Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Sew Be It.

And sew it begins. Clueless, I walked into Joann Fabrics yesterday to find some backing material, embroidery floss, some pins and needles for the QUILT undertaking I’ve set my heart on doing. I left the store with everything on my list coupled with knots in my gut for the mission on hand. 





Fabric of choice for the quilt's back part

How do they do it? Those amazing DIY women who make crafting seem so easy, and still manage to sneak in a gorgeous all-telling photograph of each and every step.  Probably all second nature to them for sure, but I am positive that it can be learned given the proper motivation. 

The sewing machine used to be the best Lola (grandmother) appendage. Just right in there with thick glasses, a perm, floral dusters, Lola kisses, and the odd smelling perfume with the viscosity of glue. Growing up, only grandmothers sat behind them yet these days either I’ve rapidly aged in my thirties or the prospect of getting behind this daunting machine has become more of a creative outlet. The sewing machine is now like that mystery girl you bump into at a Radiohead concert with the Anthropologie scarf and the feather earrings that you want to be friends with. You know you have things in common but you don’t know where to start the conversation.  

My grandmother is a grand master of the sewing craft. She can make everything from table linens to curtains to pillows, so there must be a tiny speck of genetic DNA that made its way into my cup of capabilities. 

Still.

Out of the box It smelled like musty cinnamon. Is there even such a thing? I know I’m supposed to wash it, but given that the listing mentioned that it’s twenty years older than me, I can’t just throw it in the wash and bleach the antiquated dust out of it. Must handle with love. 



Yardage, batting, french knots, binding, yo-yo’s, cutaways, feed sacks, tacking,  -  these are all jargon to me. Give me iambic pentameters and villanelles, oxymorons and synecdoche and I can have a conversation with you. At this point, I am clueless and yet hopeful to the possibilities that stand before me in this crafting threshold. It only takes one step to walk through. 

So. What to do after the quilt top you've purchased arrives? 

Say, HI. 


Hello there

I can already tell that we’re going to have a long and lasting friendship.




Tuesday, March 15, 2011

One. Two. Three Things

1. A Road Trip. 2. What was I thinking!? 3. Dada!

ONE

Last weekend at Lake Tahoe was... interesting to say the least. It had been planned months in advance and between the chaos of shopping for fleece buntings for the baby, waterproof jackets (which of course turned out to be too big) and gloves, hats, and thick puffy coats to be snow-ready, we were thrilled for our first family road trip! 



The drive to Tahoe was idyllic. It was a sunny drive; three cars, three families (with three more on the way but later in the afternoon) we had our infinite playlists ready for hours and hours of car-eoke.  That’s right. I sing in the car. Some people sing in showers. I don’t - because I sing in cars. Hubby knows this very well. Meanwhile, driving was smooth and our little cubbie was warm and sleepy in her car seat which I, of course, turned into a warm fleecy haven of pink and fluff. 

The house was completely snowed in when we arrived. It was 5:00pm and the sun was slowly pulling down the shades of the day along with the temperature. So, imagine our disbelief when my friend and I  walked through the house and discovered that there was NO HEAT. NO WATER - NO WAY. The pipes were frozen stiff, the master bedroom’s deck door was pushed open with a pile of snow, and there were freaky looking Raggedy-Ann dolls sitting on top of a quilt-topped twin bed in a room small enough to be called a closet. 

The fireplace was the best place to set up camp with blankets and coats while the men shoveled snow and checked out other lodge options. So there we were, babies and mothers, a fat WTF question mark looming over our heads, and an argument with possibly the absolute worst property manager on the planet. 

It was a long night. We were moved into a lodge hours later after a kind man was hired to shovel a path for us to walk through, which he labored over for nearly five hours. Some shuttling was involved back and forth from one house to another, SUV’s getting stuck on icy roads, disorientation in the darkness of night, freezing temperatures.  


Outdoor freezers are awesome.

And to the management and company that leases out houses that have NO HEAT and NO WATER on a freezing winter night, knowing FULLY WELL that there will be THREE six month old infants and FOUR children there, as stated when the agreement was signed, is completely unacceptable. The fact that PG & E shut down both the gas and water THREE WEEKS (as evidenced by the statement they left) prior to our signed agreement, and two MONTHS prior to our arrival tells us that there are seriously some legal issues that need to be resolved.

We pretty much had three houses in three days. The first had no heat. No water. Frozen pipes. The second had one bathroom - for fifteen people. The third had the heat locked into place, nosebleeds ensued. The weekend turned out to be a piece of thread sticking out from a new sweater that you pull and unravels into a mess of threads and a new sweater with a new hole. 


Oh, but there was snow. and lots of it. Falling snow will always be magical, even more so when they land your daughter’s lashes - and it makes her smile.  It made it all worthwhile.  




TWO

The quilt search is over! Yes! But what was i thinking when I bought a quilt top!?

A quilt top means (oh my) I HAVE TO FINISH IT. It’s not a quilt until it’s quilted. I have never sewed anything to save my life. Ok, that’s a lie. ONCE in high school. Potholders, I think. But that was years ago and this is a project that I have to finish just in time for spring flings with parks and other forms of recreation. Nevertheless, the colors are gorgeous, the vintage fabric lovingly sewed together for the perfect mix of organized chaos, and the blue stripes offer a unique flair of the French countryside. Can one fall in love with fabric?  


Certainly.




THREE


She said Dada!! Is it too early? Probably not. Whether or not she knows what she’s saying, she’s let the word loose morning, noon, and night ever since consonants and vowels started rolling around in her tongue. 



Oh these milestones. We are grateful for every single one of them. 

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

SIX Months!



Ten things I know for sure about our 6 month old LittleLove:

1.   Eating solids is a challenge of patience, but once her attention is caught, she  
       will lap it up, even chase after the spoon!
2.   She loves to stand and jump. On your knee. Your belly. Your foot. The 
      bouncer. Couch. Bed. Table. Floor. 
3.   She fishes for your attention and once she catches your eye, she flashes the 
      biggest smile!
4.   My god, the girl loves to laugh - and what a voice!!!
5.   Elephants, Giraffes and Bunnies are her favorite animals. 
6.   Anything she gets her hand on she will put in her mouth. Even your finger. or hair. 
7.   She’s a morning person and is never grumpy when she wakes up.
8.   When she’s happy she opens her mouth (as if to eat you) and crinkles her nose.
9.   Why she loves label tags on her toys, blankets, and clothes I will never know. 
10. She loves the outdoors - trees and flowers and the wind in her face.



The past six months just flew out the window and there is so much to savor in the life of a growing child.  It’s like driving and while most things are a blur because you’re fixated on the road, there are things that catch your eye. A red door, a victorian house, a flame tree in full bloom and hard as you try to take it all in you can’t just hit the brakes and stop. So you take a photograph with your mind’s eye and recreate that image in your mind, but unlike a real picture you can never have the exact image on hand. 



I want to savor these little things. The milestones alone are incredible. Little things that are actually big things.


yummy yummy yummy I got love in my tummy

Now, her curious little hands love to touch and grab EVERYTHING. She’s discovered details, like buttons on her pants and (of all things) label tags. Holding a piece of paper with her fingers is amazing considering her hands, just a few months ago, didn’t even have the dexterity to pat a ball. Or to pull my hair. And to swat Daddy’s chin. 


So many fleeting moments in a day like the unique complexity of bubbles that pop even before you can get to them. I have to keep reminding myself how important it is to savor the small.  

Being with my daughter every single day since the day she was born, I would consider a privilege. I’m not going to lie and say that it’s all peachy. I’ve turned, quite literally into a human pacifier, there are areas of neglect around the house and there are breathless, whimpering days when a help me escapes my lips like a bat out of hell.  

Our baby’s half a year old. What a privilege and a gift it is to watch her grow and play and discover the world around her.




And to the world. Just you wait. A smile and her bright eyes and you are forever changed.   

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

What is Paradise but a Garden.

Sunday at the park ( San Francisco Botanical Garden )was the perfect weekend local getaway. Just the three of us, walking through the arch of Magnolia trees with winding pathways that led to various continental cloud forests, ancient plant gardens, a waterfowl pond, and a great meadow and a redwood grove. It’s still too cold for a picnic by the pond with friends, family, and the curious waterfowl skimming the pond along with the rest of the wild and wondrous ecosystem that thrives in the park. 

I’m feeling it. The spring fever of quilts and picnics. Sandwiches. Poetry. The wind, sun, and mild weather - so many afternoons to spend. 
“In the Spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt” - Margaret Atwood.


And there were benches...everywhere, were you can sit and watch the sunlight move across gardens and groves. There is a familiar stillness in the park. Like when fog moves through the trees in a state of peace, it is a vision of calmness that resonates from the cloud forests to the inner garden of our quiet soul. 

And though most (if not all) the benches in the park were placed in remembrance of lives that once were, they are undeniably inviting - to sit in solemnity and celebrate the life that continues to unfold before you; ever changing.


What is paradise but a garden!

It helps that every single plant, flower and tree had tags otherwise it would’ve just been “oooooh that pink- hanging- thing is soooo pretty” and “Puuuurple flowerrrrs!” 

Our little Love, always fascinated by trees and flowers was quietly observing the beauty that surrounded her, a change from her usual afternoon babble - the language of trees that effortlessly lulled her to sleep.  




The vast expanse of the park draws out the creative spirit in each and every one of us. 

The annual flourish of Magnolias is a BIG event at the park! Ad and posters everywhere - how FABULOUS is that?! Only in San Francisco.  


This is by far the most fascinating and largest botanical garden I’ve been to (can’t say I’ve been to much, really). Like I always say, the possibility of how much dynamism thrives in the park will surely be stunning, and when spring comes forward and everything is in bloom our bearings will be set back to the garden. 



Magnolias bloom mid-winter and is a sure sign that Spring is a turn away.
And so...
The park beckons in Spring. 

* * *

Let it be known that I am on the hunt for the perfect quilt. One that I can carry with me through the seasons. I want the organized chaos of printed fabrics squares preferably hand tied backed with a simple fabric that can withstand years of grass laying, sandy beaches, bedroom ruffles, drools, tugs, and hugs.  Let’s not forget affordable. 

Looking through the usual shops, I see a lot of vintage varieties - I think a prefer a new quilt with a bohemian look; perhaps in this case it’s best to start with something new and build new memories that will weave into the fabric itself rather than buy something that is actually vintage (albeit tempting as those that I’ve seen are gorgeous). 


Well, If Man can shop globe, Mama can shop Ebay or Etsy. Game on. 
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