Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Same Bat Time ...

Finally, the tossing, turning, twitching has stopped, the vaporizer is bubbling away, Johnny Cash is telling us about a bear in the woods, and the little guy's breathing is getting slower and deeper.
I finished the third of a set of five finger puppets today, the lamb from Hello Kitty (oh, you didn't know there was a lamb? Neither did I, before this commission), so I have Hello Kitty, her sister Mimi, and the lamb (name unknown) finished, a bunny who still needs a hairbow, and then Keroppi, the frog, who still exists only in my mind (and select videos on youtube). Also tonight I am supposed to finish the doll my husband started. Overbooked, you say? Well, I wouldn't know anything about that.
In other big events, the little guy and I went for a walk around the "big block." The goal was the grocery store, but I was reminded that the "lollipop store" is closer, and, indeed, they had just what I needed for dinner, with the exception of kosher salt. Oh, well, can't have everything.
Tomorrow I'd like to get started on Valentine's Day, so here's hoping the small one succumbs soon, and I soon after.


Think if I sit here all night the little guy will stay asleep? I've gotten him back to sleep twice now, after (perhaps unwisely) putting him down somewhere between eight and eight-thirty (all I know is that I don't know if the Celtics won or not). I thought I might even get a shower in, so here I sit in my towel, waiting for him to fall deeply enough asleep that he'll stop tossing and turning and I won't have to worry about him falling off the bed for another, oh, ten minutes.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Today is an iffy day. Yesterday was sunny, and even hot if you sat out in the yard, say, picking dandelions for the jelly you intend to make with your mother and sister at some point before you move to Vermont, which move is getting closer and closer. Crunch time is looming. I have wild urges to pack, but no boxes. Our plans are still in limbo, although with the potential to solidify in short order if all goes well. Limbo is not my favorite place. It makes me feel anxious, with shortness of breath and a feeling of overload that borders on incapacitation.
Mint tea helps. And yoga. And breathing. But what will really help is being finally ready to move. Vermont ho!

Friday, March 5, 2010

I'm sitting here putting the boys to bed (yes, at eleven o'clock. So? It's Friday), and thought that maybe I could put a few thoughts down. Or not. It's hard to have thoughts, sometimes, when bookended by two boys who don't want to go to sleep. The little one is popping in and out of his blanket, declaring, "I'm NOT clean!" (whatever that means), and the big one is rolling around and breathing heavily - I kept him home from school today with a cold.
I had to make coffee tonight before bedtime - it's the only way I could hope to make it through and still have a chance of doing the dishes, which, yes, I should have done earlier, but didn't. (Pause for a cease-and-desist order to the big one, who is making gurgling noises out his nose - you're welcome.)
I've been pretty busy lately. On top of the daily (struggle for) routine, at which I may or may not be slowly improving, I have a few custom projects in the wings, and, of course, the ever-looming "get-your-shop-prepared-for-spring" push, mostly, at this point, relegated to a nagging voice in the back of my head. I hope by next fall to be at least a little prepared for seasonal changes in stock, but right now "seasonal changes" consist of sketching ideas, getting a thing or two done and photographed and up in the shop, and longing reading of the etsy monthly updates. Couldn't they send these things out six months ahead, for the procrastinators among us?
My latest completed project? Another mouse, this one a tiny pink ballerina. The tutu was interesting to construct - I looked for tutorials, but ended up having to adapt to the minuteness of the project with innovations of my own. Instead of cutting strips and tying them to an elastic band, which is, I gather, an accepted method of tutu construction, I made a tube out of several layers of tulle, ran a thin elastic cord through it, and tied it to fit the mousie waist. I'm rather pleased, if I do say so myself. I remember being very bothered, as a child, by doll clothes that couldn't be removed, and, as a result, ended up with a lot of naked dolls and grand intentions of sewing their deconstructed clothes back together.
I've neglected this post for a while, but I will end with a semi-related quote from Winston Churchill (well, it made sense to me):
"Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds t0 the joy and glory of the climb."

Thursday, February 11, 2010

New Stuff

I am pleased to announce the addition of a few new items in my shop.

For Valentine's Day, we have the Conversation Heart coaster.

This can be customized with the (very brief) slogan of your choice.

For the children among us, this Spouting Whale Beanbag.

Technically, this one is really a lentil bag, but that just sounds a little strange.

And finally, this little guy wandered in sometime this fall seeking shelter.

While I usually don't condone mice in the house, he was so cute, I let him stay, and even made him a sweater

to keep him warm in his travels to a new location.

Thursday, November 26, 2009

Out of the mouths of babes ...

This morning, I asked my almost-two-year-old, apropos of nothing, "What are you going to do to make the world a better place?"
He looked me straight in the eye and immediately replied, "Pasta!"

Friday, November 6, 2009

Extra! Extra! New Coffee Sleeve!

I made a new coffee sleeve.

We had flocks of butterflies in our yard this fall - they were so beautiful and delicate, hovering over those dandelion-like flowers that bloomed when I neglected to mow our lawn for a few weeks.
I have a sneaking suspicion that the lovely fluttering things are the mature version of something like a tomato or cabbage worm. Still, they were quite magical hovering in the yard.