and gotten really miraculous response. I think my recruiting experience makes my resume stand out, which is ever-so-nice when I haven't been standing out much at all in this job world. Today I searched through Indeed.com and applied for every admissions position they had posted and got called an hour later for an interview tomorrow evening. So hurray!

Now I am sitting listening to Mason Jennings in the sunlight that streams through our cold front window in lovely rainbows from the etched glass. It is quiet. The boys went to the park with Carly. I feel calm and confident that this process is happening at the pace that it must, that is much slower than I would have it happen. But there are jobs. Which is a new reality I came close to missing altogether.

And I dyed fabric orange and serged it all together into a duvet cover for our room. It isn't quite what I had pictured but I have an inordinate amount of pride about it. I bought a dye-pot for heaven's sake, which means I have the ability to dye more things in the future and it was a success. Again, huge strides in giving me confidence in other parts of life. Here I am in all my glory.

It's the start of a new week today, a fresh breath, a world of possibilities. I hope it brings some news--about the Le Cordon Bleu job, about the other admissions position that I applied for, about babies about to be born, about plane tickets--but mostly I hope I am more patient. The boys have been driving me crazy this week. Finn is defiant and chatty and destructive and needs to be in timeout as much for his misbehaving as for my calm and Henry is in the difficult margin between communication and frustration. Because of all the other things happening to and around us and because I am not naturally a patient person, I am snappy and mean to both of them when they push the buttons they are so good at finding, which then makes me feel bad about myself for being a horrible parent and perpetuates the process of my short fused explosions.
My lack of patience this past week could also have something to do with the craft bazaar I did yesterday and prepared for all week leading up to yesterday, hand sewing ornaments and stockings and swearing violently at the constantly breaking needles on the serger and generally taking up most of the patience I have allotted for any given week. So the boys were really destined for failure.
So I've obviously been sewing a ton. I haven't uploaded the photos yet but for a first effort, it all went pretty well. But this time, the sewing hasn't been particularly therapeutic so I might have to give up sewing with deadlines for a while, for my family's sake.

Chicken Cordon Bleu

My interview this morning with Le Cordon Bleu Culinary Institute (formerly Western Culinary Institute) went extremely well. The man who interviewed me seemed ready to bring out the paperwork and have me start immediately. He gave me a tour, introduced me to staff and had me sample some pound cake with ganache from the advanced patisserie class. But then I met with the vice president of admissions, a very kind woman who admitted that they actually don't have a position open at this point. They are interviewing to be proactive and ready when they do need someone new but they don't know when that will be. I was very disappointed. I think she could tell. But she said she'd call. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a few months. crap.

You could look at it that I did all I could and got some great interviw practice and am closer to having a job than I was yesterday. But I have to admit I had been counting my chickens. And they were lovely chickens, Coq a vin chickens and chassuer chickens and fricassee chickens. Mostly chickens that represented income and benefits and some self-respect. So I'm going to keep looking and hope that they call. And in the mean time, I'm still planning the orange dye experiment, so there's that to look forward to.

new air

I am a new woman. This morning I got up with the boys and after drinking the last of the coffee walked to the coffee shop on the corner to get James a cup. The boys were sweet and adorable and made me feel like a wonderful mother. Finn asked the barista for some cockroach candy (gummy worms) and when she told him they were all out, looked so horror stricken I worried he might throw a tantrum right there. Instead he asked her if she would put it on the grocery list and then said maybe next time he could have some. I was so proud. And then I got a phone call on my way home explaining that I was actually still in the interview process with Western Culinary Institute and could I come in for an interview later this week. Yes I can, as a matter of fact; Yes I can. And my housemate offered to treat me to a haircut. Yes I would like to have a new haircut.

So I am feeling lovely and empowered. And I have been sewing these last few days, just not taking pictures, which makes me feel like not posting until I have taken the pictures and uploaded them to the computer and by that point, I've avoided posting for three days. But instead I will just tell you about my projects in that thousand words (or less) kind of way. Yesterday I ripped the cover from the arm chair I had found on the side of the road in Astoria and found the most amazing vintage hawaiian fabric underneath that matched both the cream covers on the other chairs and the gray I had just painted them all. I had been searching every fabric store in town to cover everything and now I am so glad I didn't find anything. The vintage mismatched but matching look is so much more what I was going for anyway. I also straightened a couple pairs of jeans that belled out at the bottom, very not Anthropologie this season and I've been wearing both pairs significantly more.

Today I am going to paint the guest room and redistribute the quilts in the house, getting everything ready for the holidays. Later I'm thinking about dying some fabric orange for a new duvet cover. I've never worked with dye before. We'll see. I'm feeling very optimistic.

Desperate Measures

I left three messages for the recruiter calling about an admissions adviser position with Western Culinary Institute and then stopped calling because I worried that I was sounding desperate and pathetic. Which I probably was because I sort of am. But calls about jobs get my hopes up. And of course with all the time between my voicemails, I've convinced myself that the job is perfect for me. Really any job sounds wonderful so my perspective may be a little off but seriously, a cooking school? I could have lunch at their test kitchen everyday and entertain the visiting professors from Le Cordon Bleu's french headquarters and inherit somone's Le Creusset cast iron cookware when they have to move overseas, and you know, learn all kinds of cool cooking sorts of things. So really, perfect.

So tonight I sewed myself a sweater dress out of a thrifted men's sweater that's been sitting around for a while. I look much thinner in person, you'll have to take my word on it and our camera seems to be jammed between lens open and lens shut and refuses to take pictures. (Finn may or may not have been playing with it when this jamming occurred.) So the pictures aren't great because James used the video camera instead. But you know, you get the idea. I feel ready to take on a ski lodge or a fishing trip if I can get over the neck being so dang itchy.

Some Success

No sewing yesterday or today but not as a lapse in therapy. Yesterday we had friends over for dinner and I made an absolutely beautiful pair of pizzas making up for any lack of creativity in clothing. I followed the elaborate recipes in my favorite cookbook From the Earth to the Table and made a spiced pork pizza with basil mint pesto and a red potato, onion and brie pizza that was less pretty to look at but equally delicious. I take no credit for their success other than my dedication to the recipes, which both had about ten more steps than any other pizza recipe I have ever seen.

Today, we drove to Madras to explore central Oregon and meet up with my father in law who is working on a fish cage project to get the salmon over the dam...yeah there's probably a better way to explain that. We drove to government camp and scaled the snowbanks in the beautiful shadow of Mount Hood and then got back in the car and drove the second half of the trip to Madras where we were entirely too early so drove around the bizarre back roads of the high desert. James kept making comments like, "the only way this road ends is us getting murdered and never found again" and "all these power lines must be giving us cancer". It was all worth it though when we found this absolutely breathtaking overlook point looking over a lake at the bottom of a canyon with Mount Hood in the background. The boys ran around and collected rocks making me irrationally nervous every time they got anywhere near the rock wall marking the drop off to the canyon. I took a zillion pictures. We met up with papa (James' dad) at the Black Bear Diner, which was exactly the way it sounds and had breakfast for dinner. So it was a great day.

Oh, and I got two calls about my resume, which is like a zillion calls compared to all the days before today. Who knows if they will materialize into anything but it feels very good to be acknowledged in the job search world, like the gods of employment have looked down and said, "well hello there kate, yes we see you there." So no sewing. But positive attitude.

a peek of lace

No emotional meltdowns or wild epiphanies today, just a lot of walking. We walked to Posie's cafe for music time this morning in the Kenton neighborhood, which seems really close when you've only ever driven there, not so much when you are convincing little kids that you are almost there. I kept saying things like, "Seriously isn't lombard like two streets up from rosa parks? This can't be right." So needless to say we rode the train home. The music was great and they were giving out free leftover halloween cupcakes so the boys pretty much loved it. And we found out that Mr. Ben (the guy who plays the music) teaches guitar lessons (starting with the ukulele) to kids age 3 and up, which Finn would love. Another thing to add to the list "things we will spend money on when we have money".


We got home for lunch and with time to spare so I could make myself a slip to wear to work. Another girl who works at Anthro has this amazing vintage slip that has pleated lace at the bottom, just long enough to peak out the bottom of most knee length skirts, so that was the idea for my slip. I had the stretch silk from an earlier pajama project and the lace came from the massive amounts of things I wasn't sure I would use but took from my grandma Weezie's house. It was already cut into long strips that I hemmed and serged to the silk and then topstitched to make it all lay flat. I wore a green dress over the whole thing so you couldn't see the green of the slip but I'm loving the color combination, the cream and the green are perfect for fall. If I can come up with a good top, I might actually wear it as a skirt. These are horrible pictures, I'm sorry to say. Next time I will photograph while I have the outfit still on.

Some sewing but mostly painting

We went to church this morning and I ended up all by myself up in the balcony, which basically feels like siberia. The boys went to nursery with varying levels of success (Finn ran in smiling and Henry clung to me screaming) and James worked security, yes security for the kids programs. He mostly just had to make sure everyone's stickers matched and help out where help was needed but I think it's funny that James' intimidation skills got us involved in the church. Anyways, because we were so on time for church for once, I had time to stop and get coffee, (which is amazing at our church really strong with real half and half) and they don't let you have coffee on the main floor of the church where it can spill and wreck everybody's bibles and coats so I went up to the balcony. It is strange to be in a church service by yourself when you aren't used to it and even stranger to find a completely unfamiliar perspective (literally) by sitting in a different part of the auditorium. I was more aware of how I must appear to my fellow worshipers and less inclined to participate (this could have been the siberian balcony feeling) and as some sort of emotional residue from last nights car crying episode I could barely keep myself from sobbing. I'm not sure what this crying thing is about. I am certainly not a crier, let alone twice in 18 hours. I'm open to the idea of some sort of spiritual awakening but I think I was just feeling so demoralized and all the language of being taken care of and saved in the worship music kinda swept me up. And I was by myself. So you know, I was weaker or something. Like I said I'm not sure what this is about.
But then we got home and I ditched all that emotion and got super productive. The boys went down for early rests thanks to daylight savings time and I cleaned the house, like washed rugs and the couch slipcover and all the glass ware on the dining room hutch kind of productive. I cleaned things I have never cleaned before and somehow this only took about 2 hours and the boys were still asleep. So I worked on some Christmas ornaments I'm making for a christmas craft fair at the high school where James' parents live. They are plastic ball pit balls with some sweater scraps serged in tubes and then hand sewn shut. I haven't exactly decided what else to do with them yet but I kind of like them as they are anyways.
Then after dinner, we all drove to Home Depot where I had to convince the two paint experts at the mixing counter that I did indeed only want one quart of semi-gloss for my dining room chair projects and promised that I would prep the chairs appropriately (I did nothing of the sort). I felt a little defensive walking out with my small can of paint and their judgment ringing in my ears. But then I came home and painted 7 chairs and only used up half the can. So ha home depot workers!

Halloween Bags

I was supposed to work tonight and because they have issues scheduling the right amount of hours to meet their goals in the quarter, my shift was cut, they called me, I didn't get the message so drove to work, parked my car, paid for parking and then turned around and drove home crying in the car for the whole frustration of it all. wanting to work so desperately and just really not knowing how to go about getting the work.

But the really good news is that I got home, all mascara-y and snotty while the boys were still asleep and sat on the teal chair in our living room while James searched Craigslist for the most ridiculous jobs to make me cheerier and then when the boys woke up I made breakfast for dinner, we decided to scrap the leapord costume for Finn and put together a cowboy costume to utilize the really lovely peach guitar we found at calvin's and we went trick or treating, which I would have missed out on if I'd worked. So you know, the good news. Oh and the whole point of this is to tell you that I sewed two little denim candy bags for the boys that took about 2 minutes to cut and serge together and looked much more adorable than the utility of the project would ever predict.

So I sewed and I ate a whole crap load of candy and I'm feeling better. (And I realize this whole post is made up of run-on sentences; it gets at the feeling the best)

So Everyday Sew

I've said this already so it seems a little unnecessary to lay it out but here goes anyways: I'm unemployed and discouraged by the job search process and the occupational prospects in Portland and I sew, which makes me feel better. So I am sewing everyday to have a sense of accomplishment and construction and process that can witness a trajectory where I have control, a thin metaphor for therapy. And I've set out to write about it here, with less regularity than I had originally pictured but with some chronicling of the accomplishment. I've been feeling particularly down lately. People around me are finding meaningful, lucrative work; the one job I have can't seem to muster the sales to need me very often; I'm having trouble sleeping; I have an extremely short fuse with my kids; you get the gist. So I am going to sew more, sew everyday as a more proactive therapy toward my emotional stability and self confidence, because it's the one thing I can do. So everyday sew.

Yesterday I completed a very simple project. The vintage square quilt on the back of my couch, the inspiration for the colors and textures of the whole room, was falling apart at the seams (wow the metaphors are too easy now). The people who plop down on the couch, pulling the quilt down into the seams, the occasional covering of the legs and feet (it's a small quilt and not particularly comfy), the kids driving trucks up and down the squares, have taken their toll on the hand-stitched seams between the squares. I have noticed this tearing for a while but finally brought the quilt downstairs and stitched up the seams, reinforcing where it came apart and repairing the holes. It's back on the couch and I am certain no one has noticed the change. But it's done and it needed to be done and that is an accomplishment. I feel more employable already.

Hipster Babies with strange shaped heads

The projects of my imagining

I've taken some time off from blogging--the summer off from this blog and about a year off from my other, original blog (eastcoker.blogspot.com)--for good, justifiable reasons related in some part to my extraordinary productivity in other arenas but mostly due to my good friends: procrastination and lacking motivation. I notice interesting things around me and work on projects that get finished with varying amounts of success but I don't seem to ever get them photographed before they get all covered in dirt (clothes for the boys) or before I don't like them as well as I did when they first flashed in my head as wonderful ideas (most everything else). If only I could take pictures of the ideas before the execution gets all in the way--the not quite right fabric, the too expensive notions left out, the bunchy hemline, the rippley zipper, the cockeyed seam or the entirely abandoned projects given up because they just didn't work--I would feel wildly successful. But the execution is the challenge, the reason I come back to it, the whole meaning for this blog.
And I have to admit, I don't really lose the excitement for the ideas that still flash. Right now I'm picturing two wingback chairs for the ends of the dining room table. They have high rounded sides and short raised arm rests that when you sit back from eating you have to sort of shrug your shoulders and twine your fingers at rib level (maybe resting on a full belly) to place your elbows on the charcoal (almost purple) velvet fabric of the chair's arms. I think that I can build these chairs with 2x4s and some plywood, some old comforters for padding, burlap scraps for webbing and some salvaged furniture feet. I just need a jigsaw. The original inspiration chair was actually a settee from the Bridgport Anthropologie covered in what seems like old feed bags with unconventionally shaped sides, sort of squared off, and those raised arm rests. I'm still open to the feed bag idea but I need a source. I don't think Joann stocks that sort of thing.
I'm also picturing a gigantic hydrangea wreath hung from a decorative knob installed at the top of our huge front door, the wreath partly obscuring the giant window in the door that gives a lighted diarama view of our front hall. The hydrangeas themselves will come from our next door neighbor, a single young man whose name I can't remember but who responded to my knock on his door asking to cut a few stems of the hydrangeas next to his garage with a very confused "Huh?" at which point I revised, asked if I could cut some flowers from his yard. He agreed and I knew with a spreading sense of satisfaction that he would never miss the hydrangeas, no matter how many I cut. The bright blue blooms of summer found their way onto our ledges and tables and now the lovely maroon flowers that have started to dry on the stems will make the wreath in my mind. The autumnal welcome to our home, the veil to our front door's candor.
And if I can get my hands on some birch branches, I foresee an indoor tree of sorts, a gathering of branches rooted in an urn in front of the fireplace, hung with lights and pinecones and maybe a cranberry garland to start us in the direction of christmas. It's beautiful in my mind. We'll see how it turns out.

Doors open

As I've become a bit more confident with my woodworking and sewing skills (not better mind you, just more confidant), I'm also less patient. I asked my housemate to find an outdoor table for our back deck but then promptly made my own. I knew she was having a hard time finding something affordable and I had this idea for a simple table base with an old door, which we had tucked behind our back stairs. And here is the result. The light blue paint with the aqua benches makes it a little easter egg-y but blue was what I had and I wanted to finish it before this weekend's house guests arrive. I'm thinking I might paint it the same creamy white as the door or maybe red? Not sure yet--it may see a few coats of paint before I decide.

The door as table top is not an entirely foolproof scheme because the panels of the door make for a bumpy surface. It seems that the ridges are about as equally spaced as plates should be though and our maiden meal went without a hitch or a spill. I also dressed up the old wood table (in the background) with some oilcloth and a collection of potted herbs that make the table seem intentional and somehow very better homes and gardens as if we must have our potting station looking lovely and symmetrical.



Oilcloth is really a lovely material, by the way--crisp and firm like paper but more durable and somehow much easier to cut. I found a blue green polka dot print and paired it with some blue gingham to dress up a string of Christmas lights for the outdoor dining arrangement. I cut circles with tiny slits in the centers to push the lights through thinking they might look like little sparkling flowers. They look more like lights with very straight collars--actually very Christmas eve service candle collar now that I think about it. I may try to bunch the circles with those tiny elastic bands people use for a very small amount of hair. I'll post more pictures if they improve.

Oh and the roses are from our front yard, really a miraculous thing--having a mature garden that you did nothing to create--Portland really is the Rose City for a reason. They're everywhere.

Chairs from the side of the road AFTER

Sanded, Painted and tightened up, the chairs are good as new. I found two tri fold futon mattresses with good quality foam at the local Salvation Army and cut them up into the three seat cushions and three back cushions and then covered them with vintage ticking stripe fabric. Considering I got the chairs for free, this project cost me a little more than I meant it to because the foam cost 20$ and the paint and fabric supplies cost another 20$. For two chairs and a chaise all made of wood, I know it's still a good price but I get a little stingy when it comes to free furniture.

Chairs from the side of the road BEFORE

Slightly blurry picture of the next pair of remade jeans for the oldest. I cut down the length of a pair of juniors jeans that, let's be honest, never really fit me anyway to the length of another pair that fit him well. Then I tucked the back waist line over and put elastic in it and took in the side seams , the crotch seams and a little bit between the two back pockets. The design of the jean lends itself well to smaller portions because the pockets on both the front and back were pretty small to begin with (the way juniors clothes are) and they had a low rise that fit perfectly on a three year old. Any lessons here about buying juniors clothing? Probably anything that can be made to fit a small child with relative ease, should not be worn by a mother of two.

This process did make me realize how much better the washes are for adult, especially women's jeans and how easy it is to make cute clothing for the boys from cheap thrift store buys. And when you aren't looking for jeans with the right fit, the thrift store world opens up exponentially. I made a pair of jeans from the remainder of the legs for the youngest but without the pockets and zipper, they seem a little more generic. I might try sewing on some details or making him a pair from the top of another pair of jeans.

And I will paint my chairs pink

I know pink is not everyone's favorite color. In fact, I know that the other three adults that live in my house would probably never buy a piece of pink furniture. But every once in a while, I just don't care.

My aunt gave me two bright yellow chairs with unfortunate plaid cushion covers when we first moved out to Oregon. I've kept them on hand as sturdy supplements to our benches and as the one adult chair in the kitchen full of high chairs. The color and pattern always sort of made me cringe though. So a couple weeks ago I found a hodge podge of paints left by the owners of our house and picked out a bright fuchsia and a brick red color and with a big can of white house paint mixed a lovely soft pink for the yellow chairs. I unscrewed the cushions and used an electric knife to cut the foam half way through the width making four total cushions and decreasing the height of each seat. After the paint dried I wove strips of burlap that I had serged around all the edges from front to back and then side to side. I stapled the strips in place and then removed the staples as I replaced them with upholstery tacks. I spent about 5$ from the cost of upholstery tacks, which only come in little plastic cases of 20 tacks each. What project would only require 20 tacks? None I know of.

After I finished the two yellow chairs, I repaired the chair I took from a dumpster in Astoria and used one of the extra foam seat covers and some spare lumber to finish the seat to match the other two. They turned out pretty adorably actually. And no one seems to mind that they are pink, or at least they haven't told me so.

lilac love

I just remembered the lilac bush at the top of the yard at the house I grew up in New Jersey. I walked by it every day on my way home from school, our three legged cat tracking me back from the bus stop. Lilacs--the look and smell of them--remind me of spring afternoons and the east coast and my younger self and backpacks and lovely things I can't quite name. So I like them. I like them so much I made a whole group of visiting relatives stop at the Woodland Lilac gardens to walk along paths draped with the heady blossoms of my childhood. And it was perfect. Minus those sunglasses, which looking back I will probably regret having worn in photographs.

Banners Away!

For James' Apple birthday (he got a new mac laptop) I decorated the house a la apple inspiration. This mostly involved about 20 pounds of granny smith apples in stacks and rows around the ground floor of the house. But I also threw this set of banners together at the last minute before guests arrived. And we all who live in the house liked it so much, it's still up. I purchased about 1 1/2 yards of fabric total for about 4$ and a spool of dollar ribbon and had way more fabric than I needed. In fact we could have festooned the whole house if I'd kept going, not just the dining room. The banner itself is far from perfect--I just ran the serger along the top edge of each triangle and along the edge of the ribbon. I had originally planned to surge all three edges of each triangle but time and guests in town kept it simple and the rough edges aren't noticeable. A blanket trim with the two folds might have made it smoother and more finished looking but that would have required my sewing machine work, which it doesn't. I don't think anyone has expectations when it comes to banners anyways.
Now I'm thinking about making a banner for our back deck with oilcloth so that it's weather proof and maybe with varying sizes of rectangles instead of triangles. We'll see.

TIme away

In an effort to bring in a bit more monthly income, while still staying at home full time, I got a part time job. I teach SAT prep classes and occasionally proctor practice tests. It's a great job. I make pretty good money to work about 6 hours a week and refresh my memory on all those annoying grammar rules and math equations that will come in handy when the boys get into junior high. I have four high school juniors in my class and I'm finding that I feel very emotionally connected to them--I would say maternal but that seems not quite it--I want them to do well and find the right school and enjoy their high school experience as much as I did. It's more a commeraderie with a not too distant past self. They are also really great kids who interact with me in class and ask questions when they have no idea what the crap I'm talking about, which I think I never had the self confidence to do, make myself vulnerable in front of a group of peers. So anyway, I like my job for its own value. But I also thrill in the time away from the house, away from the boys and from picking up toys and crumbs. I just stand in front of a class and talk and while I'm doing it, I have makeup on and clothes free of drool and pockets without trucks in them. It is exhilerating.

I know this is not a new feeling to a stay at home mom- enjoying time to herself or separate from the job that primarily defines her. But it inevitably makes me wonder if I should be the one working full time, because I enjoy it so much. It's not that I don't have moments where I thrill in being at home with the boys-I do. I took a nap yesterday afternoon and then walked to the park and painted a picture with the oldest for grammie for mother's day. It's a good life. But James says he can tell when I have a lot of projects on the burners, that I am content and energetic when I am sewing a number of things at once or refinishing big pieces of furniture. Which of course makes me wonder if I am the best one for the stay at home job. I care for my boys well and I think they get stimulation and culture and all the things they should. But I have a tendency to look forward to their naps when I can get something done, or get unnaturally excited to go teach my class. So maybe in terms of contentment, James really is the one for the job--the home job that is. We already know that he functions from home better than I ever have. He plans trips and meets friends and picks up the house in one fluid parental action. He is a multi-tasker. I am not. I either clean the kitchen or I play with the boys or I check e-mail. It does not look seamless. And I feel a sense of failure at the end of the day if I have not accomplished enough. James has no such demons.

So I should work and James should stay home. Settled.

But I don't know what I want to do, or how to make enough money to support us or how the hell I'm supposed to find a job with little occupational skills in a really shitty economy. And James has a great job with a manager who really understands him and with good insurance and a 401K. Not settled.

Any ideas?

And also, because they are so dang cute

Some boys' room pictures

Our camera has been giving us some trouble--sucking up batteries and refusing to flash--so photos have been delayed. But last night the sun was particularly wonderful, all slanty and golden through the etched glass of our windows. So I decided to try some shots around the house-mostly of naked little boys running down the shadowy hallway but also a few of projects. Here is the oldest's new door bed and patch quilt made from James' old pj pants, an aqua sheet and (shocker) a big yardage of polyester from Calvin's.


The traintracks/ladder depending on how you look at them and the simple white curtains over the bamboo shades I took from my room. I would never have bought this type of shade but it is actually perfect for a kids room--blocks the light but still gives you a sense of lightness. I made the train tracks by cutting a couple of pieces of 1x2 into similar lengths and then drilling holes in their sides and running a length of blue dollar store rope through them. I'd hoped the rope would look more like the track but alas--seems to be very tree house ladder in stead. I guess a ladder is equally as little-boyish but not quite as transportation-y, which had been the intention.

Boys' room Redesign coming soon

In need of a project and feeling very tired of the vintage lemons, I re-did the boys' room with various scraps of things in aqua and navy. I made quilts, bed skirts, pillow shams and curtains with more exposed aqua serger seams and various t-shirt scraps and a queen sized sheet, then built the oldest a bed with a door and some spare bits of lumber, painted an old dresser regal blue (a brighter bluer navy) and made a ceiling installment meant to look like train tracks (they do, sort of but my housemate thought they were ladders). The only thing I purchased was a quart can of the navy paint to the tune of 12.99$ and a few scraps of 1x2 from Home Depot's 50cent bin. It looks good but not quite good enough to take pictures of yet. I need to make a trim to top the head and foot boards of the bed and find an old doorknob to put in the hole where a doorknob should be and cut a few stray threads and you know--just spruce it all up and stage it first. But pictures are coming.

Calvin's Bag Part 3

Hideous mens turtleneck turned sporty zip-up for the oldest represents my first time cutting up a thick sweater knit. It worked so great I'm on the hunt for hideous turtlenecks (a statement I never thought I'd say). I found the double zipper from SCRAP for 25 cents so it zips from both the top and the bottom, which I guess could be helpful in any number of two-year old situations. I used the serger on a tightened setting (differential? I can't remember what it's called) to gather the knit a little tighter and not have that ripply edge. I liked the aqua thread against the gray so I ended up doing all the seams on the outside for a bit more crafty, modern effect.

It's probably one of the most versatile pieces I've made yet. He really does wear it, all the time--especially in this brisk springy weather--which gives me such an enormous thrill of accomplishment that I'm almost embarrassed.

Calvin's bag-part 2

The next installment in thank you Calvin-a re-purposed house dress for this week's lovely spring weather. The original dress had sort of tent like dimensions. You can probably picture any number of female relatives from older generations wearing it with slippers and foam rollers in her hair. I kept the zipper and the big front pockets but chopped the sleeves for a more cap sleeve effect and took in all of the seams in the waist, one at a time until it fit me like a glove. I used the serger, which proved not the best idea because I cut out a little too much fabric from the shoulder blade section and could not move my arms. I had to sew in an extra section across the back and fixed the problem quite nicely.

This picture is funny to me because I was focusing so intently on getting a picture in the mirror, I paid no attention to my facial expression. So I look crabby--what else is new. And seriously how many chins do I have? I swear, I'm giving up baked goods...and candy...after easter...

museum tour-first stop

I find the show Jon and Kate Plus 8 has the uncanny ability of making me feel both much better and much worse about my life. They have eight small children and have been known to yell at their kids and each other, have colossal messes overpower their house and show quite a few neurosis to the greater TLC watching world. But they also bring all eight of those potential tantrum throwing children to museums and painting workshops and skiing and to see Oprah and all sorts of things that I still cringe at (well not the Oprah part; I have yet to be invited to appear on Oprah) for the very effort it all takes to manage. And I have two children.

We also don't have cable though, so I don't often have these bouts of inferiority when compared to the Goslins. I just pretend that their productivity does not exist in the same world as mine. Maybe it's something about Pennsylvania. I've never lived there.

But fresh off a weekend at my in-laws' house (which does have cable) I was feeling quite bad about the lacking number of museums and cultural destinations my boys have been to of late. So yesterday, on the rainiest, coldest day April has ever seen, we set off for Portland's Museum of Contemporary Craft, which sounded promising because a) it was free, b) it had something to do with my own interests and c) it was located three short blocks from Anthropologie, which I had been wanting to peruse since being back in Portland. So we went and we got drenched and we had to walk very carefully through the museum which is not, I might warn, for children. The oldest found the little statues of children with prominently displayed genitalia very interesting, which was fine (that's not the part I meant about not child-friendly) but he also wanted to sit on the artisan crafted rocking chairs and swing from the breathtaking yarn, felt and sequin vines hanging on one whole side of the gallery. I don't blame him; it was like a magical, much cooler version of Rain forest cafe inspired by Swan Lake. I would like to go back by myself with an ipod and listen to something very epic while I wandered in and around the feathery, viney beauty of it all.

So we didn't stay long because it was lunch time after all and I had a semi-flat tire on the stroller and I could keep the curiosity of the two-year old contained for only so long. Then we went to Whole Foods for a little snack and had the most delicious French Canadian Greek style yogurt that has ever passed any of our three lips. I had moments scooping bites from the container where I seriously thought about eating the whole dang thing myself and feeding the boys graham crackers from my purse instead. But I shared and we went home soggy but full of culture and phenomenal yogurt.

Next stop-- the Kidd toy museum and I'll remember to bring the camera...

Tie Dye for! (sorry) or Calvin's Bag Part 1

New jammies for the youngest--who was in a very happy mood during this photo shoot--made from an enormous tie-dyed t-shirt I bought as a part of the 5$ bag at Tio Calvinos in Clatskanie, OR. The t-shirt was so large, in fact, that I had enough to make pajamas for both boys not even using the sleeves. And the amount of clothing and raw materials I have waiting for me from the 5$ bag makes my head spin a little. If you're ever on your way to the coast from Portland, it would be a shame to miss Calvin's. Daunting when you walk in and realize that the entire building is stacked full of stuff, if you have the time you can wander for hours. In fact I bought a dresser this Saturday along with the previously mentioned bag and when I came back to pick it up on Sunday, I had this urge to walk around some more. You get that with Calvin's, like you probably missed a whole room and a zillion deals (which you probably actually have by the way) so it's easy to come back often. I joked with Calvin on this most recent visit that I should never be allowed into his store without my kids because I get sucked in for hours without the accountability of a near melt down child. From an anthropological standpoint, it's always a fun trip too; Calvin is a gem in a very old fashioned town full of the sort of people that make up the rest of Oregon (besides Portland) and gives us all the reputation for being bi-polar--the most conservative and the most liberal at the same time. We had the good fortune to live in Clatskanie for a couple of months when we first moved to Oregon and have always found a great conversation with Calvin. This trip, it had something to do with the way everything becomes outdated and replaced itself (records became tapes became cd's became ipods) and yet books remain. I posited that it could be said that modern movies replace the place of prose and music replaced poetry when compared to the previous century. And we were off, talking about all sorts of mediums in culture. Unexpected repartee to have with the owner of the local thrift store/flea market.

Phew!

This little bit of floral knit and stretch elastic is finally in the mail on its way to a wee little unborn friend whose mother and I played together as children (including writing an entire musical about woman's suffrage, and eating only things that began with "Pop" for an entire day (popcorn, poptarts, popscicle)). Congrats to her on near motherhood; an endless imagination and willingness to play goes a long way in raising kids so she's got a great start.

In the same post office trip I sent out some grown up versions of the shoes I make for babies and a knitting needle case for my mom's birthday. I had no dimensions to work with for the knitting case so I winged it (wung it?) and made up for total lack of knitting knowledge by using the teal velvet of the previously mentioned chair to make the case. I think she will love the velvet so much she will not notice the bunchy zipper or the small hole at the base of the zipper that no sewing machine needle could ever close, or the fact that her knitting needles might not actually fit. Here's hoping.

And the aqua and green floral dress for my sister whose birthday was February 23, for crying in the night, is also finally in the mail. So you see I'm making progress, even if I'm about a month behind.

A good Reminder

From Maira Kalman's The Principles of Uncertainty