Shih Tzu Style

There we have it--my first shih tzu.
And here, shih tzu in situ. (I'm sorry--sometimes I can't help myself.)

My own dog is curled up on my lap under a blanket as I write--this is her favorite way to spend a Sunday (or a Monday, a Tuesday...). She's a snuggler and a burrower, and if you don't accommodate her on-lap-under-blanket desires, she scratches at you gingerly with one paw and shoots you furtive, side-long, weepy-eyed, squinty glances until, well, you go get a blanket. Luckily for Sophie, Miss A. and I are watching Netflixed Muppet Shows, specifically the John Cleese episode. Annabelle hates all the ones with singers and says a British accent makes everyone funnier, so J.C.'s a favorite.

Hope you all enjoy a snuggle and a giggle, too, as the weekend draws to a close.

A Cautionary Tale, A Cupcake Tale

Hi, folks. Yes, I am giving you the thumbs up--you know how I feel about you--but I'm also showing you the PG version of my Gingher-related injury. Love my Ginghers. Love em. But I just want you to know that they are as sharp as everyone says, and that is why you should not wipe felt lint from the blade with your thumb. Duh.
This late-in-life learning moment has slowed progress on the above house portrait a smidge, but mostly I've lead a craft-free life the past several days because I found out Thursday that my summer course is going to run, so, you know, I had to make one. A course. In three days. Awesome.
Annabelle spent those same three days (with breaks for episodes of Little House on the Prairie on DVD--thanks, Nanny!--and the season's first trip to the beach--thanks Aunt Abby!) making this thank you note for one of the guests at her tenth birthday party. The child is nothing if not thorough.
I love how the actual thank you note is this teensy piece of paper folded into this 3-D mailbox--at the cupcake post office.
I'm also digging the fortune teller at the far right here. Nice touch.
Any chance, you think, that I might be influencing this artist a little? ;-)
And finally, it looks like real estate prices are holding pretty steady in this neck of the woods, at least. The price on this summer home is $6,000,000,000,000. It looks like it's worth every penny, too. Delicious!

Waterworld (only without those scary guys on speedboats)

Can I say I'm tickled by this houseboat hoop without sounding vain?
I love this little bird, kind of stoic, manning the helm. I love that it looks like maybe they've got a potted tree along in order to plant it when they reach their destination. (In my imagination, it's an orange tree. It's going to be warm on the island, and who doesn't like an orange?)
I love how those little jelly fish are checking out the boat, like a couple of curious cats.

Mark--you know, my beloved--isn't as fond of this hoop as I am, though, because he says it reminds him of Waterworld, which basically gave him a three (four?) hour panic attack. Well, you can't please everybody all the time. ;-)

Making Waves

"In the Woods" is finished and in the shop. I'm pretty excited about this piece because the birches came out well, and I like the three-dimensional effect created by the placement of the trees at different levels. (This is a smidge like the 3-D papery awesomeness achieved on a regular basis by the mistress of Roadside Projects. Have you seen the bicycle clock?!)
I'd like to crawl inside this little scene, take a nap in the shady cottage, birdsong through the window, and that makes me feel like I did something right.
And regarding this little w.i.p.--wait for it, Elissa. Wait for it.

W.I.P./Scene of the Crime

Every once in a while, it's good to just keep it real, right? Well, this is what my desk really looks like when I'm in the middle of a project. The rest of the time, despite dishes in the sink and piles of laundry like stinking carcasses slumped around the house, I keep the studio tidy. It is, after, my "room of one's own," and I'm terribly glad to have it. My mind, generally, is a cluttered place (think dirty saucers and stinking laundry), and I am able to focus only in an uncluttered space. I should make a sign for my studio door that says, "the clean zone." Except not right now. Because it's a mess.
I'm kind of excited about the actual work in progress, though. Sewing still continues here full speed, and I've realized it's been a period of meditation. I've been terribly, terribly worried--in an underground, you don't realize you're stressed until your eye starts twitching way--about those pesky "extended-family" issues I mentioned a while back, namely my parents splitting up and my brother going to war. Well, I hope the well of creativity doesn't dry up as a result, but I'm less worried. It seems my parents are dating each other (?) and my brother, having scored through the roof on his job-placement tests, will be trained for some fancy pants position in the Marines involving being in charge of a helicopter, so he has to attend all manner of schools before he goes to Afghanistan, and it will likely take a year. I know this doesn't change things in the long term, but I feel like my body has stopped bracing for disaster--a small gift, but I'll take it.

Whew. Back to the birches.

Elissa's Idea

Something like this, E.?

B-Days and Brooches

This was the first time we ever allowed gifts at Annabelle's birthday party. This is not to say, of course, that she's never gotten a birthday present, only that we asked her guests not to buy things for her. Instead, we've always taken a group on some adventure, making active fun the order of the day. This time around, though, there were only two guests, two special friends who I believed would make thoughtful, modest offerings truly chosen for Miss. A, and I was right.
We've never had a "cake" party either, but boy am I glad I made an exception--these babies are the cookies and cream concoction from the brilliant Vegan Cupcakes Take Over the World, and I made them soy free for Daddy with a couple of adjustments. Um, they taste like ice cream, people. Yummy.
I made these little swag bags, too, filled with a few etsy items from some of my favorite sellers--Kit Lane, The Black Apple, and Mixko.
It was a different kind of birthday for us, and that seems right, as it was the celebration of a whole decade of life, but it was the same girl who responded with glee and gratitude, so I think I was getting something right all those years. ;-)

And in other news, I have ventured into brooch-making territory in an attempt to create some portable pinkhousiness. What do you think?
I know this one's pretty big--I'm thinking it's good for a tote bag, and I'll do some that are more wee for sweaters and stuff.
It was oddly satisfying to sew on that pin back. I'm off to do it some more!

Littlest Birds

Though I made this weeks ago, I couldn't show you until now because the piece was a custom order Mother's Day gift, ordered by the lovely husband of a woman who has been my friend since grad school and who just--days ago--gave birth to their second son.
He'd be the little green guy there.
Happy Mother's Day, Ilsa. Hope you're all enjoying your cozy nest.

And Happy Mother's Day to all of you, my friends. You're so good at what you do.

That's My Girl

This was the scene in my makeup box this morning--a poem on a scrap of paper, written in red ink by my girl.
Sigh. She'll be ten on Saturday, and I'm not usually the type to get misty-eyed over the passage of mommy time. I regard her steady growth as a triumph for both of us, and I have--sin of sins--even been known to look forward to the days when her father and I will be a duo of sorts again and she will be a woman, all this kinetic energy finally springing toward some adult purpose. I look forward to seeing her fall in love, find work, continue to stumble and grow, as I have. I know this child is a child of the world, and I have no real qualms with the notion that she will, swiftly and surely, give me up--at least to a large extent--for this wider, wilder love. And yet, and yet...

Let me only say that these ten years have stretched me, stunned me, made me a bigger, braver bird, one wing over my nestling and one itching to fly. Let me only say that I think we will, I hope we will, fly together someday. Happy Birthday, my monkey, my darling, my girl.

Repeating Myself

Sadly, this is the first time I have ever made anything in any sort of a batch.
I've been a one-off girl till now, and I can't imagine that's going to change completely.
But there you have it, folks--three houses, all wooly, all impossibly wee.

Bluebirds and Happiness

I'm kind of sewing like mad lately. Does this happen to you--you burn the skin off your fingers (or the gears on your machine, etc.) for a couple of weeks, your brain smoking with good ideas that your hands are happy to make happen, just a frenzy of creation, and then...nothing? Nothing but computer Scrabble and episodes of Kitchen Nightmares on hulu, that is?
Of course, even when I'm not making stuff, I'm thinking about making stuff--it's that way with poetry, too. I'm always writing in my mind. (Too bad I can't get paid for all those hours--I'd be a woman of leisure, for sure!)
Right now, though, I am thrilled to be in the actual making phase, and I am, as a consequence surrounded by cheerful little works of linen and felt. "Chirp" and "Welcome City" are in my shop.
If you're a Portlander (Maine-style), come see me read at One Longfellow Square on Thursday night, seven-thirty-ish. Three loud bands'll play after, but I'm going home before that. My old heart can't take it.

The Littlest Post

Made, posted, and sold this piece--"Littlest Pink House"--all in the span of a few hours yesterday. Note to self: the people love tiny.

Nooks-and-Cranny-Type Glee

Weeellll...the studio got a little rearrange today, including my finally hanging this little clip board:
This was in order to make room for (drum roll please)...
...my rather massive card catalog! You may remember that this was a Christmas present-in-absentia from my parents who couldn't fit the old gal in their SUV. It arrived yesterday via my best friend's lovely, strong-armed (in more ways than one), pickup-driving husband, en route to a business meeting in Massachusetts. Thank you, Tyler!
I set to work almost immediately making little robin's egg blue labels for the copper slots--"wire," "zippers," "ribbons," "beads." Oh, joy.
There is something in me that loves a nook, a cranny, a label, and--of course--a library.
If a squirrel and a librarian had a baby, that'd be me. If you need me, I'll just be squirreling and cataloging over here. No big woop. (Wheeeee!)