Fashionista

This morning I had on a wonderful outfit. It was trendy, it was brave, it made a statement. My daughter came up from her room in the basement, eyes still crusty with sleep, barley able to see, in my opinion. And her first words were, "what are you wearing?" It was the tone, it was the confusion, it was the implication of my poor judgement spooling out and coming to life, landing like a brick next to my slipper-shod toes that made me jump. I felt ready for the runway, much like this gal. But perhaps just looked ridiculous instead. I quickly changed, rather than sit in doubt all day, that's like being stuck in wet clothes in a cold room. Ucky.
Rather than be grumpy, I asked my daughter to go to my closet and select 4 or 5 outfits that she liked, "choose from anything I own, anything you own", I begged. I loved every choice she made. My favorite was one I wore last week to church. We picked the same combination and she didn't know it. I got one out of four, I guess. Good news is I have three new outfits and a daughter that will be seen in public with me. When I came home from work today, I had coffee spilled all down the front of my shirt. But there's nothing she can do about that. Grace doesn't come in my size.

This picture is from Vogue, Hommage A Paris, June, 1985 pg 347. It is entirely written in French, I speak and read not a word. The symbol is the artist's signature, but I do not (shamefully) know who it is? The magazine was an exciting gift from a dear friend who got into the garage sale spirit one day and fell upon it.. and thought of me. I love it even if it is beyond my understanding on more than one level.

Now it's getting serious

Don't we all start out viewing just casually, then maybe you get drawn in to regular reading, then OK, you subscribe, then it's a little addictive... Then it's not enough to view, read, oogle, and comment, NOW YOU HAVE TO BLOG. They made it so exciting, seem so easy.

I am excited to be joining an amazing crowd of women who craft, sew, knit and crochet out there in the blogging world. Linking from one fun site to the next, getting inspirations faster than I can process the information sometimes.

I used to surf through in search of decorating ideas, and stumbled onto Flickr, which led me to Etsy, which led me to wonderful blog after wonderful blog, sometimes to viewing crafts and photos and writings from people so far away and with talent so impossibly above my reach, and yet so very accessible and close.

I received a sweet comment, MY FIRST comment today. Isn't that a milestone for a blogger? I don't care if it seems silly or trivial for me to be a bit giddy. Some one I don't know, whom I have read dropped me a line. I have always been the quiet visitor, one who felt the story or the picture was already so fab, what would I have to say that would add, would have meaning for the stranger I was commenting? Today it made sense. The "hey, there" that acknowledges your fretful post and your picture that isn't as great as you wished it were, it's important stuff. I will no longer be the silent visitor. I will say "hello, loved your work, loved that shot". I will be a blogging cheerleader. No more lurking for me. Now it's getting serious, Hello, Blogger, allow me to introduce myself...

Grandma's House

I love this photo. It is my Great Grandmother and my Mom sitting in her living room. Mom fell asleep on her Grandma's lap. This picture sits on my dresser and I see it when I get ready every day. Looking at it you see two sweet, gentle souls comfy and cozy. But these are two of the feistiest women ever put on the earth, sharing a seat, quietly resting. Maybe that was what the photographer was trying to capture, "Look at the wild beasts, resting so quietly! Normally you can never get this close..". A rare moment caught on film.
My mom returned from her vacation this week. She had trinkets for her daughters, trinkets for her grand kids, even a few friends. My daughter and I had coffee with her on her first morning back and listened to her stories from her trip. We laughed long, hard and loud. Laughter is so precious, so vital. My mom and I laugh and joke as often as possible, she has a fantastic sense of humor, a sharp wit. There is no subject we won't try to laugh our way through discussing. When she is gone on vacation or I haven't seen her in a few days, the laughter is what I miss most. It's the knee-slapping, head-tossing, snorting and bent-over-at-the-waist kind of laughter that you only really share with people you really trust, really know and who truly understand you. Her father was a brilliant story teller, quick with a joke for any situation, marvelous delivery. His laughter alone with it's volume, it's depth, it's ferocity could make you start to laugh, even if you weren't sure what was so funny. When we would spend the night at his house and Mom would come to pick us up, Papa would walk Mom outside so he could tell her a joke, they would be out in the yard yucking it up and my sister and I would watch and wonder and wish we could hear what they said. I am just grateful that laughter was so important to them, that it was so much a part of growing up for me.
Last night my daughter had her boyfriend over and my husband and I watched a movie with them. When the movie was over, I got up to leave the room, and made a comment about the movie. We have hardwood floors and I was wearing socks and when I stood up from my chair to turn and make my clever comment, I planned to "twirl", (don't ask) and the momentum from the swinging of my leg was too much. My twirl was too forceful and I began to lose my balance. I was hopping and stumbling all around the living room, dodging furniture the whole way. Then I got the giggles. It's moments like these that I am glad I have a sense of humor, that I can laugh at myself. I was the comic relief last night. It brought back fond memories of growing up in my parent's house and how often my Mom was the comedy show. I was still giggling in bed later that night.
The women in our family are strong, loud, funny, sometimes the butt of the joke. It's OK, I can carry on the line, I have proven myself worthy.

Twist

The KS My Stitch Crochet Guild president, Tamara Gonzales in the window of Twist Yarn Shop. Tamara is a crochet artist and teacher. She and Rosina and I met last week to create a plan to decorate the windows at Twist to celebrate National Crochet Month in March.

Rosina is in the window, she was busy, busy and though I promised to get her good side, she hardly held still long enough to catch her! This window is huge! Our plan was to recreate "your first apartment", hand-me down furniture, all your first craft projects, all your hobbies crammed into one room.

That's me in the window, we each took turns taking pictures as we went along, Rosina caught me making dinner plans on the phone.
Speaking of dinner, Tamara decided that the lady of this house was such a crochet freak, every aspect of her life was covered in yarn. Tamara put crocheted flowers in the coffee pot, in the salt shakers, on the tea saucers and even made a tossed salad of doilie lettuce. I LOVE IT.
There's our pretty lady, she's dressed in a vintage dress and apron. Her shoes are full of yarn and crochet hooks. We were fortunate that the shop two doors down, Harmonious Posh Vintage Boutique, allowed us to go through their merchandise and choose items to help us tell our story in Twist's window. We borrowed a bowling bag, a phone, the dresses and shoes and a percolator.

Anything that would hold yarn was stuffed to the brim.

Twist on reality..

Obviously, I am not a photographer. The light hit the windows in such a way, it was impossible to really see the colorful pieces the crochet guild members allowed us to display. Trust me when I say it was like Spring had walked in and sat down for a while. I am ready for one of our Spring days.
This is my Grandmother's watering can, and just behind it are the tails of one of her aprons. The rose is made of paper with turquoise ric-rac and crochet sewn around it. I got this idea from seeing one of Tamara's sweaters in the window in December. I loved the idea of crocheting onto the ric-rac.
Doilies, delightful doilies. The coffee percolator is full of luscious yarn. I love the slice of pink coconut cake that Jackie loaned us for our display. I haven't even mentioned getting to dig through Jackie Clark's tubs of crochet pieces she collects. There was no shortage of choices.
The quilt thrown over the ironing board was hand pieced by Tamara's Grandmother and given to her as a wedding gift. The colors are spectacular. More ric-rac on the apron!
The icing on the cake.. I have to say, I like this picture. You can't really see the colors as vibrantly as I would like, but I love the reflection of our clock tower. This clock tower is in the center of one of our city's roundy-rounds. That's not the technical term, but what I call the circular intersection that marks the end of the Delano District downtown.

Hanky Panky

Several times a week, I work from my dad's office doing data entry. I take my computer, without it I am useless there. Most of my jobs require that I take my computer with me. Yet on Thursday I walked straight out the door with only a cup of coffee in my hand. No tools of the trade. Fortunately, his office is not far from my home, and I realized my error quickly enough to turn around. It was snowing, I really didn't want to get out of the car. My husband was off work at home and had scraped the windshield and warmed up the car for me. But to go on without my computer was ridiculous. Turing back to retrieve it, also a quandary. I might not want to leave again. To settle my inner battle, I pulled into the parking lot of the Goodwill, conveniently halfway to work and halfway home. I called the boss to report my tardy, make sure I was truly needed at work today. I confessed my location and stated I would be further late, I must go in. The mannequin in the window was wearing a "Lucky Charms" t-shirt. I was feeling lucky. My mother and I have long believed we have "retail" angels. Little angels above who direct us to the best goodies, just at the best time, just when we are in need of such an item. More than luck, a forceful guidance. I was doubtful at first, but have become tuned in to this guidance. I have witnessed my mother describe a seemingly unattainable item she wanted to purchase, to every detail, often giving her wished purchase price, then the item appears on one of our shopping adventures, placed right in our path. She is lucky, she is almost never disappointed in her retail wishing. What might be waiting for me today?
My workroom at home tells the story that I NEED nothing, that I have more than I can manage.
But in the linen aisle of the Goodwill, I find treasures that I can't pass up. Someone like me had a treasure of sweet hankies they were parting with, each one lovelier than the last. I loaded them into the cart and knew I had left my computer at home for a reason.
Happily I left to retrieve my computer and finished my day's work. I rushed home to clean my workspace so that I could enjoy my new goodies. I had not felt like cleaning it for several projects in a row and it was overdue. I had found this lavender linen spray at the Dollar Tree a few weeks ago and thought I had the perfect opportunity to try it out. It made ironing the little hankies a fun experience. My room was clean, the hankies pressed and everything smelled so pretty.
Sometimes it just takes a little inspiration to get us moving, for me all the inspiration needed was a stack of handkerchiefs for the mere price of $1.49 (and half a day's lost wages). I used them today in a window display and was so happy to have them on hand. Unexpected joy.

Mama always knows

My mom is on vacation. She has been gone all but about five days this month. First Hawaii, now Padre Island. Woman of liesure. Retired. She called this morning to check in on all her chicks. Mother hen. She was hesitant to ask how things were going, last time she left there was a melt down and she decided to remain unavailable for the duration of her cruise, I was ruining her relaxing vibe. Much to her joy, this check-in, I had followed the advice she had given me before she left. Guess what, she was right. Having done what she asked, I had successful results. You were right Mom. Yes, she's on vacation, yes, she's retired, but she is always, always my mother, and she is always, always right. I am proof that you can raise your children to listen to their mother. While she may be away, this morning's call is also proof that being a mother never ends. Not ever. I had more news, news that would spoil the Padre-vibe just as the cruise had been tainted, but I'm saving it for her return. I see no reason to spoil her fun at having been right.

Wish Jar

I love when I meet other women who are as oddly obsessed with little treasures as I am. I feel healthy, I feel normal, I feel understood and sense an immediate connection. Then I just want to share. Show me yours now! I have loved this aspect of the internet. I love that when I go to look at other blogs and websites they are full of other busy bees like myself. This jar belongs to my friend Lori's neighbor. His mother was a teacher and each time she found a little bit or a little piece, she put it in this jar on her desk. After she retired, she kept the jar and when friends would bring their kids by to visit or eventually when grandkids came along, they would shake the jar, dump it out, oogle it all and put it back. Things got added over time. It is a fantastic time capsule, a collage of lives and wishes and dreams. When she showed it to me I couldn't wait to start my own jar. Goodbye junk drawer, oh, no waste bin, you'll have no more of my goodies. To the wish jar. I have plans for this stuff. There is a grandchild many, many years down the road that will someday dump out my jar and wonder at it's treasures and ask about its contents. This is a story in the making.

Lovely Piles

Everything in the pile is so loved. My mother painted the little watercolor duckie when she was in grade school, the patterns were a nickle at a garage sale, I've since scanned them into my computer and passed them along. I knew when I bought them I would never sew one of them. I just liked the vintage pictures of the boy running. How could I not buy them for a nickle? Who charges a nickle anymore? Tonight my son and I made a "stop motion" video using his legos, we even set it to music. When I went to edit the photos, I found this one waiting. The little boy's sweet face reminded me of my sweet boy. It's been a long time since he looked at me with pure joy on his face, but tonight when he saw his Indiana Jones guy running on his stop motion movie, it was pure joy. "Now that's cool, Mom". My geekdom has perks.

Baby Shower

Last week my friend Beverly was telling me how excited she gets about the mail comming. She says she always anticipates that there will be something wonderful waiting for her. She was astounded that I hate to check my mail. I have no such faith in the postal service. I know there is nothing but junk mail and bills, even a past due notice I may not want to acknowledge. But today there was something wonderful. My friend I made the baby quilt for sent announcements for her daughter's baby shower. Yeah, shopping, girly stuff, party, cake and curly ribbon. The card was hand made, hand stamped and was a delight. It's in the shape of a onsie and even has pink grommets where the snaps would be. CLEVER. I still don't want to check the mail, but this was a nice surprise.

Girl Trip

This is my sister, Jennifer. Today we drove to Kansas City, MO for a fun "girls day". I was in charge of navigating. We only had to stop for directions once.
We gossiped, we threw tantrums, we ranted about our children and then had lunch. We shopped, we bargained, we threw more tantrums, then stopped for coffee. She gave me this sweet gift on the way home.
I took a picture because it isn't often I get an unexpected
gift, (which was gift-wrapped and had a pretty card). No, these are rare moments I must document. The day just got better as it went. I loved my present, a book of essays and poems about sisters. She even had her favorite one picked out for me to read, "The Story of Two Very Different Sisters". It was on the money and so wonderful. It had been a long time since we had time together. I see her often, but it's always shared time with family or friends.. always with children, it seems. So today was a treat. I can't wait to do it again. I call shotgun.

My first quilt

You can't work for Jackie and not love fabric. She wouldn't hire you, I don't think, well maybe, but there would have to be a really good reason. As a decorator, the most exciting thing I got to do was select fabrics to be used in new spaces. Endless choices these days, every taste has multile options. People get overwhelmed, confused, their eyes glaze over. It was my job to weed out the good, the bad, THE UGLY. I have no trouble doing that as a decorator. I do find it difficult as a crafter. For some reason my judgement and clarity escape me the moment I enter the fabric store. I am sure it's because I have left "decorator" mode and moved into my normal behavior mode once the project is personal. Isn't it easier to shop for someone else?
One day Jackie was parting with scraps from her new fabric line, Sweetest Gifts. She offered any of us on the team to take from the pile. I left with a Glad trash bag full. I had just purchased a new sewing machine and was dying to make something. Because Jackie had been sewing like mad to recreate many of her patterns in her new line of fabric, so many of the pieces were already cut into wonderful, usable sizes. My dear neighbor had just told me she was expecting her first grandchild. I now had my project and the perfect fabric with which to do it. This is my first quilt, and really it's a blankie. I patchworked it, but did not "quilt" it. I did the easy, old fashioned ties every so many inches to keep the front and back from sliding.
One really fun aspect of the quilt was using the computer to make fabric labels that say "sweet" and "dreams". Computer geek that I am, I couldn't make a quilt without making a fabric transfer on the inkjet printer. The crocheted rosettes are purchased from a craft store, I wish I had known when I made it how to make flowers. I have since learned, though, the lovely Tamara took extra time showing me this technique .
It was a fun weekend project, but only because I didn't spend hours aimlessly wandering through the aisles trying to choose the perfect fabrics. As luck would have it, Jackie Clark solved that problem for me. These fabrics are soft, fresh, sweet and were easy to sew with.

My Lunch Date

This vintage button card was crocheted by Tamara Gonzales. She created it for her sister, Jackie Clark to use as note cards and thank you's. I have had the priveledge of working for Jackie for several months now. The button card was a hit at the quilt market she and her sister had just returned from when I began working for her. It was fun to read on other blogs the response that people had to them. The real deal is special, the copied note cards are quaint. I love the idea. I crocheted around paper heart shaped doilies this Valentine's Day because I was dying to try this but could think of nothing I could add to it's already perfected cuteness.

I said I was a lucky gal. I am. I had lunch today with Tamara and Rosina, a memeber of Tamara's crochet guild that she is the president of. We met at a wonderful french cafe downtown and had a fabulous meal getting acquainted and discussing the crochet guild. I told you someone would buy me lunch, today it was Tamara and what a generous thing to offer, what a wonderful gift.

I have known Jackie and Tamara for about 15 years now. Knowing - meaning our paths keep crossing. I used to shop at Jackie's resale clothing store for baby clothes for my daughter. As you can imagine, it was a wonderful boutique. I was young and a new mom and Jackie looked like she knew what she was doing, she made being a shop owner look easy. I couldn't wait to try it one day. I did, about seven years later. That's when I got to know Tamara, she shopped in my consignment store and I would ask about Jackie. My husband and Jackie's husband work at Cessna and so every Christmas when the company party rolled around, I knew I could sit and find out the scoop and see what Jackie was doing. Imagine my surprise when she began to tell me about her pattern business and that it had begun to really take off and grow. Little did I know what she and Tamara had already been doing. I had since closed my shop and found my health was limiting what I felt I could do in the decorating world. Jackie invited me to see what she was doing, she knew I liked computers and that maybe I could help with her growth spurt. My mind hasn't stopped spinning since she introduced me to her business, her ideas, her concept and her team.

I told her early on in the game that she had always been a hero to me. Maybe she thought I was sucking up. I know she was being modest. Hero is a big word. But often we assign big characteristics to our heros. To me being a hero is being kind, being positive, being a contributor, being graceful, being bold, being true to who you are, setting an example and when someone asks you, how did you do that, giving them encouragement to try. Simple, yet so hard.

Today I am lucky, today I had lunch with Tamara and Rosina and they treated me like a lost old freind. We laughed and I was inspired and excited to be included in working on a project for the crochet guild decorating the window for a wonderful yarn shop, Twist that is graciously hosting their meetings. What decorator girl doesn't want to do a window? What girl doesn't want to have lunch with friends and laugh. Today I have two more friends than I did last week because someone was thinking of me and suggested I might enjoy taking a crochet class from a really good teacher. Sisters are a great thing. Thank you for so many, many things, my friends.

The hitch in my giddy-up came when I was sitting in the kitchen telling my husband about my fun day and I noticed that there was a strange piece of tape on the front of my shirt. I wondered how it got there. I was talking and pulling and questioning out loud and my husband began to laugh.. "It's the size sticker, you forgot to pull it off you goof!", "Yeah, let me decorate the window, I'm so detail oriented.." we cackled and laughed. He says he loves me, how lucky can you get?

How Lucky..

I don't feel lucky to the point that I'm purchasing a Lotto ticket every week KNOWING it's going to be the winning ticket, the answer to my financial woes. Not lucky like that. But I am lucky. My luck exists in the form of keeping me EVEN. If I lose ten dollars this week, next week I'll find five dollars in the laundry and someone will buy me lunch. EVEN STEVEN. My husband is luckier. If he calls on the radio to win the free tickets the DJ is giving away, he'll be the right number caller, so will my son. They have better luck at winning randomly in life. My daughter has the worst luck. She gets caught anytime she breaks a rule, breaks something I love, or loses something imortant. She has the worst luck.

What is nice, though is that we get to enjoy the lucky bonuses as a family and when I feel on the down end of my luck, someone reminds me to wait a minute and it will repair itself and I'll be even again soon. We fill the gaps for each other, my daughter may not win the lottery, but if her dad does, or her brother does, they will share, because I'm even-steven and I'll make them share.

A fine example of my luck this week was having a friend who works in the retail industry giving me donations from her company. I won't say what company or what goods they were, but it was a generous windfall. I picked up the goods and all week long gave things away like Santa Claus. I felt so good and giving felt so wonderful. I received from another contact eight bags of clothing donations that I could divy out to friends and family and use for sewing scraps, I received from my aunt a jewelry box full of trinkets and brooches that she selected from my Grandmother's belongings when she passed away last month. All of this happened on the same lucky day. Then, delivering my goods this week, I got a ticket for speeding. EVEN STEVEN. What I gained in goods, I lost in fines. EVEN, but not at a loss. I laugh every time it happens. If I won the lottery, I would lose the check after I singed it. And then I would think, at least I won.

The photo insert is a book cover "The Luckies Girl". Beverly Cleary. I love the graphics, the colors are soft and sweet.