Pocket Review: Le Petit Reve

When a package you’ve been waiting for finally arrives, you don’t wait and find a pair of scissors, a knife, or anything resembling a sharp object to rip that bag open. Fingers, teeth, the corner of your remote control - anything will do. That’s the wonderful thing about packages that arrive at your doorstep; they can’t be judged based on how they look, because more often than not they look bruised, limp, and left-for-dead like it got into a fight - and lost.

The item in mind here is a blanket for Mandarin. A custom made quilt with vintage floral fabric, white eyelet ruffles held together with organic buttery soft fleece. Now, the imminent cliche that drops in this sentence : it is what is inside that counts. Because the filthy plastic bag that arrived that afternoon opened up to reveal a lovely boutique-style gift, wrapped in Japanese tissue and tied together with pink gingham fabric. Even lovelier was the blanket itself. Perfectly quilted with squares of dainty pink rosebuds, the softest vintage chenille and flannel, the muted colors of the roses - all pulled together with delicate pink lace; I thought twice before unraveling it because it was so pretty.

We are in L♥VE!

The shop, Le Petit Reve = The Little Dream with a BIG heart. ♥

Thank you Selena, seamstress extraordinaire!

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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. 

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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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