capable of flying

What will the new year bring?

2012-01-30T08:48:00.000-08:00

We headed down to Chinatown to see some of the New Year's Celebrations. At the New Year, it is auspicious to offer something sweet, like oranges or donuts, to the dieties at the temple. It is also a good idea to have your fortune told.

This particular fortune teller is nothing if not thorough. I watched him check and re-check charts and take notes...

I hope he foresaw good luck!

Year of the dragon

2012-01-23T23:21:00.000-08:00

Prosperous and Happy Chinese New Year!

No going back.

2012-01-17T21:50:00.000-08:00

Learn.

Sign.

Go black.

Stop SOPA.

Stop PIPA.

Walk in the light!

2012-01-16T09:21:00.000-08:00

"Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness."

-Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

“We are all connected; To each other, biologically. To the earth, chemically. To the rest of the universe atomically.”

- Neil deGrasse Tyson

Let's play!

2011-12-26T16:34:00.000-08:00

I'll get back to work tomorrow...

...today, let's play!

Snow-- I mean, Sandball fight!

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

2011-12-25T16:14:00.000-08:00

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. - Isaiah 9:6

Peace be with you!

Vaclav Havel, 1936-2011

2011-12-24T08:09:00.000-08:00

Artist, humanist, revolutionary, peacemaker, president.

Hope is a state of mind, not of the world. Hope, in this deep and powerful sense, is not the same as joy that things are going well, or willingness to invest in enterprises that are obviously heading for success, but rather an ability to work for something because it is good...
...Work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed.

Apple 3.141592...

2011-12-23T13:41:00.000-08:00

Pie! So easy and so easy to get wrong! I ventured from my tried and true "Joy of Cooking" recipe, thinking the Internet knows better... I tried a highly touted recipe on Allrecipe.com... And instead of Mom's crust, I tried--on the insistence of the lady in the grocery store who insisted she knew these things--the Betty Crocker crust mix in the package... Pasty, gummy and no wear near enough for two nine-inch pie crusts...

So, what do we learn?

Pi = 4/1 -- 4/3 + 4/5 -- 4/7 + 4/9 + 4/11 + ...

Pie = Joy of Cooking's apple pie filling recipe + Mom's crust

All the candles lit!

2011-12-22T10:32:00.000-08:00

All the candles lit. All the cookies baked. All the presents are wrapped.

Alle Kerzen brennen. Alle Plätzchen sind gebacken. Alle Geschenke verpackt.

Just need to finish the dress and write the Christmas letter. Ugh.

Es bleiben nur noch das Weihnachtskleidchen nähen und Weihnachtspost schreiben. Uff.

I'm obsessing a little over my Christmas decorations this year: I picked up three old watercolor paintings of nisse or Tomte. Supposedly, these were used as the backdrop to a school play some fifty years or more ago somewhere in Sweden. One image depicts furnaces dancing around a Christmas tree, another shows nisse mocking a poor juicey goose and then this one...a nisse on a globe collecting cookies (?) or chocolates (?) from a cookie/chocolate spewing volcano? These backdrops are quirky and weird in equal measure and that is why I like 'em!

Diese Gemälde haben bei uns und heimgesucht und suchen mich entsprechend heim. Diese sind aus den 50ern aus einer schwedischen Grundschlue und sollen angeblich die Kulissen aus einem Theaterstück gewesen sein. Die Motiven sind Nissen bzw. Tomte, die jeweils die armen Weihnachtsgänse anlachen, kekseausspeienden und tanzenden Heizöfen feuern (?) und dies oben, wo ein Nisse auf der Weltkugel steht und Kekse (?) Schokolade (?) aus einem Volkan sammelt. Die Motive sind gleichermassen sowohl sonderbar als auch charmant und sie gefallen mir deswegen. Wenn jemand die Geschichte kennt, würde ich mich sehr freuen diese zu wissen!

Okay...wieder an die Arbeit!

Squirrelly!

2011-12-14T23:46:00.000-08:00

So, it rained the other day. One benefit of Southern California sunshine, is that with rain, we usually get a rainbow in the deal. I run outside--avec camera--toward late afternoon to see if the miracle of refraction has happened yet again. And look what rolls by! A "make love, not war" hippie car! Nutty.

Also geregnet hatte es. Ein zusätzlicher Zuschuß aus der südkalifornischen Sonnenschein ist das Refraktionsnebenprodukt aus dem Regen. Ergo laufe ich samt Photo zum Vorgarten auf Regenbogenjagt. Jawohl: entsprechende Refraktion. Aber dennoch fährt ein happy Hippie "make love, not war" Benz mir entgegen? Na, sowas!

And speaking of nutty. It is 3rd Advent already! And I have a present for you: Squirrelly! "Squirrelly" is defined as "eccentric and restless". If you are one or the other or both, perhaps you would like to make one of these!

Na sowas zum 2.: Schon 3. Advent. Und ich habe ein Geschenk für Dich... Squirrelly! "Squirrelly" bedeutet "ekzentrisch und rastlos". Solltest Du entweder eins oder beides sein, vielleicht möchtest Du auch ein Squirrelly nähen.

.
Squirrelly is a little plush pattern that is my gift to you!

Squirrelly ist ein Kuscheleichhörnchenschnittmuster und mein Geschenk an Dich,

Squirrelly can be stitched together using a few scraps. Wool or Eco felt works nicely, too.

Squirrelly kann aus Stoffresten genäht werden. Woll- bzw. Eco-Filz geht auch.

(Frech habe ich das Bild oben mit Nics Photoprojekt verlinkt. Mache doch mit!).

Squirrelly stands on his own: If you fill him partially with lead weight or pebbles, Squirrelly makes a dandy fine bookend.

Squirrelly steht von alleine. Wenn dieses doch mit Steinchen bzw. Blei gewichtet ist, dient Squirrelly auch als Bücherstütze.

Yes, this is my gift to you! You may download the pattern and instructions below. Pattern sheets are uploaded individually. I'm not that PDF-savvy to get them all onto one file without changing the size.

Pattern page/Schnittmusterbogen 1
Pattern page/Schnittmusterbogen 2
Pattern page/Schnittmusterbogen 3

Step-by-step photo tutorial ENGLISH

(Wait for it...wait...big file...)

Ja, mein Geschenk an Dich! Hier darfst Du herunterladen. Das Schnittmuster besteht aus drei Seiten, die ich nicht zusammen in einer Datei zusammenkriege...

Photoanleitung DEUTSCH

(Warte...warte...kommt's...große Datei...)

Und sollte ich etwas ganz krummes ("Deutsch für Fortgeschrittene/German for Runaways") übersetzt habe, sage bitte bescheid: Ich korregiere's unverzüglich :)

What, you didn't get me anything? That's okay, you'll just have to pay for your Squirrelly pattern.

Yes, you'll have to pay for it.

But you decide how much and when.

Just pay it forward. Any bit of goodwill anywhere will do, for example...

Help someone carry their packages into the post office.
Let another car in ahead of you in traffic.
Let your spouse think he won the argument.
Apologize.
Forgive.
Run an errand for an elderly neighbor.
Treat the kids in the carpool to ice cream.
Scrape off the snow and ice from your neighbor's car windows, too.
Remember, there but for the grace of God go you.
Donate your time.
Refrain from leaving a snarky comment (no matter how very witty) somewhere on the Internet.
Shop your local independent retailers.
Plant a tree.
Consider the amount of forced labor that went into making a new piece of electronics or clothing, then reconsider your purchase.
Take public transportation or walk instead.
Ask for donations to your favorite charity instead of Christmas gifts.
Offer to babysit for the new mom on the street, if only for an hour of "me time."
Donate the books you've already read to a shelter or prison.
Give someone the benefit of the doubt.
If you buy something on sale you were planning on buying anyway, donate the difference in price to charity.
Share everything--waste nothing.
Offer help to a returning veteran.
Do the next right thing.
Love.

I'm sure there's something you can think of. I'd love to hear what it might be! And if you'd like to share your Squirrelly on the "Sewing Clothes Kids Love" flickr group page, well that would be just grand, too!

Winter white (SoCal style)

2011-12-08T13:32:00.001-08:00

Go 'head! Join in the photo project fun at Luziapimpinella!

Playing tag

2011-12-01T12:59:00.001-08:00

Warning: These images contain happy words and thoughts. Do not be encouraged or think happy thoughts upon reading these messages. These messages do not have the approval of the City of Hermosa Beach.

The City of Hermosa Beach has recently taken a strong stand against chalk tagging. As well they should. The Hermosa Beach police department is conducting an investigation into the perpetrators of such chalk tagging, conducting interviews with possible witnesses and so on. It appears that the culprit(s) randomly chalk happy words and pictures without prior approval. Never mind that the messages are of happiness and encouragement and joy, we simply cannot allow people to continue to spread happiness in public. Happy words and thoughts require prior approval. Furthermore, chalk is a gateway to more damaging forms of graffiti, like spray paint. Never mind that chalk disappears on its own in about three days and perhaps one would choose chalk over spray paint for exactly that reason. Chalk is gateway. Period. Like drinking water is a gateway to swilling vodka. Water balloons? Gateway to molotov cocktails. And research has proven conclusively, that every smoker of crack cocaine started with breathing air. So best to close up these graffiti gateways before things get entirely out of hand.

Chalk, furtherfurthermore, is dusty. The chalk dust could get on someone's clothes or shoes, even their hair (if they really tried).

The miles of very fine sand on the other side of this wall could also make its way into someone's clothes or shoes or hair...but that is entirely beside the point. There is a world of difference between chalk dust and beach sand. There is. I mean it.

This must be stopped.

The Hermosa Beach police thus far have no suspects. The similarity between this random person's tattoo and the happy hugging heart is entirely coincidental.

Please remain vigilant against happy thoughts or any desires to randomly express happy thoughts in Hermosa Beach. Especially you, Random Person.

Thanks

2011-11-26T22:27:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving, dear friends! I hope you had a happy and healthy holiday.

This year, for Thanksgiving, I came up with a brilliant idea. My brilliant idea was this: Most of my neighbors down toward this end of the street were staying home for the holiday and did not have family coming to visit. But all were planning to make a big ol' meal. Big meals lead to leftovers, so my thought was, I'd have all my neighbors over for a big leftover potluck on the Friday right after Thanksgiving. Brilliant. They all said they'd come by. I cleaned, shopped, rearranged furniture, polished glasses, pulled weeds, bought flowers, baked three extra desserts, cooked four extra game hens, bought ice, dropped into the Salvation Army several times over the past weeks to hopefully scrounge up half-way presentable serving dishes...you know the routine when you expect lots of company.

I expected around 20 people. And 2 showed. After they left, I was left with the Nancy from Seventh Grade lunchroom, in assigned seating at a table where none of the other girls liked me. They had every reason not to like me: I came from a different school. And I was weird. It was entertaining to natter and titter and chuckle behind their peanutbutter-and-jelly-on-Wonderbread at my expense. For them. Less entertaining for me...

"It was a fantastic party, Mommy! Everything looked great!"

"But nobody came," I said.

"Well, it was their loss. They missed out. It was the best party."

Who is this little girl?

"You need to be more confident, Mommy. You're great!"

Who is this little child? She is so young, so little compared to other girls her age. And so...wise..? So very wise.

Every last run to the grocery store, every moment spent dusting and polishing and vacuuming, every embarrassed "oops, sorry I missed it..." text I got the next day, was worth this very moment looking into my girl's big brown eyes. I am so very thankful.

Anna relayed to me recently, that some kid at school asked her why she dressed "that way," why she dressed "weird."

She answered (without missing a beat), "Because I am awesome. And because I am awesome, my clothes need to be awesome." (If you could only picture the great amount of sass, what we call "Annatude," that Anna put into this statement...). I don't dress her, haven't for years: She picks out her own outfits every morning and she has plain jeans and t-shirts from which to choose. Inevitably, she's got on crazy colorful knee socks, high tops, a fluffy patchwork skirt, a shirt of ten different colors...well, you know how I sew... As my girl approaches middle school age, I worry greatly that something--such as Seventh Grade lunchroom girls--will come along to kill this spirit, douse this sparkle, tarnish her shine, diminish her giant radiating aura, deflate her natural happiness. I hope she continues to be her own person, follow her own quirky drumbeat. I really do.

This is a new little outfit for her: A pair of Cardiff pants and the shirt is a bit Frankenstein...Quiara and Antonia, I believe... The knits are from Banberry Place. Just luscious stuff.

Daughter of invention

2011-11-15T11:29:00.001-08:00

My girl invents things. Yes, she calls these innovations "inventions". Her inventions include "the Melon Cat". A melon, which is also a cat. Or "the Box Bunny". A bunny, which is also a box. And there is "Sue" and "Mini Sue"-- winged, monocular creatures with no legs and arms, but bow-tied head-tentacles. And so on. The practical uses of these inventions have yet to be discovered. Frederick DeMoleyns, J.W. Starr and Joseph Swan, who all held patents for incandescent electric light bulbs decades before Thomas Alva Edison declared, "I have just solved the problem of the subdivision of electric light!" can perhaps relate. So, we'll give Ninja Cats and Ninja Mushrooms a little more time before society and technology catch up. Anna keeps here inventions logged here, in a securely locked Hello Kitty diary.

For now, these new inventions do a fine job of watching over Anna as she sleeps. This painting is an original 1970s "Armantino" (ooh la la!), a study in yellow and white, which is a metaphor of the bleak landscape of America's post-Viet Nam War jaundiced red/white Cold War worldview. Or served as a bright focal point and picks up the floral tones in the 1974 Barcalounger of the Year. Yep, "B" is probably the correct answer. Notice the signature: Anna and I have added ours: Anna traced her inventions and I painted them in.

Yes, my girl inspires me. Another big source of inspiration is Farbenmix, which celebrates seven years!! A cupcake toast to you Team Farbenmix (from Cupcake Couture, winners of the "Cupcake Wars"... territory, resources, water, religion, oil, and now cupcakes? Do we humans have to go to war over cupcakes? After having had a taste of a heavenly concoction of Salted Carmel something-or-other, well, I may have to reevaluate my pacifist tendencies...)

Happy Birthday, Farbenmix!

Grausam

2011-11-03T09:34:00.000-07:00

"Grausam": That's German for "dreadful" and "atrocious" and all manner of description of misery. The root word is "grau" as in the color "grey." (I wonder what etymological leap those Teutons or Visigoths or Saxons had to take to make such neutral grey so horribly "grausam.") Grey is generally featureless, dull, something neither black nor white. But, in reality, that is most of our reality, isn't it? Concrete surrounds us, haze and clouds diffuse and obscure what is plain to see. Each action we take, according to Newton, has an equal, opposite and collinear reaction. Every decision, every good intention has a dot of black, the yin and the yang swirling into it's resolute blend of grey. Our greatest advances, conveniences and technologies have devastating consequences. Grey is where one must be most aware of the details and the textures of things, actions and decisions. It is the land of ambiguity, charted, but not navigated by William Golding in Lord of the Flies. Ambiguity bothers us: it requires us to think, to decide between easier, more right, more wrong, most best, less worst, knowing full well that the equal, opposite and collinear reaction is pretty bad, too. We demand that our politicians have laser-like abilities to discern the black molecules from the white molecules and never offend, never inconvenience, never waiver, never impose, never give up, never give in, never concede, when society can really only operate with but the greying cataracts of our limited vision. Grey is the dust that settles after the bomb explodes, it is the ash remaining from the burning of books, it is the bit of bone left remaining after the hunt. But grey is the soothing fog that gently hydrates, the hair at grandmother's temple, the stones on the stoop of the place that is most home.

And today, Frau Pimpinella is asking us to post our greyest images.

Stopover in an airport before dawn: Neither day nor night, neither here nor there.

After our visit to Beijing, I feel a great deal of ambiguity about the Middle Kingdom. Much is good there: In the past decade, China lifted the greatest number of people out of poverty in the history of mankind. But at what cost? This is brand-new, gleaming glass, grey and steel shopping mall in Beijing, absolutely devoid of any shoppers. This shopping mall is so empty the store clerks leave their shops unattended to play badminton in the echoing halls.

The grey zone of progress in Beijing: The spectacular high rise office and condominium buildings are constructed by workers, very often peasants from the provinces, who live in shanties on site.

Trick or...off with your head!

2011-11-01T12:24:00.000-07:00

Jack-O!

And Jack-O's friend, Scarclops. Scarclops, I'm afraid, met with some disfavor with our resident regent...

And his cranial safety was never assured, not with the Queen of Heart's favorite, um, motivational tool being the ax.

Hope your Halloween was happy, too!

Imma be a little late

2011-10-30T19:31:00.000-07:00

What is this? What this is not is the costume we looked at on Ebay, decided was perfect, was only $50, purchased and arrived on time on Friday. Nope, it's not that. Not at all. Because the costume wasn't quite perfect. Wasn't quite Anna. ("Oh, that's okay, Mommy, I'll wear it...it's fine...really...no big deal..." Dang it, child! Don't look at me with those big brown eyes! I know it's not what we expected. I'm going! I'm going! I still have two days. We'll snip and clip and stitch and glue and improvise something that is totally Anna.)

What this is also not is last year's Halloween costume. This was last year's Halloween costume. Queen Bee with a beehive hairdo with lots of bees buzzing about.

Black fuzzy fur and yellow polyester!

(I'd only heard that Black Eyed Peas song "Imma Be" about three times. At three times, a Black Eyed Peas song is really catchy, really fun. At five times a Black Eyed Peas song becomes nothing but irritating. "Imma be livin' that good life...Imma be livin' that good, good life..." I'm annoying myself...)

And a honey bear scepter.

Do not look to closely at this thing once it's done. And I better get back to work. How 'bout you?

Thinking Peking

2011-10-25T23:15:00.000-07:00

It's getting chilly near the shore these days, so we felt like some tea from China with a bit of orange blossom honey from Temecula. This is my "Peking duck," picked up in Peking. The little cheese board and cups are from the thrift store. The cheese board is just perfect for nesting this duck.

Like I've said before, there's no real way to know it this tea pot picked up at a Chinese flea market is a real antique or not. But Chinese flea markets are not the only ones good at a little fang gu. This painting is a "Lee Reynolds" work I picked up on Craigslist. While it is a real "Lee Reynolds" painting, it isn't. Lee Reynolds allowed his signature to be reproduced onto thousands of Vanguard Studios paintings in the 1970s. He painted a few by his own hand, but, well, what are the chances this was one of them? It's not fine art, but it's fine enough for me. Reynolds-schmendolds: This Craigslist treasure brought some fall color into the house.

Flea markets, the thrift store and Craigslist have been good to me!

Peking/Beiging...reminisce...reminisce...

First off, I kind of love this old bike outfitted with a seat on the back. That younger feller there rode this bike with one of the elderly gentleman on the back to this game of dominoes.

And I kind of love these milk containers. Very popular in China. And the porcelain mugs are recycled. Very efficient.

And "reminisce" is a funny word to me right now...spelled funny and stuff..."reminisce"...

Carry on!

Mad Ma'am

2011-10-19T09:43:00.000-07:00

Gettin' my groovy on on the back porch.

I picked up this art at a very eclectic place a lot of artists frequent. Okay, it was the Salvation Army.

And this is true, I can't make this up: When I bought this lamp at the Salvation Army thrift store, the clerk wrapped it up in adult diapers. I guess she figured that anyone who would purchase this lamp would not be embarrassed by walking through the parking lot with a ball of adult diapers swinging on a chain.

This one's easy.

2011-10-18T09:46:00.000-07:00

Sign the petition.

Easy.

I'm looking a little bit beyond my shores today.

This petition is to intended to motivate CNN to report on an orphanage in Haiti, which is allegedly participating in human trafficking and harvesting of human organs from the children in their care. Trafficking of children. Organ harvesting from children. Hell on earth. The allegations come from mission workers, who have visited the orphanage.

Frankly, I do not use this blog to encourage much organized social action, because most times I cannot vouch for the many causes and charities I come across. There is a lot of bad being done in the name of good out there, so I am very cautious.

But this is simple: Children's Hope Chest isn't asking for your money. The organizers just want your signature to motivate CNN to investigate the situation at an orphanage in Port au Prince, Haiti. CNN should be savvy enough to recognize if this is a cruel hoax of some sort. And then CNN can shine their brutal investigative light on the organizers of this petition. In other words, if I were up to something shady, the last people I'd want to contact would be the folks at CNN. On the other hand, CNN would be the first people I'd think of who have the resources and reputation to shine some light on what appears to be a dangerous situation.

Perhaps the allegations are exaggerated. Perhaps they are entirely fabricated. But if there is even a one-in-a-million chance that even some of the allegations are true, then a little investigative attention from an international media organization might just help some children. And if CNN doesn't decide to grab their cameras and reporters on this one, perhaps maybe, just maybe, 10, 20, 100 or 10,000 more blog posts and Facebook links on the orphanage in question may motivate the operators of this orphanage to stop whatever abuses they may be condoning or in which they actively participate. If any.

I don't know the organizers personally, but someone I do know knows them personally. Andy Blank runs an IT company in San Diego and is an organizer of a local charitable soccer tournament. A stand-up citizen with a reputation at stake. Here is the email I received:

Good morning – This is Andy and I am writing this email to you as my friend - and I think you can help make a difference. This is not some gimmick or spam email.

I am writing you this quick and slightly impersonal email because there is an urgency to a dire situation that I am involved in. Over the last 15 months I have been involved in an investigation into corruption at an orphanage in Haiti. The investigation has reached a boiling point and we are at a crossroads where the children lives are in danger. As a coalition of several organizations , we are reaching out to CNN to turn a spotlight on this horrible situation in an attempt to rescue about 75 children from becoming a victim of human/organ trafficking.

These are kids that I KNOW and have spent time with – this is VERY personal to me.

Besides CNN we are reaching out to US politicians, major media outlets and people who could have influence in helping to free these children. Please let me know about any extremely influential contacts you have – we have prepared a packet of information that can be sent.

Children’s Hope Chest started this petition to get CNN involved with the story at Son of God orphanage to help us out. Please have EVERYONE you know sign this petition. It only takes a minute and I have posted the direct link to it below.

Here is more information and a link to the petition.

So that's an easy one.

This one's not so easy, but worth a look: What is your slavery footprint? When you buy shoes or toys or clothes or a new cell phone, how are you to know if your purchase is the product of forced or debt-burdened labor? Here is a Web site to roughly gauge how much slave labor has contributed to your lifestyle. Apparently, 30 slaves have worked for me, mostly in the mining of raw materials and manufacture of all these electronic gadgets. 3.2 slaves per smart phone? Ugh. I've benefitted from the labor of 7 more slaves than average. That can't be good.

As we ramp up for the holiday season and we do the most amount of shopping we will all year, perhaps we can ask the question: "Say, GAP or Canon or Anthropologie or Pottery Barn, can you please tell me how much forced labor was involved in making this? It's important for me to know." It would be interesting to see if they can answer. Supposedly, there is a slavery footprint cell phone app that will allow the user to photograph an item and send a message to the manufacturer with an inquiry. I wonder if it's that easy.

And there'll be dancin'...dancin' in the streets!

2011-10-10T19:21:00.000-07:00

...Dancin' in Chicago
Down in New Orleans
In New York City...

...Philadelphia P.A., Baltimore and D.C now,
Can't forget the motor city,

...Way down in L.A. ...
I don't know how Martha and every last Vandella forgot to mention Beijing, because dancing in the streets is something Beijingers know how to do.

I'm not entirely sure what this thing is. But it is magic.

It's comprised of blankets and wires and two wheels and cables and speakers and bungee cords and a car battery. And out of this thing comes music.

Or rather, Chinese pop music, which, face it, is just marginally music. Very catchy marginal music nonetheless. At any rate, this thing is magic because it makes people dance. Complete strangers of every age and every dancing ability walzing and tango-ing with one another. In broad daylight in a public park!

"Happy Friday." See? The writing on her t-shirt? "Happy Friday!"

Playa. That's all that comes to mind: He a playa, y'all.

Cinderella's stepsisters, maybe?

The magic spreads all over the alleé and protects the ladies' handbags, which they hang, unguarded in the surrounding trees.

If Chinese pop is not your thing, you are welcome to sing classical Chinese songs along to this gentleman's fiddle playing.

And this is the Catholic basilica in Beijing, the Cathedral of Immaculate Conception. The present building dates to 1904, but the foundations go back to the 1600s. It is the seat of the Bishop of China, chosen by the Chinese Patriotic Catholic Church and approved by the Vatican. Usually, the Vatican prefers to choose their own bishops, but, well, you know, it's China, so, well, yeah, ulletenus (that's Latin for "whatever"). One immaculate concept that this particular church has is nightly line dancing. Again, the old, the young and anyone in between line dancing. I think it is a blessed thing indeed.

And this photo doesn't fit in, but well, I like it and it was taken the same night.

Thank you, Mr. Jobs.

2011-10-05T18:01:00.000-07:00

Your vision for technology has improved my life and made many things possible for me.

You will be missed.

Steve Jobs, 1955-2011

Yes, it is Great.

2011-10-05T15:38:00.000-07:00

One highlight of our time in China was a bike ride and hike to the Great Wall (or "Long Wall" as the folks in China know it).

This wall is long, estimated to be about 5,000 miles/8,800 km long, including all the bits of trenches and piles of stones along the way (5,000 miles is the equivalent of driving from Los Angeles to Myrtle Beach and back). And it is not one wall, but a series of walls and other fortifications intended to keep out different nomadic raiders. We didn't run into any nomadic raiders, so I'd say the Great Wall works.

Since this wall is 5,000 miles long, there are about 5,000 places to visit this wall. We went to spot called "Gold Soup". I think it is the Jinshanling section mentioned in Lonely Planet. Very thankfully, it was rather lonely indeed that day. Except for one Singapore business man and two Dutch backpackers, we basically had these miles of the Great Wall completely to ourselves.

This bit of the Great Wall is very near a river with lots of fresh trout.

This family has a little house next to the river with their own trout pond. They supply fish to the little restaurants on the road. That was the very best meal of our whole trip: Trout pulled from the stream and cooked up with mushrooms, pepper leaves and whatever else. I have no idea. But very delicious.

Here, is one curious local saying hello to Anna.

Now this is different: This is a window at a little inn. The little door is a place in the wall directly beneath the bed. The innkeeper will place a warm coal in this little door to warm the bed on cold nights.

I have no idea what this says. But about ten feet away, sitting underneath a bush is an ancient little old mountain lady wielding a wicked-looking farm tool. We paid her ten kaui, just a few cents really, to pass. Maybe she keeps the raiding Mongols out. She's done a good job, so she is certainly due her money.

A beaten path off the beaten path.

Perhaps part of the reason this part of the Great Wall is lonely, is that you need to cross this bridge.

Fire crackers to scare away the evil spirits! The Chinese invented gun powder, so their fire crackers are pretty potent. And we didn't encounter any ill-willed spirits, so all's good!

Great Wall grafitti. And I'm still thinking about, too...

Jack's "The One" (think Matrix).

Great mystery: They sky in Beijing and the environs is ... well ... different. Upon approach to the Beijing airport, I looked out the window and couldn't see Beijing through the cloud (?) cover. As we descended, I kept waiting to see an outline of, well, anything. I was completely taken by surprise by the sudden thud of terra firma under the gear. And I was still waiting to see something, anything, my first "thing" in China. Aha! There: some kind of tower structure. And the airport itself? Maybe we are on some really distant runway. No? Oh, it's right there. Okay, so it's fog? No, not fog: It was about 85 degrees out. Is it smog? I live in Los Angeles: I know smog. Smog is a grey, grimey layer that hovers over downtown. There is a top to it and sort of even a bottom. You can get above the smog. This milky white hazy stuff is not like that. Our entire time we were there, almost a month, except in the morning as it rose, we never saw the sun. It was sunny, but there was no sun. It was hot, but shade was not present. Fog? Smog? Haze? What is this stuff? Pollution? Really? In gloppy clouds that you can photograph miles out into the countryside? (I know what you're thinking--"Nancy, clean your stupid lens"--but the lens is clean (or clean enough). Some new kind of sky, I suppose.

Barnum & Bailey...Gilbert & Sullivan...Gumby & Pokey...Lavern & Shirley...Dolce & Gabbana...Sundance Kid & Butch Cassidy...Abbott & Costello...Rogers & Astair...Ernie & Bert...

2011-09-28T14:03:00.000-07:00

...Spongebob & Patrick...

And so on and so on...

"Me and Jenny goes together like peas and carrots." - Forrest Gump (1994)

Why can't I post more often? I have plenty to post! It's because of the disposal. I won't do anything until I install the new disposal. How hard can that be? A wrench, a screwdriver, a basic knowledge of plumbing and electricity...all of which I don't have--yet. I am waiting until all these things fall magically from the sky. And then I will have a working disposal! That's the plan right now.

Okay, yes, I am in a little place of inertia. I have five new designs in front of me, each of which I need to tweak. I mean, TWEEEEEEAAAK. Fine-tune what's way outta tune. Retrace, recut, restitch, rethink, resketch, rinse, repeat, retrace...Oh look! Something shiny. I'm a bit too easily distracted.

Huh? Oh, hello! You're still there. Okay, I'll post some about something that was just about the coolest thing to have happened this past summer. A summit meeting of sorts: Reagan/Gorbachov, Eisenhower/Khrushchev/De Gaulle, and Luzi and Anna!

It was so AWESOME (awesoemaweseomawesomesawsome) to meet Nic (Nic, yes, you know; Luziapimpinella-Nic!) personally and spend time with her family. "Family"... having just written that word, yeah, okay, I'll throw it out again: Meeting Nic was like meeting family. Hello, yes, we've just met, but, well, a handshake won't do. C'mon bring it in for the hug, cousin! Anyway, on the Hildebrandt family tour of the California, Cousin Nic stopped by our neck of the Golden State.

And what is Nic really like? I don't need to tell you; you already know. She really, really is like that! Happy and loving and creative and full of energy and color and sparkle. Just follow the energy and color and the sound of a camera shutter and there's Nic. And she's a cheap drunk. Okay, okay, let me explain: "Cheap drunk" to me means someone, who doesn't need a lot to get them inspired or happy or motivated--"intoxicated," if you will. Nic can get excited at the littlest things, the littlest bit of graffiti or a rusty neon sign or a little sea shell. It's infectious. And so fun to be around. And an inspiration. A beautiful person inside and out.

Come on back, anytime, Nic. You're family.

Of fang gu and flea markets

2011-09-20T19:45:00.000-07:00

The weeks fly by, don't they? School has started and so has the homework and the lunches and the backpacks and the gym uniforms and the carpools. Soccer is in full swing and I'm refereeing again (I'm getting to like the power. Heady stuff). And I'm psyching myself up for Halloweenthanksgivingchristmasnewyearseve looming right there on the horizon. But I had time today to think back on the beautiful summer that just passed. I have one post that I definitely owe you, about a very wonderful visit I had his summer. But I need to give that some time and thought. So, today, back to China and one of most of y'all's favorite pastimes: Flea marketing.

The story of China, the very beginning of the story, the one that resonates in the Chinese consciousness (or so I understand from the couple of books I've read), is not a beginning at all, but a continuation. The Shang Dynasty of about 1766-1122 BC, which has the oldest written history of China, is known as the "second dynasty". There always seems to have been a "something before" that was China. All together, something like four or five or six thousand years of linear, continuous China. So, China is old, really old. But Mao Zedong, wanting to leap greatly forward and create a fully new society, attempted, from 1966 to about 1976, to force his vision of a New China into reality by, among other things, sending out his Red Army to destroy every bit of ancient and antique pottery, embroidery, furniture, calligraphy, statuary, porcelain and painting the Red Army could get their Revolutionary hands on. Museums and cultural sites were burned to the ground. Many people destroyed their family heirlooms for fear of being horribly punished if caught possessing them. Many aspects of traditional Chinese culture, such as calligraphy, painting, kite-making and so on, ground to a halt and have since lost much of their prominence in daily life and customs.

Although today's Chinese government remains firmly on the Mao-Zedong-was-great-for-the-Chinese side of the argument (in fact, there is no argument), even the current government admits there may have been one or two excesses at the time, publicly admitting that the destruction of cultural sites, heirlooms, antiques and customs was maybe one of Mao's less than totally awesome ideas. Today, in a flip of the cultural integrity coin, the Chinese government is trying to reign in the bleeding of cultural things from the land. In an attempt to keep China's rich cultural history for the Chinese people, it is illegal today for any foreigner to own and/or take any cultural relic out of the nation. Previously, anything made before 1911, the end of the Qing Dynasty, would have been illegal to remove from China. Today, any item of "cultural significance" cannot belong to a foreigner. Technically, anything culturally of any significance "belongs to the Chinese people" and is therefore subject to confiscation. So, "culturally significant", eh? That's pretty broad. Even an original 1970s alarm clock graced with Mao's cherubic face might be considered culturally significant for the Revolution by the signifying powers-that-be (more on that later). Therefore, as a foreigner looking for flea market or antique items, you will be coming across either illegal-to-own, culturally insignificant or, most likely, fang gu things. Fang gu, colloquially, means "fake". Most of what you will find readily available will be fang gu. Maybe 90%. Maybe 100%. But don't discount the fang gu off hand. This fake stuff is some of the best fake stuff in the world. The experts at the most prestigious art institutes in the world have been fooled (and perhaps they still are). The lengths to which the pros will go to fake an item are often amazing: Soaking things in animal urine to achieve a certain patina (smelling things helps to indicate to sellers that you've been around the block...or at least the Internet), burying items in the ground, even adding radioactive chemicals to a glaze to fool possible age-determining thermoluminesence laboratory tests.

So, still knowing all that, I went ahead and spent some time at a few flea markets. And if I saw something I liked, I went ahead and haggled. Because, c'mon: Look at this stuff! Whether "real" or really real, this stuff is awesome. I want some. I'll post the treasures I brought home in another post.

I really, really wanted all three of these acupuncture mannequins. I don't have any acupuncture mannequins! I must have acupuncture mannequins! My kids said, "No. No acupuncture mannequins." So, I still don't have any acupuncture mannequins. *hmpf*

Panjiayuan "antiques" market.

Calligraphy supply seller, Luilichang cultural street, Beijing.

Lordy, I love that painting. I could kick myself for not buying it.

Here, an artisan carves a chop. A chop is a unique stone stamp with the characters of your name that you would use to sign something. This young fellow is getting his first chop.

A lucky cricket hanging in a basket chirps to bring happiness to this store.

Birds in bamboo cages are popular. Some people walk around with them.

On the Luilichang cultural street, Beijing.

What I particularly enjoy about China is the sport of haggling. Most prices in most places are really flexible. Really, really, really flexible. Just about as flexible as the date to which an "antique" item should (or can) be attributed. And just how flexible you can make the price go--in both directions before reaching a comfortable position for both parties--is the game. And it is a game. And in that regard, it should be fun. Some tips for haggling are this: Let the merchant start and name a price. Then smile and walk away either giving them the impression that 1) they have insulted you with such a ridiculously high price or 2) that you don't want to insult them with a counter offer that would be too low. The merchant will follow you and indicate to name your price on a calculator. Okay, okay, I'll give him a price, just to humor him. I start at about one-quarter of his starting price. He'll steadfastly say, "no" and enter a price just below his starting price, only because "he thinks I am a nice person" or "my children are beautiful". I smile and walk away again, saying something like, "See? I didn't want to insult you. But that is what I can afford". He'll follow me again and hand me the calculator. I enter a price that is no more than 30% of his original price. And that is where I will stay until he walks away. And he won't. And if he won't walk away, then he's happy with the price. He's happy, I'm happy. Happy people all around. Depending on how long this takes, very often a small crowd of people will form. Folks here are not shy. This is street theater and seeing as how I stuck out like a sore thumb anyway, I tried to give the audience a good show with lots of arm gestures and exaggerated expressions of incredulity. Frankly, I'll never know if the "last price" was the best or even a fair price for this or that trinket. But when do I ever know when I am shopping anywhere for anything? This haggling over a "real" antique feels actually a bit more honest than spending hundreds of dollars on a pair of jeans at the mall that are supposed to transport me to the lifestyle depicted on the posters mounted on the walls. I'd rather pay too much to this little man on the street who looks me in the eye than to some amalgam of retail marketing triggers.

What about you?

Hello yellow!

2011-09-02T13:26:00.000-07:00

China's go-to color is red. It's symbolic meaning, derived from the element of fire, is joy and good fortune. Do you want wealth and happiness to come through your front door? Paint it red and let the feng shui do its thing. Plus, what's Communism without red? Other colors just don't pack the same power-to-the-proletariat punch. Go ahead: Try and start a global revolution in any other color. Mauve? Turquoise? Heliotrope? It won't get off the ground. Even though a good 7% of the men you'd want to mobilize are color blind and cannot even see red in its crimson glory, it's the color to go with.

Yellow, however, comes in a close second in China. Traditionally, the Chinese view yellow as the most beautiful color. It symbolizes the earth and generates both Yin and Yang. Yellow is the color once reserved for the royal family. The roof tiles of the Forbidden City and other imperial abodes are yellow.

In Buddhism, yellow represents freedom from earthly bounds and is the color of mourning in China.

Nic of Luziapimpinella gave us some photographic homework to close out the summer. She said, give me some yellow. This is some yellow I saw.

You can join in the fun, too!

Yellow fire devouring incense offerings to the Buddha and releasing them from their earthly bonds.

"Yellow has the highest symbolic value in Buddhism through its link with the saffron robes of monks. This color, previously worn by criminals, was chosen by Gautam Buddha as a symbol of his humility and separation from materialist society. It thus signifies renunciation, desirelessness, and humility. Yellow is the color of earth, and thus a symbol of rootedness and the equanimity of the earth."

And a yellow backpack! And see the close-up of the matching Che Guevara polo shirts? Voted Cutest Communist Couple!

Yellow was the color reserved for the royal family and China's most legendary emperors and empresses were adorned at least partially in the most beautiful color. While visiting historic sites, it is popular for tourists to rent imperial costumes and pose for the family photo album...

...but this cheeky fellow upstaged the empress, don'tcha think?

A yellow garbage truck. I mean, garbage "trike".

Yellow joss sticks to offer to the Buddha.

A yellow man-fan.

Hello yellow Hello Kitty! Pretty girl with a yellow bag takes a pretty cell phone photo.

Yellow public telephone.

Yellow imperial roof tiles. The more critters you could have lined up at each corner of your roof, the higher your status in the Middle Kingdom.

Yellow shirt! Yellow dragon! Photographing the photographing.

Local greasy spoon (or oily wok?) set up on old yellow desk. These folks are good at improvising.

A yellow swirl of street art.

Beautiful blushing bride wears yellow.

Wait for it...

There. See it? The yellow writing? It says "Jimmy loves Suzy forever". Or close enough.

So, what yellow said hello in your world recently?

Beijing Textures

2011-08-29T13:14:00.000-07:00

Face Book

2011-08-28T04:13:00.000-07:00

China really does block Facebook and Blogger. Not officially, but whatever. But we're back and I'm back to blogging. What to say? I wish I had a cargo trike. And the sky is like milky haze. People carry around birds in cages. And they line dance, everybody line dances. Or walzes. Grannies practice tai chi with swords. That's right: Grannies with swords. There are these little restaurants that fish for your dinner right out of the stream: It's that fresh. And ... and ... there is so much, just so much that is China. I was there, but I don't know where. And I only understand, "xie xie", "zao an", "fa piao", "nie hou" and the numbers "yi" to "yi ban". I don't understand, so I guess I can only start little by little to understand you, China. One person at a time. And your people are beautiful.

If you insist...

2011-07-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

Jack's team did well in their soccer tournament this past weekend, which was held in San Diego, about a two hour drive from home. The Professor suggested we stay another night down this way, instead of driving home in the dark. So we did. For safety reasons only. Yeah, that's the ticket: Safety. Good thing we brought surfboards.

Did you get your free 7-11 Slurpee on 7/11, too?

Staying down this way occurs to a lot of people, who happen to have surfboards.

I like the way this guy just slams his protein powder for breakfast after climbing out of his pick-up truck shanty.

Thank you, Daddy.

P.S. Ready, Nic?

Where did June go?

2011-07-03T13:55:00.000-07:00

Time flies when you're having fun! So fun is what we must have had!

"Stressed" is just "desserts" with the letters rearranged

2011-05-22T16:37:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I've had some stress this week, some disappointment. Nothing that streusel and blueberries can't solve! At least for 15 minutes.

Another ENCINITAS in some Kokka double gauze.

LINK for the tutorials here.

Coming Soon! ...or sooner or later...

2011-05-17T11:55:00.000-07:00

ENCINITAS

Sunshine Dress ENCINITAS is named for a throw-back laid-back small-town beach town halfway between San Diego and Los Angeles. Encinitas calls itself the "flower capital of the world" (but so does Aalsmeer, Holland. And since the Dutch take their flowers as seriously as their soccer *ahem* football, I don't want to catch the ire of any tulip hooligans). And as such, this dress features a wavey, flower-like hemline.

The pattern may be sewn as a double-layer dress, skirt, apron skirt (álá "Feliz") or single-layer tunic top. For somewhat older girls (say, 8-9-10ish), I like to add the detail of slits in the arm seams for a summery, breezy look. Otherwise, for little girls, I'd leave the peasant top as is. Also, for older girls, I like to make a casing and tied bow neckline. I have instructions for these variations online.

I have to translate this into English yet and have printed for the North American market. But this pattern will be available from Farbenmix.de beginning May 19th.

My many, many, many thank to Sabine and Janina and the test sewists. XOXO

Orange, a cat, a pillow...bloggy randomness

2011-05-16T13:30:00.000-07:00

Hello! Hello!

I am, when I have a few hours to spare, working on the Annatorium (Anna's room). It's proving a bit harder for Anna and me to develop a vision for the room. Her only instructions: "No pink. I'm just not a pink girl. And no ORANGE!"

"But orange is so happy--"

"No! I want Hawaii."

Is Hawaii a color? I suppose I had engulfed the child in so much orange in her early life that perhaps it did become a bit annoying. "Anna-noying Orange...?" You know where this is going, so, yeah, I'll embed it...

We painted the walls TURQUOISE! (lordy, it's turquoise-y) and scrounged Craigslist for a bed and night stands and lamps. Painted the bed SILVER! The $15 Ebay drapes are so 60s/70s, I find myself singing a lot of 60s and 70s tv show intros (for all you young'uns, look up "That Girl" and "The Monkees" and "The Partridge Family" on YouTube...see? That's what we had before Glee: pretty bad). Moreover they have quite a bit of the verboten orange...but I needed something over the windows. We'll have to find something different. That's okay: The room, the girl, my decorating ability--all works in progress.

I did make this pillow! It's our interpretation of the Hawaiian state flag.

As we get more done, we'll show you what we've done in the Annatorium.

Do you remember Milo Cat? The cat-who-is-not-our-cat-Milo-Cat? He's still hanging around. He may not be our cat, but we might be some of his people. He's an old cat and he wants what he wants. And we don't mind. Anna made this sign of her love for the old bugger.

MoDa 2011

2011-05-08T11:50:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day!

Here's the to lunch-packers
The emergency-room takers
The worried brain wrackers
And the bake-sale bakers

Here's to the other-shoe-finders
The never-say-never-sayers
The beach-blanket minders
The kiss-a-boo-boo-make-all-betterers

Here's to the sibling bickering arbitrators
The up-all-night-with-baby early risers
The I-also-skate skatepark skaters*
And the science-project-organizers

You are the best.

(*winky-winky, Karen!)

BRIGHT! Flower

2011-05-06T09:14:00.000-07:00

Do you get tired of my photos of my girl in the daisy field? Aw, c'mon: It's May!

BRIGHT Flower! whose home is everywhere,

Bold in maternal Nature's care,

And all the long year through the heir

Of joy or sorrow;

Methinks that there abides in thee

Some concord with humanity,

Given to no other flower I see

The forest thorough!

- from "To the Daisy (2)" William Wordsworth

A need-to-know

2011-04-26T11:30:00.000-07:00

We all have changing allegiances. Like changing soccer clubs. If your former allegiance is in anyway reflected in heat transfers, these can be erased with something called Sansodor. Instead of tossing away perfectly good warm-ups and jerseys and bags and so on, just get ahold of this low-odor, much-less-hazardous solvent.

Sansodor is much like regular mineral spirits, but smells much less potent. Plus, it doesn't deteriorate in storage like turpentine. So you can keep it around for a while and use as needed.

Just let the Sansodor soak in a bit from the garment wrong side (the stuff won't soak through the plastic-y top of the heat transfer) and let the solvent do its thing on the adhesive. It's best to let it sit for a few minutes.

Then just peeeeeeel the past affiliation away! Toss the allegiance-less garment in the washing machine. Because it doesn't have as strong of vapors ("sans odor," get it?), the odor will be washed out and not transferred to the rest of the laundry.

Sansodor also does cool things with colored pencil drawings. Making them look like watercolor. But this stuff isn't for kids to use. Just sayin'

Just thought you might need to know!

Frohe Ostern! Throw-a egg!

2011-04-25T20:17:00.000-07:00

"FRO-ah OS-tairn"/"Throw-a egg" All right, it's a little forced.

Anyway... We made cascarones (confetti-filled eggs) this year. Supposedly, the practice came to Italy--as did pasta--in Marco Polo's luggage from China. And since the Professor returned from China on Easter Sunday, it all comes full circle. In my mind at least.

Very, very fun.

Give me a break

2011-04-23T11:45:00.000-07:00

I've had a nesting bug for a while. When I was younger and traveling so much, my apartment? Meh--whatever. But now, I spend hours and hours and days and days in these walls. And I'm not really groovin' on my digs. Part of the problem, is that some of my favorite pieces are antiques I brought back from Europe. At the time, I thought I'd live my whole life in Europe. But here I am, in sunny SoCal. And European antiques three blocks from the beach? It kind of looks like wearing a cocktail dress to a football game. Although, I've heard in Southern states, that is perfectly acceptable. Anyway, I want to sweep out the Old World dust and sprinkle some New World sand and bit-by-bit beach it up in here.

And I wanted to try my hand at oil paints. I like the three-dimentionality of the stuff. It's like painting with frosting (just don't lick your fingers). I traced a photograph I took down at Swami's of these four guys looking for a good break, frosted away and let some colors burst. It's kind of tricky stuff, but you never know 'til you try, right?

I think the painting helps beach it up in here. But look, don't touch. It's still pretty sticky. I'm pretty sure they don't let you touch oil paintings in museums, because they're still drying.

This is my first attempt at capital-A-hang-it-on-a-wall-Art and oil paints, too. So, give me a break. Which is also the title of this piece.

Give Me A Break, 2011

And speaking of capital-A-Art, follow this link and click through the videos of this talented young singer. I guarantee, whatever you are doing right now--checking emails, reading blogs (yes, you are!), dying Easter eggs, spring cleaning--whatever it is, it will be better with this Jaymee Dee and her guitar and her voice accompanying your day. I know, I know: Katy Perry's Firework? For real? Give me a break. Just try it. Never know 'til you try.

Flying is not always so easy

2011-04-18T11:22:00.000-07:00

Right now, I have two letters open in MS-Word. One is a complaint to AT&T Wireless for suspending our service--even though we are not late in paying and have never been late paying a bill in ten years (I'm afraid of grown-ups and teachers and Santa Claus and God and I try to do everything right and I pay my bills!). The Professor is in China for an extended project and his cell phone is his lifeline. And AT&T suspends service? Without cause? Or notification? And here's another complaint letter to the yahoos, who installed our replacement windows. Looking out the window into our pretty backyard no longer is a small pleasure, because I have to look at these stupid windows and be reminded of the idiot I am. Also this week, I've fallen victim to the good ol' bait 'n switch with an online photo equipment merchant. I am having to jump through all the hoops: calls, emails, faxes, disputes with the credit card company, threats of complaints to the New York City Attorney General and so on and so on. And don't get me started on the wrong billings I am still receiving for Anna's visit to the hospital some two years ago. Just don't. (Just know, dear friends, that the Wall Street Journal reported that about 80% of medical bills are wrong. So double and triple check those suckers.) Anyway, this is the stuff of life that makes me my snarky, cynical, occasionally shrill self, where I question, occasionally aloud and to no one in particular, "Really? Seriously?"

And then on Saturday, a simply textbook bucolic Southern California spring day--sun shining, light breeze rustling the leaves, wildflowers blooming--I attended the memorial service for a ten-year old child. Not a child I knew at all, really. He was the younger brother of one of Jack's buddies. You know, just a kid, one of those a ten-year old kids who are around.

If I try and list my favorite things in the world, I'd probably have to put kids that age right at the top of my list. Is there anything better than a kid? Way above Yosemite and Paris and blue oceans and warm apple pie, my favorite things in this world are sandy, silly, nose-picking, shoe-scattering, fart-noise-making, snuggling, uninhibited, un-self-conscious. unpretentious, running-with-scissors, skinned-kneed, finding-poodles-and-frogs-in-clouds, Halloween-candy-hoarding, soccer-cleat-losing, stray-cat-petting, too-much-maple-syrup-pouring...kids. Kids you love with all your heart. "And I love you, too, Mommy. With all my heart, Mommy. And all my spleen!" Have you ever had anyone love you will all her spleen? Only a kid can make such a spleen-felt statement.

So, when one of their number, even just one I barely know, but whom I have seen about on the soccer field, leaves this earth, I get a feeling in my throat, like a swallowed cockle bur. I kind of don't feel the chair I am sitting in or my clothes against my skin. It's like I shrink just a little bit within myself and am a fraction of a millimeter apart from the world. I can rub the creases between my eyebrows and that stems the moisture I feel forming at the rims of my eyelids. But then, a feeling comes over me immediately after or perhaps simultaneously with sadness that I can only call joy. Sort of a simultaneous bipolarity. I think colors are brighter, I hear more birds chirping, and every song on the radio is one I want to sing to. I find myself smiling when I see the dude in the car next to me singing to his radio, and the chubby teenagers making out at the bus stop, and the little ones running amok at Old Navy. This is life and this is joy.

What do spleens do? Whatever medical research has since discovered about spleens, from the time of the ancient Greeks to well into the 18th Century, the learned were of the opinion that the spleen produced "black bile," which caused melancholia. And on that note, I do think I love my children with all my heart and children of the world with all my spleen.

God be with you, young Chase.

Spring sprung!

2011-04-04T19:05:00.000-07:00

Wishing you wildflowers and sunshine!

Happiness is where you find it.

2011-03-27T18:55:00.000-07:00

Some see a puddle...

...others see paradise!

5-7-5

2011-03-15T22:03:00.000-07:00

Porcelain trembles

Dinner plates tectonic

Shattered heart Japan

Seismic blast surges

Waters rush rise kill recede

Cherry blossom tears

Fukushima burning

Reactor fires one two

Three the four horsemen

My prayers are for you, Japan. I hope you will smile again, soon.

Watching the watch.

2011-03-11T10:55:00.000-08:00

No tsunami waves landed on our shore. So far.

And, yes, that little black dot is a guy on a stand-up paddle board...during the tsunami watch...because you can totally beat back a tsunami with an aluminum paddle, right?

My thoughts go out to the people of Japan.

Little by little...

2011-02-26T14:12:00.000-08:00

Well, my Web hosting service moved my site to another server...

...and something got lost along the way.

I'll be clicking and typing and performing other mysterious feats of Internet magic and hopefully, I'll be able to make the online wholesale shop *voilá!* reappear.

I'll keep you posted, hopefully with a big TA-DA! Please contact me via email if you need anything. I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

Happy, happy Saturday!

-Nancy

Um...I don't know...online shop "gone"...

2011-02-25T18:07:00.000-08:00

Dear Retail Partners!

My "studiotantrum.com/shop/" site "disappeared". And I'm not able to log on the back end...

I don't know what happened. I hope to be up and running again soon. In the meantime, please email me with any questions or concerns.

Sorry for the inconvenience.

Yours scratching her head,
Nancy

Carnation tarnation

2011-02-12T15:00:00.000-08:00

Ah, the smell of See's candy in the air! Must be Valentine's Day soon.

Jack is in middle school ~ the new kid in school ~ and at the age, when he could really use the excuse of Valentine's Day to hand out Valentines to, you know, everybody. But, hey, now Valentine's Day is for real, right? And you know what comes on Monday: Some really cool kids will walk into homeroom clutching dozens of fundraising carnations, each with a card attached. Those kids are so smug. They already know who will get carnations and who will not. They'll call out the recipients' names and, one by one, march the blooms plucked not 48 hours earlier from their South American DDT and methly-bromide laden greenhouses to their blushing recipients. DDT? No matter: Bring on the carcinogens. Just one. Please just one little one for me. As the dozens of carnations become just a hand full, then three, then two, you try to absorb yourself in twisting back the wire poking out of your spiral notebook or pulling the thread on your sleeve or doodling with ballpoint on your jeans leg...anything, anything but those horrid carnations as they are marched down between the desks. As if middle school weren't tough enough. I know I hated sitting there in homeroom while the flowers were handed out. Oh, yes, my friends (girls), though we each reviled the practice, we partook in an act of solidarity, an unspoken pact, each buying each other a pink "friendship" carnation. The act of purchasing of which, it can be mentioned, was in itself a test of true friendship: (deep breath) "Hi Student Counil Member/Cheerleader/Volleyball Captain who lives just five houses away and who used go go trick-or-treating with me and played Barbies with me and who has at least three classes with me and who copies off my tests all the time, but who still doesn't seem to recognize me (fine with me), please just take this dollar to fundraise for the extremely beneficial cause of cheerleading camp and give me that card to fill out. Okay? Give me the card and that really weird little game you played with your Barbies will remain our little secret, okay? And that thing where you'd walk around with tennis balls in your training bra? My lips are sealed. Take the dollar, give me the card and you can file back into that flock of letterman jackets and feathered hair and Lip Smackers and Reebok aerobics shoes and leg warmers and upturned polo shirt collars I'll go back to my library carroll and world order will be restored. And don't read the card. It's for my friend you don't like, because she beat you up in fifth grade and she, too, knows about the tennis balls."

But nary a red "love" carnation in all the years of middle and high school would find me. And then, the bell would ring and you would walk out into the hall and it seemed like every other girl in the school was a walking Rose Bowl parade float.

Anyway, for Anna, Valentine's is still awesome. It's about love for everybody in your class.

And fifteen? That's not too many. Let's make 15 little carnation-y fabric hair clips for the all girls in your class.

"Roses are red

Violets are blue

We made this pretty hair posie

Just for you!"

Corny? Sure, but we'll go with it.

If you are so inclined, the tutorial can be found here.

The boys will get Hoppy Valentine's origami frogs. Because they're boys. And after so much assembly line work, I couldn't think of anything original.

Speaking of See's Candy and speaking of loyal friends and speaking of assembly lines...the See's candy kitchen is where Lucy and Vivian practiced this famous, no, historic bit of television. You know the one. C'mon, watch it again!

I know,

2011-02-09T17:18:00.000-08:00

it's only rock 'n roll,

but I like it!

Shirt pattern Antonia from Farbenmix made from some luscious Farbenmix star jersey. The skirt is just a mash up.

In other news...

Recently, I attended the CHA, Craft and Hobby Association trade fair, in town. Did a little make-'n-take and caught up on the latest in fabric stabilizer technology. Compared to last year's show, I saw more sewing supplies makers with stands. This is a good sign, I think.

The people from Creative Publishing International are almost too much fun.

This is Elanor Lynn, author, free-spirit and passionate needle crafter, showing CPi marketing director Catherine Steen a stitch or two. Elanor put knitting needles back in my hand for the first time in two decades. I'm "continental", did you know that? I didn't either. "Continental" not a "thrower".

Here, we, from left to right, ... I don't know who that is... she has a crafting television show up in Canada ... Sort of a Canuck Martha? Please tell me who this is. Very nice lady. Anyway, moving along, we then have author and Craftside blogger Stephanie Girard and author and artist Lisa Kettell.

Capable of flying

2011-01-25T11:20:00.000-08:00

You soared, baby girl!

Congratulations Miss Fifi! You did such a beautiful job!

(And Toni, you're not doing such a bad job either, letting your beautiful butterfly spread her wings ;-)

Sand dollars and cents

2011-01-22T20:53:00.000-08:00

I can only bring myself to cut into these kinds of fabrics once I forget what I paid for them. I think I've had this marvelous Hilco sweatshirt material for more than two years. Maybe three. Worth every penny. However many pennies that was.
AMELIA tunic, ANTONIA shirt and KATI skinny jeans. All fit like a dream! And all Farbenmix.

Ten in Ten for Ten - Day Ten

2011-01-22T20:22:00.000-08:00

Awww...young love...

Thank you, Dr. King.

2011-01-17T09:50:00.000-08:00

“If you can’t fly then run, if you can’t run then walk, if you can’t walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward.”

“As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways in which I could respond to my situation — either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course.”

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Nine

2011-01-16T17:16:00.001-08:00

Lunch al fresco. With a wasabi monster. Well, where do you think wasabi comes from?

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Eight

2011-01-15T18:48:00.000-08:00

Beachy.

An important message

2011-01-09T19:11:00.001-08:00

I didn't do my 10-10-10 homework today. A couple of days ago, my neighbor knocked on my door and asked. "Hey, I'm cleaning out my garage. Do you want a photo l–"

"YES! Please!"

"-ightbox?" Whatever that is. Dude had me at "photo l–". This photo l–(ightbox) is like a mini studio, made of white acrylic and you use it to photograph small items. So, I had to play with that today. And such a tiny, perfectly controlled environment really isn't in the spirit of the 10-10-10 Me-Me.

BUT, I do have an important message for you today. And it is the writing on the wall.

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Seven

2011-01-07T17:08:00.000-08:00

For Shel Silverstein fans:

I found it! I found it! Today, I found where the sidewalk ends!

And for good measure, the poem:

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we'll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we'll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Six

2011-01-06T19:38:00.000-08:00

I headed for the blob of blight in our neck of the woods: A power plant. If you are reading this blog, you are likely benefiting from electricity. All energy on our planet originates with the sun (except for kinetic energy, such as hydroelectric. Thank you, very clever son of mine). There are some ways to turn bits of sun rays and breezes into electrons. The way this place makes electricity is to take the energy captured by plants, which was then eaten by dinosaurs, who died and decayed, which remains were held under incredible pressure under tons of earth for millions of years...and then pumped up again, refined and burned...to create steam...to turn one giant set of magnets around other magnets... Pretty amazing, if you think about it...

Colette (Colette reflected on the people in her life, who had made some Christmas decorations for her. I'm really thinking this exercise is less and less about the photos themselves, but about something else. I think that's a good thing.)

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Five

2011-01-04T21:04:00.000-08:00

While I'm not liking my photos, I am liking this exercise: Since I've given myself these constraints of ten minutes and no editing, I've really got to dig deep to finish my homework. A photographic "moment" isn't likely to drop in during my designated ten minutes, since moments really must contain people in the image. I'm really having to open my eyes to light, symmetry, pattern, shapes and color. And I want to cheat. I wanna cheat so bad. But then I see the U-Haul truck that tells me "U can do it!"

I'm using this mosaic maker. I didn't bother reading the fine print, so I'm not sure if this mosaic maker steals your identity or soul or whatever... But it does make good mosaics.

And check out the fun here...

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Four

2011-01-03T17:38:00.001-08:00

And check out...

Mad Crafty Mama (stay tuned!)

Lola Nova ("Happiness" graffiti and Paul Bunyan? Yes, please!)

Handmade Homegrown (Catamarans and cutting tables! I wanna be you...)

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Three

2011-01-02T17:10:00.000-08:00

These aren't great shots today, not by a long shot. But this exercise is in the doing, not what's done. In the photographing, not the photograph.

It is chilled-to-the-bone cold and rainy. But a quick espresso helps things considerably. January first is the day we do two things: Take down the Christmas tree and sort the earthquake kit. In Los Angeles, the rule of thumb is that in the event of The Big One, we Angelenos need to be prepared to live for three days without water, power and communication. So, it's all about sorting out old batteries while keeping energized with espresso and year-old trail mix.

You may want to check out Handmade Homegrown and Lola Nova will be playing along as well! Thank you, you darling gals!

Check...?

2010-12-30T11:37:00.000-08:00

Camera? Check!

Memory card? Check!

Battery charged? Check!

Remember battery for trip up into the mountains?

...battery?

Hmmm...Sorry: No "Me-Me" without camera battery!

I'll catch up...catch up...

10 in 10 for 10 - Day Two

2010-12-27T14:58:00.000-08:00

One point of this exercise is to see if the divine can be seen in the mundane. On my very mundane walk to my office, three blocks from my house, past a FexEd and a yoga studio and a LensCrafters and an empty lot...the divine almost hit me over the head, as just long as I was looking for it. Angels, devils, heaven, hell, natural, supernatural, unnatural.

1. DSC01094, 2. DSC01090, 3. DSC01089, 4. DSC01075, 5. DSC01076, 6. DSC01070, 7. DSC01073, 8. DSC01078, 9. DSC01085

10 photos in 10 minutes for 10 days. No editing. Just seeing/shooting/posting. That's it!

10 in 10 for 10 - Day One

2010-12-26T17:20:00.000-08:00

Photos in minutes for days, that is.

Today, I thought up a meme (which, in my head, I pronounce "Me-Me", because I can, because it's my head). 10-10-10. Ten photos. Ten minutes. Ten days. It's intended to exercise my mindfulness and stretch my photographic eye. No time to fidget with settings (which I cannot, because I cracked the LCD display on the back of my camera. Perfect.). No time to stage anything. No photo editing.

Just walk/see/shoot/look/post.

If you click the links below, you'll see the photo information. It says that the photos were taken in September of 2007, but, like I say, the LCD display in cracked and I can't change anything. Keeps me honest. Except the date thing. Because these photos were taken today. All within ten minutes.

If you'd like to join in, have at it!

Day One: Nine photos in the mosaic and one on top! (The one on top is different from the one in the mosaic...not by much...I'll get better at this as the days go by, pinky swear.

1. DSC01067, 2. DSC01065, 3. DSC01062, 4. DSC01060, 5. DSC01059, 6. DSC01058, 7. DSC01055, 8. DSC01054, 9. DSC01056

Love and joy come to you!

2010-12-23T22:11:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas! Frohe Weihnachten!

Third and Fairfax ...

2010-12-22T09:53:00.000-08:00

... fresh rain pattering between the awnings.

... at Christmas time.

... Moishe's falafel.

... large hot coffee and a Bob's Doughnut.

... my boy discovering all that lay under that layer of thick chocolate in a piece of Little John's rocky road.

... my girl singing made-up words to Christmas carols being played by a steel drum reggae band.

Right now, I want nothing more. I'm good. I have all the Christmas presents I want. This is happy.

4th Advent

2010-12-20T16:36:00.000-08:00

"I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything."

— F. Scott Fitzgerald

Exactly the same, but different

2010-12-12T07:37:00.000-08:00

OH my feet hurt. Why can't I where comfortable shoes without it being a political statement?

Okay: So, yesterday, I was invited by Craftside to attend Unique L.A., do a little Make 'N Take, book signing la-di-da... And much fun was had.

In Germany, about this time of year, Christmas markets are a staple tradition. And Unique L.A. is exactly the same thing. Except in Los Angeles not in Germany, and 75ºF/24ºC and not 20 below freezing, and live D.J. and not Glockenspiel, and something called Tanzanian Sumatran Fair Trade Organic (which was not a sandwich, as I hoped) and not mulled wine, and in a penthouse and not in the village square, and Grand Marnier pistacio cupcakes and not sugared almonds...but exactly the same. Exactly the same in all the important ways: Lots of handcrafted, lots of good chit-chat – a good time yes indeedy.

Some postcards...

I set out some design examples from our book, demonstrated an easy holiday fascinator, sold a few sewing patterns (actually, gave many more away, because whenever I hear "Oh, I'd love to sew, but don't know where to start," that's my cue).

Granny's afgan pants: You saw them here first (well, not first, maybe). Totally diggin' afgan pants. Design Schuyler Ellers/Skychic.

Island of misfit toys.
Craftside offered an opportunity to wear the World's Ugliest Christmas Sweater.

So, it's 3rd Advent already and I'm late, I'm late for a very important date! Must unpack the car and run a few errands.

Thank you for stopping by!

Whodda thunk? And how to debunk the funk, punk

2010-12-08T11:51:00.000-08:00

Yes, okay: I love irony as much as the next guy. Probably more. (See?) But, despite the bon mots and pithy banter that is the running dialog of my head and my above ironic seasonal arrangement, there is more to this story. This story includes a phantom, screaming, nudity and lots of baking soda.

'Twas an ordinary night before Christmas and all through the house, I was stirring: turning off lights, picking up scattered things, closing curtains and, dang nabit, if the lawn guys didn't close that side gate... So, as to deter any would-be prowlers, I ventured into the dark and shadowy yard to close the side gate...

...When what did emerge from those shadows but a phantom! A phantom of two white stripes undulating on a pool of furry shadow darker than evil itself! Such phantom dashed from the dark between when there gate stood against the boundary wall to brush against my unsuspecting ankle! My very flesh! A true fright as I have never had.

I screamed a scream to rival any eleven-year-old girl at a Justin Bieber concert. And turn and run I did, stomping my clogs across the bricks so loudly as to surely register with the USGS. Run I did, into the safety of my hallowed home, secure that I had outrun the shadow demon.

Did it get me? No.

Of course not. I am safe.

Wait.

"Did it get me?" I ask the perplexed children, awoken from their peaceful slumber.

Wait.

A slight taste of curry. A tinge of rubber cement.

Wait.

A scent of burning tires...

No, a scent of...

Wait...

SKUNK!

Punked. Skunked. Whodda thunk? It got me.

It sure as heck got me.

Upon which realization I dash out from the hallowed home in a frenzy to disrobe down to my birthday suit. I streak back into the house straight into the shower yelling to the gagging, coughing young ones, "Go on the Internet! Type in 'get rid of skunk smell'!"

A ghost story as ne'er was told.

But this post is also educational:

To get rid of skunk smell from yourself or a pet or a child, the magic recipe is this: Hydrogen peroxide and baking soda.

It works, it really does. Now, the way I recommend to punk your skunk-funk is to first give yourself a sticky layer of shower gel. If you have no shower gel, use shampoo or dishwashing liquid (it's an emergency, sister). Onto this, pour the hydrogen peroxide and baking soda mixture and lather up. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat. Rinse, repeat in your best anxiety disorder fashion.

For your hair, however, unless you can suddenly sport that Billy Idol/Gwen Stefani look for reals, keep the hydrogen peroxide a good distance from your raven/auburn/ginger/mousey locks. Just pour lots and lots of baking soda into your damp hair, work in and let sit for a while before shampooing and rinsing. It worked. The smell was basically gone. For me, at least.

As far as how to debunk the skunk funk in the house? Well, Lysol spray, bowls of baking soda laying about and--this is the real debunker, I think--bowls of chlorine bleach scattered about. You know how undiluted chlorine bleach has that chemical, swimming-pool smell? Well, the bleach vapors seem to cancel out the sulfurous methyl and butyl thiols. Within a rather short time, we didn't really smell either the skunk funk or the bleach.

By this morning, a tiny bit of the musky-skunkiness lingers, but about as much as a skunky road kill one street over would. By this time, I can air out the house by opening doors and windows (couldn't do that last night, as the skunk funk was right outside the house). And then, to get into the spirit of the season, I went ahead and decked the hall with boughs of car fresheners.

A pox on your house, Bryonie Porter

2010-12-07T11:40:00.000-08:00

I think a lot of stupid things. One of the stupider thoughts I tend to have is, "How tough can it be to do that?"

For a long time, I've had the stupid thought, "How tough can it be to do that?" Bryonie Porter does beautiful work, don't you think? Sublime. Can't you see how she lead me down a dark path of temptation?

I now know the answer to this question, "How tough can it be to wallpaper a piece of furniture." I'm much wiser now. Much wiser than I would like to be.

The ingredients for this DIYour-damn-self were a roll of antique wallpaper for a whopping $9.99 and an old cabinet that came with the house. The cabinet was screwed to the wall in the garage and used to store 20+ years worth of extra paint. In addition, the previous owners had a tendency to nail random boards and nails into the thing, as well as use some of the leftover paint on the cabinet itself. All the shabby, none of the chic. With all the holes in this thing, stripping and refinishing this sucker never really entered my head. Plus, I had that stupid "How hard can it be to do that?" taking up all the room in my head anyway. So, because I didn't see the value in storing 20-year-old paint any longer when I really, really, really need storage for years and years of household admin paperwork, I channeled my inner Bryonie Porter and went to work.

Puttying, sanding, painting, pasting, moulding, trimming and two coats of shellack before the rain came in and I had to get the thing indoors... Long story short. And I mean long story, here's the after.

The ugly, pubescent middle of this project can be viewed here.

I'm waiting for some antique hardware I won on Ebay to finish it off. In terms of the look, I was heading toward old Hollywood and got off the freeway somewhere in Claremont. The paper tore at the edges and corners. But the aged back of the paper showed through and I went with it. It was a learning project. And the rough edges sorta matches the wear on the club chairs we have in that room, accidently on purpose. Well, that's my story and I'm stickin' to it.

1. Advent

2010-11-28T18:15:00.000-08:00

'Tis the season!

A blessed holiday season to you!

Thanks

2010-11-26T10:08:00.000-08:00

Giving.

Okay, okay, I know, I know. I missed a Halloween post. And the kids' costumes turned out pretty cute. The plan was to get them in their costumes the next day again... yeah, well ...

But I am back for Thanksgiving! We celebrated in a small way, just me and the kids. The Professor is in China these days, so we did our wishbone wishes with him via Skype.

This year, I am grateful for my family and health, the way the sun streams in through the kitchen windows, the pie-crust making lessons I received from my mother, Skype, political leaders that are guided by conscience and a strong ethical code, the Professor's terrific opportunity these days in China, my dear friends, who include my son in their excursions to Palm Springs, the millions and millions of people around the world, who generously share their knowledge and experience with DYI on the Internet, my friends and colleagues at Farbenmix, the thousands of people, who have bought our sewing patterns and book and the many who have joined our forums and flickr groups and so on... I am even sort of grateful to the idiot, who, in her passive-aggressive, sometimes aggressive-aggressive way, takes issue with our parking a car on the street. She'll put broken glass under the tires, leave nasty notes, paint lines on the street indicating where she wants me to park, that sort of thing. Crazy person. It makes me realize how fortunate I am to never, ever have had such a thought cross my mind. I've never, ever been that upset at anyone's parking, for Pete's sake. Just not how I flow. I don't even care about the broken glass or the notes. If there's ever any damage, I'll deal with that. But let the woman have her little hissy fit. I recall being in Paris, and remembering that people, if they were parked on a flat street, would not put their transmissions in "park", so that, if necessary, the next car needing a bit more room could nudge the car a bit. I remember being in Athens and double and triple parking in front of a club. The rationale of the drivers being, that the party was great, so who'd want to leave?

I am very thankful indeed.

Peace monkey!

2010-10-25T15:29:00.001-07:00

Large appliqués like this are easy and quick. Especially if you embrace attaining imperfection by leaving the edges raw.

Shirt: "Antonia" from Farbenmix; Trousers "Lunada" from StudioTantrum/Fledge

I'm that lady.

2010-10-25T08:45:00.000-07:00

Oh. Em. Gee. At Jack's soccer game yesterday, there was this woman who was "WOO-WOO-WOO-ing" at the top of her lungs (actually, at the top of her throat, a very annoying, howling, wavering ululation heard among some Arab cultures at funerals), just because her son got a goal. Yes, a spectacular goal, a header from 15 yards right over two taller leaping opponents. But come on.

Lady, would you just stop that? I mean, really. I'm so embarrassed for that woman's kid.

And then I'm thinking, oh no, that woman is me. "WOO-WOO-*sound of needle scratching across record errrrrt*" Sort of hit me like a soccer ball straight in the face (had to find some segway to those photos, right?)

I think it's official. I've turned into a cliché: Soccer mom. I think about the only thing I am missing is one of those white decals on the darkened rear window. If I were a window-decal kind of person, I'm pretty sure I would have one. I am this close--thiiiiis close--to writing a complaining email about that Assistant Ref (You gotta keep up with the second-to-last defender! You missed so many offsides, I'm ready to tell my kid to stay off sides when we switch field sides. And you can't be chewing the fat with the spectators! That's right, I'm talking to you, chubby, no-neck Assistant Ref in Norwalk: You!). And don't get me started on the icky politics of this club. Just don't. (Okay, okay, so there's two teams in my son's division and the other team, I mean, really,...okay, don't...)And I find that I am only wearing black. Because I am a ninja. No, because I am squishy and black is the least offensive color on squishy. But there's no denying the look is pretty soccer-ish. (And I also keep the local peasantry safe from the corrupt samurai with my skill and magic...)

I think waaaay too much about my kids' soccer. How did I get here? This started out years and years ago, to get the kids involved in a team sport that did not have a lot of equipment (Football? The undergarments alone are a hundred bucks. Hockey? I don't think so. Basketball? Okay, except for the fact that I have about the shortest kids in the class.). Because team sports is a good thing for kids. A good thing that I didn't have. I was in one sports team in my life, in college, a biking team for the Little 500. And so, here I am. Is this a good thing? In other people: Um, no. Not a good look. And me?

I want my kids to do well. I wish the best for all kids. But I do want my kids to shine bright (brighter? ... -est?). I want that for them. Which is a good thing, right? And I want it for me, too. Which is...?

Which is creating "WOO-WOO-WOO" sounds from my throat. That much is certain. Must at least come up with better responses. Must practice restrained excitement: "Well done, lad?" "Good stuff, son?" "Deserved of approval, young man?" "YOU ROCK, JACK!!! WOO-WOO-WOO!!!"

At least the black helps me to disappear into the background more easily, once I've completely embarrassed myself and my children. Ninja...

OOOOooooo

2010-10-22T09:36:00.000-07:00

Lookie at the little Halloween diarama my girl made!

Can you see where the "h" is crossed out? So that the "bathroom" is the "batroom"? Bwu-ah-ah-aaahhhhh!

Now, if I could only find the motivation to make her costume... Ugh.

Learning by example

2010-10-21T20:50:00.000-07:00

From this guy I've learned that I should take my burger, my bike and my boy to the beach. Any time I can.

Rainy Tuesday

2010-10-19T16:46:00.000-07:00

Due to technical difficulties...

2010-10-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

Hello friends, Retail Partners and others!

Long time no post...I'll get something together.

But I need to let you know, that I cannot access my voicemail! I will not be able to access my voicemail for about two weeks. This is incredibly inconvenient for my retail partners, I know. I am very sorry. I gave my phone to my husband to take on a trip, because he wanted to use the some of the apps. So the calls are forwarded to another phone. However, the voicemails are not forwarded.

Again, I apologize. Please drop me an email. That is the easiest way to reach me.

No voicemail service for about two weeks.

Heads up!

2010-09-20T11:14:00.000-07:00

It's getting to be Halloween time. So, I thought today I would pull out some of Jack's past costumes made from bicycle helmets. I came up with this idea many years ago and like the idea, because it is a lot of effect for the effort. Essentially, you get a great big head. And great big heads are awesome for costumes. The bicycle helmet works nicely, because it fits snugly with a chin strap. Plus, it has ventilation holes leading into a layer of Styrofoam, into which you can anchor things.

The drawbacks with this kind of costume are that the headpiece can become heavy if you load it up too much. So keep the building materials lightweight. The other drawback, is that the child's vision is obscured, so he will need a little extra supervision during treat-or-treating. The headpiece can become a bit cumbersome, so keep in mind your child's tolerance level.

This was a viper fish/angler fish. Probably a species not yet discovered.

I rigged this with little lights along the back, tail and into the hanging lure.

This was a Cyclops.
Here, you can see the underside. I can't think of many blogs that offer you a chance to look up a hairy Cylcops nose. The teeth are made of a modeling plastic (Fimo). Before baking, I inserted toothpicks into the tops of each tooth. I then stuck the toothpicks up into Styrofoam to anchor them. Alas, all that Halloween candy lead to some tooth loss for our Cyclops along the way and he only has two teeth remaining. The helmet is concealed with faux fur cut into shaggy strips.

And a dragon! The snout for this dragon and the nose for the Cyclops were made by carving pieces of Styrofoam with a paring knife and then moulding and glueing felt around the carving. On the dragon snout, I used a Sharpie pen to add shadow and detail. Dragons must eat less candy, because he still has all his teeth! Feathers add detail to the crown and expression to the eyes. The helmet is covered here in probably an old bed sheet spray painted and cut into strips.

So, that's the heads up!

Pregnancy of the Day!

2010-09-14T12:12:00.000-07:00

(No, no, no. Heavens no. Don't get excited. Not me. Me? Llama. Just wait for it.)

We are back to school. And I do feel qualified to say "we" and include myself among the back-to-schoolers. I 'm stressing about correctly filled-out agenda books and papers correctly labeled and lists of supplies: Protractor, ruler, glue stick, two different colors of sticky notes, three different colors of highlighters, 100 notecards, six white mice and a pumpkin... Jack started a new school this year. And while it can't be the grooviest thing to be the new kid during the middle year of middle school, his "I hate school" comments can so far only be traced to the 50 problems of Algebra every night and the "Pregunta del diá" ("Mom, what does 'Pregunta del diá' mean?" It's a latinate language, honey, so: "Pregnancy of the day"...). Soy una experta de idioma! Me? Llama. Me llama mama. And I am proud of that boy.

And it's soccer season and my chance to don an obnoxious yellow shirt. Soy una árbitra! Well, I have a flag and a patch and the shirt, so I am entrusted with officiating and execution of the FIFA laws. Laws, not rules. Laaaaws. Well, assistant referee. For which certain Advanced referees are inclined to quiz me--out of the blue--thusly: "Nancy, if, during a goal kick, the ball is caught by a strange wind and does not go forward into the field of play, but goes directly backward, what is the call?" Seriously? What is the call? If the laws of physics are no longer to be relied upon? The call is 9-1-1, because I am on a field with 22 youngsters in the middle of a tornado. That's the call. "Nancy, name all the different kinds of restarts and how they are performed." And so it goes...

I submitted a Whip Up post and dear Kathreen posted it yesterday. Boy, I can tell I haven't written much lately, because, yeah, it's another brain dump. But go have a read, if you like. I've included a little free e-book at the end to make a newsboy cap. Like the one up there at the top of this post.

The article tries to explain how serious crafting can be honest résumé fodder. And I reveal that as much as I am a "business woman," I'm not in it for the money ('cause there ain't that much). I am richly rewarded, on the other hand, with feelings of contributing, accomplishment, community and family. I also have a bounty of richness in the friendships that I have formed. I recently had a little exchange with Lola Nova. Oh what treasures! I am not a huge fan of shopping. I look through a mall and think: There's nothing special here. There's nothing with a history or a patina of love and use. There's nothing here that anybody made for me. Quite a different story with things of a handmade nature, wouldn't you say?

Many of Lola Nova's treasures have quickly found their homes in our home and daily lives. It warms my heart to come across them. I will photograph them as I see them. Things like...

...this shopper!

(The Trader Joe dudes are tired of hearing that somebody made the bag for me. So what.)

...And this gnarly orange "Big Wednesday" poster for the Jack Habitat. Goes Perfect, no?

...And the Rock On Monkey! Like Rock On Monkey.

The handmade pencil case is off to school right now. I'll save that for another post. And the homemade marmalade? Well, at least one jar for sure won't be able to make it to the next post, because it has not lasted long enough to photograph...

Have a beautiful day!

We interrupt your summer for this commercial message.

2010-08-27T23:35:00.000-07:00

Just a quickie. Just getting the word out. Won't take long.

I have not been sewing. Wait, I take that back: I did stitch six seams last week during Crafty Mama Lisa's Wednesday sew-along. Woo hoo! Six whole seams (topstitched,

too!). Anyway, I've watched a lot of Glee reruns. And I have been translating. Translating, translating, translating. Translating lends itself well to simultaneously watching Glee reruns. Sort of a Zen activity. Unless the garment is a complete mystery to me, I can basically look at it and get my head immediately into its construction..."Stitch bodice left and right pieces to the bodice back fabric right sides together at the shoulder seams. Press the seam allowances toward the front and topstitch from the garment right side...Repeat for the corresponding lining pieces..." This goes there and that goes there before that goes there so that can happen here... And so on and so on and so forth... Yes, Zen, but dry as toast!

Time to get back to sewing. So that you can get back to sewing, I do now have some new favorite Farbenmix sewing patterns translated into Englis

So, my lovely retail partners, I have Fancy Frock WILLEMIENTJE and the Mini Mod Dress AMELIE ready to go! In English!

ZUCKA (skirt), ULJANA (skirt) and IZZY (about the cutest jacket I have seen in a loooong time) are coming up very shortly (mid September).

In other news, I've been asked to guest post on Whip

Up (love Whip Up, don't you?). Whip Up generously wrote a lovely review on our book and I never said thank you. Well, thank you, Whip Up gals! I appreciate every kind word out there. I think I'll prepare a freebook for that guest post. But is there anything you'd like to hear from me for this guest post? Any questions you'd have?

*crickets*

Yeah, I think a good freebook is a better idea, too.

I return you now to your regularly scheduled summer.

Sooo... Whaddup?

2010-08-23T22:04:00.000-07:00

I'm in such a nesting mood, I keep checking my arms to see if I'm growing feather. After redoing Jack's room, it's only "fair" to see if Ebay and Craigslist don't have a few things for a new look for the Annatorium. All in the name of fairness.

Every room needs a statement piece. In the Jack Habitat, it is this chair. Or maybe the puffer fish.

For Anna's room, well, she doesn't really know exactly what statement she wants to make. Just less ORANGE. Much less orange, thank you very much. And "groovy". And "glamorous". And "not princess". So my head is heading Mid Century Florida, where my grandmother had a glamorous (in my opinion) condominium in Saint Petersburg. Think beach with a touch of The Kapok Tree Inn. My grandmother had money and my mother had great taste: When those two got together to redecorate, man, they would have done Dorothy Draper proud. I haven't the budget or the finesse to do what they did, but I'm priming wood nonetheless. Not sure how it will all come together, but have to start somewhere.

Part and parcel for particle board, it's time that the Ikea bed went before it collapses and the girl wakes up in a pile of sawdust. I picked up an "antique four-poster bed" on Craigslist. Antique it's not. And four-poster is more like canopy bed sans canopy. Do we hear the voice of buyer's remorse? Yeah, sure, but also the echo of "let's do whatever the heck we want with the bed-shaped mass of wood!" So, on with the primer today!

And then there's this for inspiration. The very best kind. More on that later

Have a great day,

Nancy

A peek!

2010-08-16T20:43:00.000-07:00

Peek-a...

Boo!

You likey?

Then me makey sewing pattern!

Tell me whatcha think!

And please give the girl some props for letting me put hydrangea on her head.

Postcards from today

2010-08-01T21:55:00.000-07:00

Manhattan Beach.

Big surprise: Milo likes food.

2010-08-01T10:13:00.000-07:00

Let's get this straight, once and for all: Milo, you are not our cat. No. You belong to these fine people, who pay the phone bill belonging to this number on your tag. Go back to them. This is my house. My yard. My kids. My rules: No cats. So, go along home, now. Go, go, go away! Shoo. Yes, you. Go...

As anyone who has ever tried to have a heart-to-heart--a tête à tête, a tête à chat, a chat with a chat, a chat chat, cat chat--with a cat (or with a rock, for that matter) knows, a cat really doesn't care about your worldview. It's always only all about "me, me, me". Which a cat will state, in English, very clearly: "MEEeeee". A dog, on the other hand, may not understand you exactly, but a dog will work really hard to figure out what makes its human happy. A cat, on the other hand, works really hard to have a human, any human, figure out what makes it happy.

"Do you think cats like shrimp?"

Kids, really: Do we really need to test this hypothesis? Really? Shrimp are nature's potato chips for carnivores. Think about it: What meat-eater doesn't enjoy a curly little stomotopod treat? Even the giant blue whales like shrimp, better than anything else. I'd bet, if you put a shrimp in front of a Saharan sand cat, a creature, which in the course of its evolution likely hasn't seen any sea creature since the Saharan oceans receded, that creature would have no problem eating a shrimp. Even God can't seem to keep us away from shrimp: When He was still speaking directly to us, He called the very useful shrimp and its shellfish cousin an abomination. And "abomination" was probably about right: Back before the days of water treatment plants, water treatment consisted primarily of these very filter feeders. Ergo, whatever ill the water bore, would thus become food borne illness. And yet, we have Red Lobster $11.99 Shrimp Festivals. Go figure.

Too late: Shrimp/cat hypothesis is tested. And yes, by the way, cats do like shrimp. And this Milo Cat likes shrimp, very much, thank you very much.

And I think this test actually sealed the deal for Milo Cat. While he may not be our cat, we appear to be Milo Cat's shrimp-providing people. That's all that matters.

But we are not cat people!

Look, I have nothing against the smirky, silky, snarky felines, exactly. I just like to keep a healthy distance between me and anything that makes my eyes swell up and my sinuses run like leaky taps and my lungs constrict in asthma: Just a personal quirk. My house. My kids. My rules: No cats.

"MEEEeee".

I'm just not getting through to the petite puma. Not making any negotiating headway at all. Not as long as there is a possibility of more shrimp and a sunny/shady spot with comfy cushions to boot.

"Do cats like prosciutto?"

Do cats like $18-a-pound prosciutto? Uh-huh.

And since this cat is named Milo and since this whole post is about food and because this particular song seems to reflect Milo Cat's entire thought process, a little bit of another particular Milo and his similar thoughts on food. Just because.

Winners finish last.

2010-07-31T10:27:00.000-07:00

The last day of the LA County Junior Lifeguard program coincides with the International Surf Festival around here. Part of the surf festival includes lifeguard competitions, with lifeguard teams arriving from all over California and even Australia. No reason to keep the mini watermen/women out of the fun! The Taplin Relay consists of a six-kid running relay, handing off to a six-kid paddling team and then handing off to a six-kid swimming relay team. Jack qualified for the paddling portion of the Taplin relay race. And, if I may... the first running portion left Jack's team in sixth; the second part, the paddling part, Jack's part--those kids brought his team into first place with a 30 second lead!

Anyway, Jack's Redondo Beach team placed third! Third! That's good enough for a t-shirt! A t-shirt! A free t-shirt! I'm pretty stoked. Jack is a pretty athletic kid, but he consistently finishes fourth. All-city track meet...soccer...bike rodeo...fourth, fourth, fourth. Fourth is great. Fourth is better than fifth and tenth and twenty-seventh... But I don't think fourth even gets recorded officially, right? There's gold, silver, bronze and then the rest...fourth and twenty-seventh...and so on...

But in this event, the kid that comes in very last gets the very best reward. A Tunnel of Love made up of about two hundred kids. Just making a team is an accomplishment. And then to finish this exhausting race is pretty amazing.

Made (in) the shade.

2010-07-26T14:03:00.000-07:00

Hello friends! How is your summer going? I haven't been very productive. The great thing about having my own studio/office is that it is outside of the house. The bad thing about having my own studio/office space is that is outside of the house. I really cannot expect the kids to spend but a few minutes hanging out whilst I do my thing. Just what it is. And summer isn't forever and the kids won't be kids forever. So we'll do summer and worry about being productive later.

I did manage to put up the curtain panels in the Jackitat (Jack's recently redone room). I took your advice and used the orange swirly material. The curtain panels look great, but really cut the light into the room...so I found these groovilicious old lamps on the ye ole Ebay. The lamps have Honduran tikis carved on all four sides. The lamps make me so happy. These lamp shades, however, do not make me so happy. From the outside looking in, how hard can it be to spray a lamp shade with spray adhesive and lay a piece of fabric over it? I know, right? Yeah, right. Drove me about out of my mind.

Have a beautiful day!

Postcards from California

2010-06-28T14:08:00.001-07:00

And speaking of hive minds

2010-06-20T16:43:00.000-07:00

I wish we could keep them. Bees are just cool. But they also might decide to hive in the chimney one day and maybe someone would be allergic to their stings.

But I've been reading this Internet doo-hickey and bee keeping a single hive is not especially labor intensive. And imagine the honey and wax we'd have!

I don't think these are the Africanized ("killer") bees. They are rather docile, even when I tried to get them to leave on their own with some smoke. Did you know that Africanized bees may have aggressiveness as a gene? Makes you wonder about nature and nurture.