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.