greetingarts

green + brown and m is for museums

This week's color photos were taken back in August, during our visit to the Getty Villa.  I love exposing my kids to different cultural exhibits and events, music, art, dance, nature.  They learn so much, without even realizing that they're learning, and I never know exactly what it is that they'll pick up from any given excursion.  I just know it will be something, and hopefully it will make them fuller, rounder human beings.

Some of my favorite memories from my childhood are of my parents taking me and my sister to the art museum in New York,  when it was too cold and snowy outside to do anything else, and we were most likely all going batty in the house.  I was probably only three or four, but I specifically remember taking off my shoes, and walking inside a certain exhibit that was a glass, mirrored house... I have no idea what museum it was, or how often we went, but I remember the white socks on the glass and how special I felt.  Later, when we moved to California, there was the Exploratorium, Steinhart Aquarium, my mom and I spending the day at the Oakland Museum, eating lunch in the courtyard and shooting baskets with wadded up napkins and the garbage can (for a prize of orange Popsicles).

Interactive, hands-on museums are the absolute best.  There's no need to shush anyone, prevent them from walking past a certain velvet rope, or remind them to keep their hands to themselves.  We'll be back in the Bay Area over Thanksgiving weekend, and I can't wait to visit those museums again.  This time the tables will be turned, me as the parent, with kiddos in tow.  I bet I'll still have a ball.

l is for lists

I like lists.  Grocery, projects, swaps, to do.  I like being able to tick things off, one by one.   Gives me a (false?) sense of accomplishment, I guess. 

I guess I'm rubbing off on Rebecca, because here's the list she came up with for us when we went to IKEA last weekend to get some lamps.  Not quite sure what the last thing is, but I like the illustration at the end.

I also like lists that other people compile, like AFI 100 or the American Top 40 (Casey Kasem, remember him?), even if I don't always agree with their picks.  One of my favorite lists from way back when I was studying for the GRE subject test in Literature was their recommended reading list... but wow, was it daunting!  I was originally going to post it here, and highlight the ones I'd read, but that was too depressing, so I found another list from TIME magazine, and a pair of lists (fiction and non-fiction) from the Modern Library.  Actually, it's more like two pairs of lists, since there's a reader's choice version, too.

When you have time, go check out some of the lists.  I've seen 21 of the movies, and read 43 of the books.  How about you?

k is for knitting

You knew what this one was going to be, didn't you?  I've delayed this post for so long, trying to get the artistic shots, the quality photos, but time, energy and the weather are just not cooperating, so I'm just going to get on with it.

I picked up knitting seriously when I found out I was pregnant with Rebecca.  I'd seen this book, and the swing coat on the front just jumped out at me.  I thought it was so adorable, I wanted to wrap my little girl up in it.  I bought an instruction pamphlet from Leisure Arts, grabbed some needles I'd gotten in a huge lot at an estate sale, and some Cranberry Heather Wool-Ease.  The rest, as they say, is history.

I eventually joined a knitting guild, because every time I made an error in my knitting, I wouldn't know how to fix it.  I'd end up having to just rip out the whole entire thing and start over from square one.  It was frustrating to say the least, and the knitting guild helped me immensely.  Since then, it's become sort of a lifeline for me, my monthly getaway, filled with friends who support, commiserate with, inspire and challenge me.

Knitting, for me, is one of the most relaxing crafts.  It's like hand sewing, only I don't have any pieces to precut, seam lines to mark, and anything tiny and sharp to worry about around my little ones.  Oh, I'll make mistakes when I'm sleepy, having to rip back an entire night's worth of work (I should have just gone to bed!), but for the most part, I can really get into a groove, and enjoy listening to (and occasionally glancing up at) my TV show or Netflix movie, and still feel highly productive (sewing up the seams however, is another thing altogether.  But we won't talk about that now).

There are so many projects I want to make.  So many charities I want to help.  So many techniques to try.  Sometimes I get daunted, feeling that I start too many things, have too many unfinished objects lying about.  There's a sock on size 2 needles over there, a pirate in pieces in my orange tote bag, a Christmas gift in the works next to my bed.  And that's just my knitting!  Don't get me started on my crochet, quilt and various other projects in the works.  But, as my sister pointed out last weekend, crafting doesn't really have to be about the finished products.  It's the process, the release of tension and stress, the therapeutic value that is priceless.  So I take a deep breath, allow myself to cast on, and try to let go of the guilt.

j is for japanese craft books

You guys got me started, it's all your fault.  If it hadn't been for the craft blog world, and people like Maitreya, Sally, Lyn and others (you know who you are!), I would have a hell of a lot more shelf space, I tell ya.

Why on earth do I buy these things?  Shell out dollar after dollar on these gloriously photographed books written in a language that I (and absolutely everyone I know) cannot understand?

Because there's just so much goodness in them, that's why.

Whether it's softies (4-529-02982-4)

(4-579-11132-9)

or clothing (4-579-10803-9)

(4-8347-6420-8)

crochet (4-309-26761-0)

embroidery (4-529-04204-9)

or patchwork (4-529-03898-x), I just can't get enough!

i is for instructions

I enjoy putting together furniture from IKEA.  I browse through craft books, just reading the directions, looking at the step-by-step photos.  I bookmark tutorials I find all over the internet, and now I'll add another very simple one. 

Here are the instructions for making your own sewn envelope favors (someone, please help me think of a better name than that!) petite pillow packets (thanks, Beth!).

1.  Assemble your materials: glassine envelopes, rubber stamp, pigment ink pad, embossing powder, heat gun,  whatever you want to put inside your envelopes, and sewing machine.

2.  Stamp your design onto the envelopes, cover with embossing powder, shake off excess, heat, and try not to swear when you scorch your fingertips.  Better yet, try to skip the scorching part entirely.

3.  Fill your envelopes with whatever you like.  In my case, 6 pillow mints per package.  Try not to fill too much, maybe only two-thirds full, because you're going to have to fold the flap over and...

4.  ... feed through your sewing machine, chain-piecing style, with at least an inch of thread (longer is better) between each envelope.  Finally, a chance to use some of those decorative stitches on my machine!

5.  Snip apart your little packets, cutting close on one side but leaving a long tail on the other.  This will serve as the little pull-tab your guests will use to unzip the envelope.   

6.  Repeat 400 more times, give or take.  Really, they do go together very quickly if you've got an assembly line going.

As always, the possibilities with something like this are endless.  Size, paper type, decoration, color and thread are just a few of the many things that could be fiddled around with to create your own little unique sewn envelopes.  I really wanted to include a little tag at the end of the threads, with my cousin's and her fiancé's name and possibly the date on it, but as usual, my plans were far grander than my time and energies allowed.  But that would be cute, wouldn't it?  Like a teabag?  And since it's just around the corner (yes it is, don't laugh), I'd think these would be great for Advent and the countdown to Christmas.  Or Hanukah gifts.  Or  whatever.  Hope you have fun with them.

Now, will someone please get these dang mints away from me?  Aren't they just pure butter and sugar?  Oh, wait, no, there might be some condensed or evaporated milk in there too, or cream cheese, depending on whose recipe you use.  Phew.  Calcium and protein.  Oh, goody.

h is for hooked

I think I saw a segment on the old Martha Stewart Living show (does anyone else miss that show, too?), and was immediately entranced by the art of traditional rug hooking.  It looked so simple, repetitive, just one movement, really, yet the possibilities are endless.  Like hand piecing, quilting, cross stitch, all things I already loved.  You could go primitive, do fancy florals, bold geometrics, with intricate shading or bright solid colors.  So I went online, did a search for local teachers, and found Gini.  She was 70-something when we met, and I was lucky enough to be her friend and student for four or five years before she passed away. 

I'd make the forty-minute drive to her place once a week, every Tuesday, and a group of us would sit, hook, dye, chat and eat in her little one room home that was located in her daughter's backyard.  The numbers would change, sometimes there would be five or six of us, barely able to squeeze in on the couch and two chairs, and sometimes it was just me. 

But her place, with the hardwood floors and picture windows all around, always exuded warmth and you always left reluctantly.  Gini didn't teach because she needed or wanted the money.  At $5 a week, for at least a 4 hour session, she was hardly getting rich off of us.  Rather, she taught because she wanted to keep the craft alive, because rug hooking was her passion, and she wanted us all to know everything she knew.  I was a relative newlywed when I first started the craft (lots of disposable income back then, *sigh*), and I was immediately hooked.  Pun intended.  For my first project I chose a leaf rug,  using a #3 cut of wool (3/32" wide) and I hand-dyed all the wool myself, with Gini's guidance.  Such fun, I loved the smell, the mad scientist feel of the dye powders and pot boiling on the stove, the sheets of colors drying on a rack in the sun.  From choosing the pattern, to cutting up the strips, to whipping on the binding, I loved every single step.

I hooked through a miscarriage, I hooked through 9/11/2001, and I hooked through my pregnancy until my stomach got too big to keep the frame on my lap.  I designed and finished this rug just in time for Rebecca's room (patterned after an old Pottery Barn sheer curtain panel I loved), but after she was born, I quickly realized this craft would have to be put away, on hold.

The frame is absolutely lethal, with rows and rows of pointed needles used to stabilize and stretch the rug backing.   I'd already gashed myself more than a half a dozen times, and just the thought of that in the same room as my daughter gave me the heebie jeebies.  And the large, heavy monk's cloth and dozens of baggies of multi-colored tempting spaghetti wool strips just aren't very kid-friendly.  Didn't take a brain surgeon to figure that one out.

So one hook was exchanged for another, and I picked up crocheting again.  One ball of yarn, one hook.  And crochet led to knitting, and the rest, as they say, is history.

But rug hooking is just waiting for the right time, when I have more control over my surroundings, my children have more control over their impulses, and when our budget is a little looser.  Wool ain't exactly cheap.  Then again, neither is yarn...

g is for go, diego, go live!

My kids watch TV.  Sometimes, a lot more than they should, admittedly.  But I really don't feel that all children's programming is poison, and even I love the Backyardigans and can't wait for Kai-lan to make an appearance.  I do insist on commercial-free channels, though, since the less frequently I get bombarded with "can we get that, please, please?" the better.

While I'd love it if the girls would play chef or build cities with their blocks while I'm making dinner, sometimes (most of the time) that just deteriorates into Jessie conking her sister on the head with a metal frying pan (I love those Ikea miniature real cooking sets - until they get used as weapons), or Rebecca screaming that she needs every! single! one! of the blocks to build her castle.  So, anyway, the TV gets turned on, or a DVD gets popped in.  And peace usually ensues for a little while, anyway.

My oldest loved Dora the Explorer when she was 2, and now Jessie is a big fan of Go, Diego, Go!  So when the live show came into town, I checked into it.  And it was expensive, but at the time, a do-able splurge.  Jessie rarely gets anything special, she gets dragged along to Rebecca's functions, wears hand-me-down clothes almost exclusively, and accepts it all without complaint.  I knew this would be something both girls would be excited about, but that might have special significance for Jess.

We made a whole day out of it, driving into the city, having lunch, checking out the theatre.  The girls wanted to wear dresses, and their fancy shoes, and really behaved well during the entire show.

Sometimes the darkness and shadows were a little scary, but

in the end the adventure and fun and guest appearance by Dora really got them into it.  They danced, shouted at the characters and helped growl like a jaguar when they needed to.

A fun time, their first live theatre experience.  I'm quite sure it won't be our last.  But I need to fatten up my piggy bank, first.

f is for fancy

Since I had my first baby over 5 years ago, I've put on makeup maybe a handful of times.  I wear a skirt or dress once a week, at most.  I own three pairs of heels, all under half an inch, all of which were (or will be) worn as part of a bridal party.  I wouldn't really call myself the fancy type of gal, though I certainly do like to dress up, and be wined and dined once in a while (hint, hint, honey).

My girls, on the other hand, *love* to be fancy.  Purses, shoes, hats, the works.  Dresses, tiaras, sunglasses and feather boas.  In October, Rebecca will be the flower girl and Jess will be the ring bearer for my cousin's wedding, and they are just having a blast with the whole idea. 

Trying on dresses at every opportunity.  The lightest of pinks, with light beading and lace detail.  Ah, gosh, she looks so delicate and graceful, my big girl.  And there was no way Jessie was going to let me get away with not letting her try it on, too.

The same dress, on my baby.  I could look at this picture all day.

e is for embroidery

I've always been drawn to embroidery, ever since I was a little kid.  I started out with cross stitch, and for years, I felt as if I'd been born in the wrong era.  I daydreamed about those scenes from Jane Austen and Louisa May Alcott, where the young women would sit in front of the fireplace, stitching up a sampler or some such thing, in their long gowns with their hair up, chatting about the latest ball dance or society party.

Yeah.  Right.  Of course, now I fully appreciate and recognize how lucky I am to be alive in this day and age, with central air conditioning, indoor plumbing, and women in management.  However, I still wish there was more time for handwork.

I've been thinking of hostessing a swap for a while now, of embroidered buttons as seen on the Feeling Stitchy blog.  How's about it?  Approximately 1" shank buttons, embroidered on cotton or linen, any subject or shape, using Amy's terrific tutorial. I'm thinking you'll send in five buttons to me, and receive five in return, each one from a different swapper.  If you're interested, please send me an email (link in the upper left sidebar) before September 1st with your name, blog address if you have one, and snail mail address.  The due date for this swap will be October 15th, which means your buttons need to reach me before that day.  If anyone is interested in creating a swap button for this, let me know, I'll do my darnedest to figure out how to display it and put it up here.

The colors of the floss look like candy to me, every flavor color imaginable.  They hold such promise and speak of nothing but fun and creativity.  Everything is possible.

d is for disneyland

Oh.  Am I only on "D?"  Whoops.  Anyway, moving on...

One of my most memorable birthdays was my tenth, when my parents took my sister and me on a road trip to Los Angeles, and I got to go to Disneyland on the exact day I turned ten.  I saved those tickets, with "July 26" emblazoned across the front, and still have them somewhere in the garage, I think.  I actually don't remember too many details from the day, just that we went with some family friends, and we got to stay until after the fireworks show and parade at the end of the evening.  Just magical.  I don't know if it was the first time I'd gone to The Happiest Place on Earth, but it's the only one I remember from when I was young.

Now I live close enough to Disneyland that it's worth it to get the annual passes, and we've been going regularly since Becca was 2 and didn't need a full-price ticket.  Ah, those were the days (and there are some "d"s for you, Daddy, Daughter and Dumbo on a dizzy ride).

As with everything else, we have our routines... must go to Small World, must do Autopia, must eat a Mickey ears ice cream bar.

Toontown used to be the first thing we headed for, and the Minnie Mouse house. 

Oh, how Becca was so enamored of Minnie Mouse. 

It was sad for me, when Minnie Mouse was usurped by Cinderella and the princesses, but I guess that's just how it goes.

And now, it's the four of us, sharing the fun, the same rides, sometimes adding in a new one or two, creating memories.  Next year we're in trouble, all four people will need full price tickets, but I still think it's worth it.  The lights and decorations at Christmastime are amazing, and if we are able do it, why not splurge a little?  The parade, the fireworks, California Adventure, it's all so fun, even for my husband and me.  Pretty soon the kidlets won't want to be hanging out with dear old Mom and Dad anymore, even at Disneyland.  So I intend to hold on to these days, when they can't get enough of us, for as long as I can.