under the wire

Now it really is finished, without a second to spare.  I literally took it out of the dryer and got into the car to take it to the auction.  It was one of those situations where I really wish I'd had (or really taken better advantage of) ten more minutes.  The rush meant that Alex didn't have enough time to acclimate to the busy and the noise.   

There are so many kids here.  Some tears. 

His wonderful teacher held him for the beginning of the sing ("Danny Boy" + "Toora Loora Loora"--he whispered along) and by the time they were ready for his specialty ("Michael Finnegan"), he was back in business.

This wonderful teacher is part of our wonderful preschool, where the classrooms are painted (and named) yellow, green, and blue, hence the fabrics.  The top is modeled after this beautiful quilt, though the fabrics are from a variety of lines.




















I cut the 16 fat quarters that made the team (I smiled when I saw this collection, because three of the fabrics I used appear there as well--which I'm wrangling into some sort of personal fabric selection validation, since I really love all of Rashida's work) into 17 inch squares, and arranged and rearranged for a good while.  I do wish I could swap one of the dark blues for one of the greens in the upper right corner, but every switch necessitated another, like dominoes, and so I finally drew the line and sewed them together.

The backing is mainly some (soft!) chambray that I already had, along with some scrappy patchwork from the prints.  I really had almost nothing left, but I'm so glad to have used what I did for something I'm keeping because I love this combination of fabrics.  A lot.



















I quilted it in thread to match the binding, a risk I'm really glad I took, with imperfect (Jacquie calls them organic) lines about an inch apart--this took forever with a capital F.  I finally found a speed that my walking foot could handle without the process stealing years of my life.  It's bound in the teal-on-teal dots, along with some Kona everglade.
















It's home for the weekend so I could photograph it and go over the binding, and then back to school on Monday it goes, to meet its owner.  Next up is Alex's quilt (while I was working on this one, he kept asking, "Is that for me?")--but this one is hard enough to let go that I can see its cousin somewhere off in the future.

as promised...

What most people would call the guest room, we call Grandma's room.  Other people have stayed in it, but she is our most frequent guest.  Since I try to keep our room relatively gender-neutral, Grandma's room is the landing spot for all things pastel. 

When I was pregnant with Alex, my nesting instinct zeroed in on his room and this room--I was obsessed with tiny details that she probably didn't even notice when she stayed with us after he was born, but they were critical to me.  I'll never forget how I forgot to buy flowers (difficult to do with a newborn and a c-section), and was crushed.

Fast-forward two years.  71 to1, I was the winner of this giveaway from Ashely at Film in the Fridge; in my comment, I thought I'd try a pillow if I won.  This was early in my quilting life.  I didn't have a sewing machine that could handle free motion quilting, and so once I got them in the mail, they sat.

















Fast-forward six months.  A new machine, a first quilt under my belt, and a little courage in my heart since I hadn't inserted a zipper since about 1997--and the blocks are, as promised, a pillow.
















I spent a really long time deciding how to arrange them (which I'm OK with because in the process I came up with another really fun idea), and finally settled on this design, where the centers face up on one side and down on the other.  I think it best spaces the prints, and adds some movement to the front.  I know the actual bento block design doesn't use sashing, but since the quartered blocks weren't switched out with others made of different prints, I liked the way it broke things up.

The sashing and back are Kona muslin, and I tried a kind of longer stipple on the diagonal, to both echo and contrast the design of the blocks.  Ashley was kind enough to include her scraps, and I used them in the pieced binding (with tips from Malka of A Stitch in Dye) and for the back,




















which I love because it's like the butterfly is flying through the pillow.

These photos employ the time-honored blogger photo technique of cropping out the disaster that surrounds the subject.  When you're remodeling the basement, everything has to go somewhere, and somewhere at our house is Grandma's room.  She had to climb over all of this junk as she made her way to bed on a recent visit, but our Grandma is a good Grandma, and she doesn't complain.  Of course, the pillow is hers.

these boots get a lot of wear.

Occasionally, they're firefighter boots, but recently, they're Santa's boots.  Santa's been getting a lot of attention around here, more since Christmas than before it, actually.  There's flying in the laundry basket sleigh (strictly with Dad, that game), lots of ho ho hoing, reading and rereading of many Christmas books.  And ever shape-aware, if a slice of bread comes to resemble Santa's sleigh as it's munched, all the better--except when you have to keep eating it.

Tears erupted, full-on, like I had taken away his yellow bear forever.  Things got even worse when I said no, he couldn't take the bread-sleigh up for naptime.  Racking brain, racking brain.

















That's a paper towel, everyone. Cut into a sleigh and accessories.  In a fit of "genius", I cut some slits so Santa's boots fit into the sleigh and the sack fits onto his back.  He's upstairs sleeping with it right now.
















I wish I'd had the video camera to capture the delight.  A tinkly giggle that I never want to forget.  I'm sure he will have moved on in a day or a few, but really, that's my favorite thing about blogging--I took a minute to take the pictures and tell the story, so long after this time, when he can still be consoled by something so simple, I (we) will remember.

making progress

Well, I didn't quite finish the entire thing...but I did do all the knitting and start the blocking, which I'd say is pretty good for someone who's just finally over a nine-day stay from the swine cold (I never had a fever, but apparently this is possible?).  This is my first time blocking a knit (embarrassing to admit, but there, I said it!) and I have to say that I'm really enjoying it.  The blanket's visual success depends, I think, on corners as perfect as I can get them, and with so many knitters making the individual panels, some coaxing was required to get everything to match up.  I'm about a third of the way there (maybe some sort of faux pas in blocking? but such is life with a preschooler) and am really excited to see the difference the process will have made.

Back on task.

Another item from my November to-do list was that leaf wreath...which I contemplated giving up on till next year, because (did everyone know this but me?) the leaves are about finished falling before November even starts.  I have a door decoration for Halloween so I figured I'd wait till that was finished...but the leaves were mostly crackly and dirty and faded.  We made the best of it, and of the glorious day, by taking a family leaf collection walk yesterday, made all the more official by the fact that we were accompanied by a zookeeper who started out reluctant but took the "leaf collection" very seriously by the end.

I felt a little odd just walking up to people's parkways and taking their leaves, but nobody seemed to mind and I even met a new-to-me neighbor who asked me to please take them all. :)  It was actually kind of a rush to see a big pile of fresh-looking leaves (ooh! an apartment building!  They don't rake!) and then scurry over and bag as many as I could.

I ended up needing to make a repeat leaf run because, as Mollie mentioned, this thing took a lot of leaves.  I made the frame as suggested by Britt on her post at Infarrantly Creative, and then just started threading 'em on there.  What gave me the most bang for my leaves was using the taped sections for the sides, since the tape kept the leaves from falling and clumping at the bottom.  I actually added some extra tape at intervals along the sides and then again on the corners. 

We went to JoAnn's last night for some ribbon, but the line was way too long, so I went with this orange satin ribbon from a grab bag I bought a while back (best investment ever!).  Not my favorite, but for this year, it will be just fine.  Once I had it hung, I trimmed the stems, and it was finished. 

 Next year: brighter, fresher leaves...and maybe I'll splurge on the fancy ribbon.

all hallows' eve eve

Say that fast a bunch of times.

Not that anyone is dying to do a craft right now, but there's always next year...we did this at Alex's Halloween party today and I thought it was about the cleverest thing I'd ever seen.  I also really liked it because it appealed to my mess-hating craft-indifferent kiddo.  I cannot take one ounce of credit for it--it's the brainchild of the wonderful Miss Lisa at school.

Basically, cut three sheets of scrapbook paper like so: one triangle (the roof), one intact square (the "inside"), one square (the façade) into which you also cut doors and windows, using, I'm guessing, an x-acto knife and an angled ruler.  Precision was not the key, and the result was some serious wonk--all the better when kiddos are doing the gluing and the final product is a haunted house.  Some kids used regular Elmer's (including one who made a glue pond while my head was turned--they're so fast!), others glue sticks, and spider confetti was available.  You must make one!

 In the background, a moment.

And off topic, I really love the second life of a bouquet of flowers.  The original arrangement in this case was beautiful (and, alas, unphotographed--a surprise from my husband, just because!), but once the rest of them started to wilt these few were rescued, I re-vased...and I think I like this one even a little bit better.  Nobody's going to confuse me with Eddie Ross, but I sure smile when I see them--like I cheated flower death and eked out another couple of days of walk-by happiness.

 Trick or treat!

moments I

So the official title is “Moments”—and since yesterday’s photos were of clean things (though I bared my imperfections in the text!), today I’ll share some of our life in its uncropped glory.  A disclaimer: I did edit these a bit—just to improve the composition & color (though it’s official—we’re in the market for a new camera).  And another one: I did clean up the table a little bit before we started, realizing that if we had a tidy place to work, I would feel more relaxed as we carved.  But worry not--you’ll still see our house living life.

Another kind of blog perfection that sometimes pokes at me a little bit is how much kiddos seem to love doing all the activities suggested and hosted by their moms.  Oftentimes, mine doesn’t.  I love crafting (obviously!) and Alex would rather do a lot of other things than crafts, or really, than whatever I want him to do at any particular moment—though of course, I’m never allowed to go to another room (that’s how I know he loves me!). 

Anyway, I imagine that in the perfect pumpkin carving post, the kids would be helping to trace the face onto the pumpkin, and then watching in awe as mom or dad deftly brought the jack-o-lantern to life.  Mine thinks pumpkin guts are gross and wanted to push buttons instead.

So we came up with bringing the keyboard over to the table, so he was with us, and it was fine.  We were together.

My real "moment" of the day?  Alex wanted to put the “hat” on the pumpkin.

So he did.

a peek into my fridge

Because I love it.  There are a few other inanimate objects around here that I really love, but in the kitchen, it's my fridge.  I love it because it's a really nice fridge, much nicer than any fridge I've ever had before, but also because it's clean.

When we got the fridge a few years ago, I promised myself that I would keep it clean by taking everything out once a month, pitching the junk, and wiping down all the shelves and drawers.  I actually do this process with the entire kitchen on the last Sunday of the month.  We get takeout for dinner so I don't have to mess up my entire kitchen after scrubbing it down, and now I even get some help from Alex, who takes all the condiments and then hands them back to me once I'm ready to replace them.  His price?  A maraschino cherry.

I share this not because I think you'll care so much about the inside of my fridge, but in light of this post by Amy at A Commonplace Life.  Actually, there was another related post this morning at Small Notebook--and I remember reading some others recently (maybe here?)--so the theme is running through the minds of a lot of bloggers (kind of like the field posts from earlier in the fall).  In short, the post discussed perfection (or its appearance)--Amy put it, "posting only the lovely"--in the blog world.

Besides the pressure to share posts (and in great part, the photos that go with them) that show something prettytidy, and extra-interesting, she also mentions that blogging has helped her to become more mindful about her life and her days, about noticing "the lovely"--and I've also experienced this in the short time I've been blogging.  I am more likely to stop and photograph--or at least think about--events that might seem mundane.  But my reality is that though my life never looks like this, which is OK with me (and the author would agree, I'd guess), so I do find myself styling photos I take for the blog.  For every breadboard with a homemade loaf, there were fabric scraps, index cars, and trains--and maybe even some crumbs--to be moved out of the way for the picture.

Yesterday, the fridge really did look like this; I didn't change anything.  But I would certainly hesitate to show you the scene behind me as I shot that photo (my husband is breathing a sigh of relief right now, I'm sure).  Because though we don't want to hold ourselves or our readers to an impossibly-high standard, let's face it, nobody wants to look at a picture of someone's dirty kitchen for its own sake.  And I suppose I could wonder, too, whether the contents of my fridge will be up for scrutiny (our brand of beer?  Store-bought bread?  Pop?  A fast-food product?  Non-organic eggs?).

I'm looking forward to the series Amy is thinking of starting, working title: "less-than-perfect" because I'm hoping it will help me focus some on what I guess my eventual goal is: to have just a couple of pairs of darling shoes on my stairs, and a hall that's clear of stuff when my little guy runs through.  I'm guessing Amy didn't share the photo to inspire any feelings of inadequacy--that'd be counter to her point?  What I mean is that it (and my fridge, clean but imperfect) represents to me the balance I'm trying to find: posting interesting things but showing them the way that they really are, keeping my house organized because I'm more relaxed and we live a better life when I do, dealing with the clutter made by making, putting aside the making and the cleaning to enjoy these wee years with my son, sharing with the outside world without worrying about judgment, and being glad (as Rachel reminds us) that my life is full enough to generate fabric scraps, index cards, and trains.