Springing Ahead!

Though I don't know exactly how much "springing" I'll be doing, at least things look like they're
going to be a little less dismal around here ... even if it is just 5 minutes in between rainstorms.  Spring is actually trying to happen, and for once in my life (entire life, no joke) I am thrilled to the core for Daylight Savings.  I'm a fall back kinda gal, but skipping ahead an hour couldn't have come a moment too soon for me.  La Niña is workin' my last nerve this year, as if I don't have enough to deal with in the middle of March's mood swings!

xoxo

Groundhogs are Liars

Who knew?  I mean, they look trustworthy enough.  I could just be cranky since every cold, crisp yet sunny day seems to bring with it another week of rain, dark skies, and even snow leaving me to wonder will this winter ever end?  Did I just say that?  I LOVE winter ... but even I have limits.  I'm ready for something else.  I've got a terminal case of cabin fever, and I'm itching from the inside out for something other than "sog". 

Everywhere I look, soggy skies, soggy trees, soggy doggy, soggy shopping bags, soggy ... well entirely anyway.  But because once it came off my needles, and directly after that moment of "Oh God, did it work?" when I situated it atop my head I gasped with delight, "Perfect!"  And since then, this little guy's been everywhere with me.  Not too big to stuff into a purse as you're running out the door, and definitely not too cumbersome to throw on even when the temperature isn't tooth rattling.  Goldilocks herself couldn't have seen this one coming, especially if she's a reader 'round these parts. 

actually, I've been staying quite dry thanks to this little gem:  I've adequately dubbed The Perfect Hat - not because of my oh-so-awesome knitting skills, well not

There's something about February, Me, and hats ... probably because I'm bundled up to my eyeballs from now 'til April (and if you're a PNW native then you know that can drag out well into May -- and June, but who's counting?).  This time I've nailed it though, not too bulky, not too wimpy, sleek slim fit, and oversized kitschy upcycled flower made from reclaimed fabrics, and felt derived from post consumer plastic bottles (omgodzorz, it's green too!)

Now if I can stop flapping my gums about it, and get some photos taken they'll be listed here shortly ... stay tuned!

xoxo

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

William Blake

I've never been accused of being an actual Blake fan.  That's not to say he's not a genius - I could easily be a complete literary, and poetic dullard.  I think it's just a matter of taste, and for whatever reason he's just not serving it piping hot in my kind of cup.  However the man's got a point (several, in fact) and I'm not too proud to have a pretty healthy appreciation for it.  I have a very mediocre knowledge of the guy, and even less about what others have to say about the man or his work, but upon revisiting some of his pieces I'm finding a little spark of renewed interest, and picking up on what I believe is dry wit, a clear disdain for hypocrisy, and phony behavior alike, and a keen eye for irony.  I can't not like him for any of these things, surely!

And I started thinking.

Going Guerrilla

Yes, sometimes the creative process is as rudimentary as scribbling on notebook paper with a Bic pen, using a hot chocolate canister's lid to draw the perfect sized circle, and laying it all out on the coffee table.  Thing is, many times you just have to strike while the iron's hot or you lose the idea, drive, ambition, whatever.  I can't tell you how many times a great idea has vanished forever on me simply because I didn't stop what I was doing and take a note, or make a sketch for later. 

I suppose now is when I'm supposed to mention the new year, clean slates, fresh starts, and dare I say it ... resolutions?  Well, I'm not going to.  I think especially in our society, we're quite in love with this idea of the do-over, possibly even greater my generation raised on video games equipped with reset buttons.  Don't like how things are going, hey, start over!  While I do embrace a little of that "philosophy" it's not exactly how things go, now is it?  I like the idea of not allowing yourself to be stuck in a rut, and if you find yourself in one, you can get yourself out of one, and start along a new path, but it's not so cut and dry as pressing the reset button.  You bring along all of your old ideas, and actions, and behaviors that got you there in the first place unless you resolve to change those as well as your direction.  What's that they say?  You can't run away from yourself.  I believe it to be true.  So with that in mind, no resolutions were made this year, just the continuation of what I believe I should be living everyday, which is to strive to be the best version of myself I can every single day.  It sounds really lovely to say, but means nothing at all if I don't actually put it into practice, as with most things. 

Back to the coffee table with this irregular girl to her fast moving, small scale operation of putting the craft back in Craft, quite possibly the dirtiest of words in the world of creating ... you know, ever since someone decided sugar cubes and glue were meant to be used together, and that popsicle sticks were a legitimate medium.  Viva la Revolución!

Until next time,
xoxo

"Be kind. Everyone you meet is carrying a heavy burden."

-Ian MacLaren

'Twas the Day of the Night Before Christmas

A Christmas candle is a lovely thing;

It makes no noise at all,

But softly gives itself away;

While quite unselfish, it grows small.

 

~ Eva K. Logue

 

 

I hope everyone is enjoying their holiday season, and embracing this time of peace ... hopefully we can bring it with us into the approaching year, and into all of our relationships.

 

xoxo

Soft Words Butter No Parsnips ...

Or is it turnips ... wait that's blood from a turnip, and then there's something about cabbage too, but that wasn't in my stew so it really doesn't matter anyway!

Yesterday I was in full winter mode.  The air was still and cold, the sky was a watercolor wash of silver, and my faux logs were "crackling" behind the glass front of my gas fireplace, and these little guys peeking out at me.

We'll discuss these rascals first.  The more I browse the web, the more I see people re purposing their belongings into practical creations, or whimsical little gifts, and one of the themes that's really striking me lately is little woodland creatures, which has been in fad now for a handful of years and can be seen anywhere from t-shirts to fridge magnets to graphic design to probably the most obvious of all - stuffed animals.  Whenever I see a new person cropping up out there with their take on stylized critters I get a little - jealous isn't the right word - I just feel this pull to try it for myself.  And here's where I struggle, see I'm not exactly "creative" in this way, at least it's very difficult for me yet I save all sorts of old clothes, and bits of fabric because I'm a sentimental like that.  It's not at all unusual to find a sweater from high school days in my closet, or trinkets from childhood tucked here and there.  I always think I'm going to wear them again, or maybe just for the beach, or hey I could make something out of that some day!  Ten years later I'm asking myself when exactly was "some day" going to get here?  With that thought out came the scissors and rotary cutter, some scraps of felt, buttons, and embroidery thread, not to forget the stuffing, and this is what we end up with!

The (not so) New Addition to My Household

Meet Coco (the German Shepherd, black and yellow Labrador mix).  Why yes, I know the "a" is missing, and if you saw her little, black collar you'd know she's both classy, and fabulous, and deserving of the name beyond just her yummy, chocolaty color!

She was not a birthday present, but she arrived the very same weekend, and we've been spending a lot of time together, and since then as you can see, I've had very little time, well, for anything really - blogging included.  Between running after this fuzzy, little (and I use that term loosely) baby, and the new college aged neighbors upstairs (which is a whole other story, and the reason I'm awake and writing at 4:30 A.M.), I'm absolutely depleted, and exhausted.  

Looking after a new puppy is a lot like taking care of a baby, you know if babies were born with shark's teeth, and had endless amounts of romping energy (to the point where I'm beginning to search for a hidden solar panel somewhere on her back since she is MORE energized after a long walk than before it), and of course if infants weighed in at 20 pounds by 10 weeks old ... oh yeah, and babies wear diapers - enough said.  I have to say though, potty training has gone easier than anticipated, and she already runs to the door when it's time ... for the most part.  She's borderline genius, and going to grow up to be an amazing dog, she will already sit, and lie down on command - next will be "shake" and some leash etiquette since our peaceful walks have turned into a thrilling game of tug-of-war. 

But somewhere between the potty accidents, chasing my cat (whom she ADORES), drinking my bathwater, and the latest discovery of "boinging" the coil doorstop, fetching me everything in the house, or doing that weird German Shepherd sneak that I've dubbed the "Coco creep" there are moments like this...and let me tell you, she is a Class A snuggler, which is great since snuggling is taken very seriously 'round these parts.  She also loves early morning Who's the Boss mini-marathons, which also works out great since I could listen to Tony Danza exclaim "Sa-MAN-da!" on endless rotation.  Ay-oh, Oh-ay!

Well I'm off, and back to bed for an hour before she wakes up again and demands breakfast and a very chilly morning walk!

xoxo

 

Ain't it Good to Know?

(For those of you who clicked the link, I've always loved that song!)

I've been thinking about it a lot lately ... the word "friend" what it means, how we use it, what role these characters play in our lives, and what they can do for us.  I think my definition of the word is a little less traditional than others', and what my friend does for me is a little unorthodox, but I think we'd all be in a better place if our friends, and we as friends were a little less like the norm.  

Firstly, I think "friend" is the most important label you can place on a person (you know, if you're into that kind of thing!).  You can have your lover, your mother, sister, child, etc., but these people become so much more important, and integral in your growth, and life once they become your friend on top of what they already are to you.  I say this, because all of the tags I just listed can become your biggest hindrance in life if they are committed to just blowing smoke, er, in your face.  They can keep you from growing up, and reaching your true potential if all they do is remind you of how "fabulous" you think you are.  

My friend is honest.  My friend is not phony.  My friend will never kiss me li'l bum.  My friend will never tell me I'm perfect, because my friend knows better.  My friend holds up my mirror, and makes me look at myself, and not just to primp and get my lip gloss on straight!  My friend makes me look at my real self, and sometimes I don't like what I see, and sometimes we don't speak because of it!  My friend challenges me (especially the part of me that sometimes hates admitting that!).  My friend makes me stand on my own.  My friend does not coddle me, and will be the first to let me know when I'm being a jackass.  My friend never stands with me when I'm wrong.  My friend gets under my skin, and twists, and turns until I can't stand anymore, and want to rip my outer layer off just to get the little bugger out!  That's okay, I don't mind a good soul scrubbin' every now and again, but my friend will never do this for me.  My friend hands me the scrub brush, and says "Git ta woiyk!"  My friend never cracks the whip, it's my job to find where I need the discipline, and dish it out for myself.  My friend makes me stronger, not by rallying the troops, or circling the wagons, or screaming the loudest on my behalf.  My friend shoves me out on stage under the burning spotlight, because my friend knows I can do it.  My friend believes in me, why else would my friend go to all this trouble?  

The fact that my friend keeps doing this for me is what unconditional means to me.  It does not mean I get to act any ol' way, and I will be accepted no matter what kind of pain, or nonsense I create for myself and others.  One could look back to that paragraph and think, well there sure seems to be a lot of conditions in there!  I don't see that.  I see someone who has never given up on me, and that, I will tell you, is very rare. 

It's good to know I've got a friend.  I only hope I can be as good to my friend in return.