Merry & Mod at home

Handmade for Valentine's

2012-02-17T08:50:21-08:00

My husband and I haven't celebrated Valentine's Day in a romantic way in years. After a few years of marriage, with many romantic anniversary and birthday celebrations (not to mention romantic random Tuesday nights), Valentine’s Day started to feel commercial and contrived. Forced.

But with children in our lives, I always relish an occasion to make something together. So as our kids have grown older, I've been scrambling to add a bit of festive fun into this ‘holiday’ for our family.

This was our first year exchanging Valentine's at school. We kept it simple - and handmade - card stock folded into thirds (with rounded corners, of course), potato stamps, a little glitter, a sweet sticker closure. We worked on them a bit at a time over the course of a few days. Just the right pace to keep the project enjoyable.

We hosted my sister-in-law for a festive dinner on Tuesday night. Our table was graced with sparkling wine and sparkling cider, candlelight arranged by our sweet six year old, and the most romantic grilled cheese ever. The combination of luscious pears, oozing brie and thinly sliced turkey is incredibly seductive. Add in the sweet dark/light rye hearts, and everyone at the table was charmed.

a good start

2012-02-17T08:42:53-08:00

The main entrance to our home sees a lot of action on busy school mornings: shoes, socks, backpacks, coats, and HURRY, don't forget your library books! Ever since we started the wild and wonderful ride that is kindergarten, I've been intending to complete this project. Six months later, I've crossed it off my list. It only took four fun elephant hooks and a length of reclaimed barn wood that I sanded and stained one weekend afternoon while the boys played with buckets and scrap wood in the front yard.

Now we are working on remembering to use the hooks when we get home from school. Maybe by the time school ends in June, we'll be up to speed. A good start for first grade!

creativity and hot cocoa

2012-01-31T22:02:26-08:00

This winter has been depressingly mild. Warm temperatures and not enough snow. About the same level of gusto as my creativity, in fact.

Over cocktails with a girlfriend last week, I mentioned that I am not making much of anything. No jewelry, no blog posts, no journal entries, neglected crochet...it's a long list. I couldn't articulate why the urge to create seems to have left me. She expressed sympathy, saying, in her gentle and sweet way, that she loves the creative side of me, describing it as unique and special.

I need to find more time for the facets of me that I miss. This morning, I have cleared off the messy piles in my studio, and over the weekend I worked a few rows on my erstwhile cardigan. Slight progress. While I get myself in order, I have some hipstamatic photos to share with you. This silly iPhone app makes even the most humble pastrami sandwich look like something worth writing about. Expect to see more of this funky vintage style in this space....

Years ago I watched Chocolat and coveted the little pan the heroine uses to make hot cocoa. Just the right size for a few cups of milk and cocoa, with a spout for perfect pouring. It's a frivolous thing to want, but I thought maybe I'd find one in a thrift store some day. Unbelievably, years later, that is just what happened. Sweet serendipity. We had popped into the Humane Society Thrift store to collect a basket to hold a thank you gift for the cocktail companion mentioned above when I discovered it.

A vintage red le Creuset pot with a worn wooden handle and two pour spouts for $4. Yes, four dollars! Both my boys were with me when I saw it in September and I absolutely, unashamedly, boisterously crowed my joy right there among the mismatched coffee cups and rusty cheese graters. It didn't matter that we were in the throws of an Indian summer; hot cocoa was served the very next morning at breakfast.

Again I’ll mention the same girlfriend, for she introduced me to this hot cocoa recipe last year at Christmastime. It's so simple, and so delicious, that it has become a family staple of snow days, camping trips and après-ski ever since. In a large bowl, add two cups of sugar, one cup of excellent cocoa, a large handful of your favorite bittersweet chocolate chips, and one split and scraped vanilla bean. Whisk this together and decant it into a quart mason jar, along with the vanilla bean. In your new, beloved hot cocoa pot, add two tablespoons of this mixture for every cup of milk. Whisk over a gentle flame until steam rises and all the chocolate has melted. (Also delicious for adults with coffee liqueur, peppermint schnapps, brandy, whiskey, etc.) Enjoy.

2012

2012-01-10T11:55:40-08:00

Nearly a month without an update...but that's not unusual for this poor, neglected project. So, in lieu of sharing anything new, I have images I recently snapped of a gift I made for my mom, oh, fifteen years ago. Purple seed bead daisies woven and wrapped around a glass votive holder. I remember taking the project down to a local bead shop in Eugene and asking for help in securing the wrap to the rim of the glass. The woman behind the counter immediately suggested those simple wire wrapped hooks. After all these years, and a big move, it still finds a place in mom's home. It makes me happy whenever I see it (surely she doesn't keep it out just to please me) to know that I made something for her that she treasures.

******

January is off to a slow start for me. I have immersed myself in the world of Laura Ingalls Wilder, after an absence of over twenty years. Her stories are so clearly written, and evoke a time of simple pleasures and back-breaking work. The writing is inspiring, capturing my imagination with descriptions of Pa making bullets in front of the fire; or a house built into the ground and covered with blooming morning glories; or a little girl playing with a corncob named Sally wrapped in handkerchief, because she had no rag doll. Laura didn't mind. As the story says, it wasn't Sally's fault she was only a corncob.

Here's to 2012. Let's be happy and satisfied with what we have. Let's enjoy our work and the simple pleasures in our lives. For now, I'm off with my little basket to feed the hens and collect the morning's eggs. How I love my little house....

tree trimming

2011-12-15T09:29:00-08:00

Every December, I fall in love with our Christmas tree. With our precious ornaments (which become more so annually as a few are broken every year) and tiny white lights on a sparse, wild tree, we are truly bringing nature and light to our dark winter days.

I have wanted a proper tree skirt for years, but could never find the serendipitous combination of one I liked and the funds to procure it. This year I considered something thrifted before discovering I could make my own with materials I already had. Ha! I love it when that happens. About eight years ago I purchased yards and yards of chocolate brown ultra suede, intending to recover a chair. Obviously that's not going to happen. So I cut a simple circle, the perfect size for our small corner, wrapped it around my tree stand and felt very merry indeed.

in full swing

2011-12-13T09:55:40-08:00

We are in full swing holiday mode around here and I've been loving it. In fact, there has been very little stress involved in the preparations. This is a direct result of my decision not to give as many handmade gifts. Oh, we have nearly three gallons of coffee liquer infusing in the pantry, and there will be a batch of muffins later this week, and plans for peppermint bark, but not the crazy a-crocheted-hat-for-every-person-in-my-family kind of thinking that usually consumes my December.

Yesterday, I finished a huge project that I've been working on for several months, got the boys started on a holiday painting project, wrapped all the teacher gifts, and put together 80 holiday cards. And I was in bed before 11pm! It feels miraculous. I'm about to treat myself for my productivity by getting bundled up and doing some local shopping downtown, but not before I tell you about the wrapping paper we made.

I found the instructions in Kid Made Modern, an inspiring library discovery. Simply put: paint with festive, pearly colors on bubble wrap, press an opened brown paper bag (even I forget my reusables at the grocery store sometimes!) on top, let dry. Ta da! Holiday polkadot wrapping paper. So fun! And pretty! Nearly free!

(The gifts are luscious bars of La Lavande soap purchased locally at Pomegranate Home and Garden for all the wonderful teachers in our lives.)

gallery of neglected projects

2011-11-17T12:54:53-08:00

Sometimes I feel as though my crochet bag* holds a stash of shameful secrets; it has become a sort of purgatory for unfinished projects. For a while this spring, I was fired up to complete so many things for myself. It's laughable: my goal was to finish a different sweater every month in June, July and August. Ha! When I am tending my tomatoes in the rising heat and rinsing dirty children off with the hose, do I really want to sit peacefully under a growing pile of wool or alpaca?

Now it's November. I cuddle in front of the fire or under my down comforter and soothe my frazzled mind with loop after loop, row upon row. The brown sweater below grows steadily, destined to become a fluffy cardigan in oatmeal colored wool with lacy cuffs and ruffles circling the hem.

This aubergine wrist warmer has not seen any action since March. Only a few rows from being complete, I think the prospect of having to make an identical twin became discouraging. The yarn is so fine it's nearly thread, and is spun out of the softest lambswool imaginable. As I type, I'm wearing a purple sweater that would complement them perfectly and my fingers are chilly. Perhaps this deserves a fresh look. After all, it's always nice to have a small project that can fit in my purse for stolen moments out and about....

And finally, the Kristi Cardigan. Using a gorgeous blend of alpaca and silk in a favorite shade of shamrock green, it's just a few rows from being complete. The pattern is lovely, but a few weeks ago I discovered I had been following the instructions for the textured post-spike stitch incorrectly. Could I live with it? It fits without any ease, and I worry that it will be too tight to be comfortable. Do I want to spend so much money on yarn to end up with an overly snug sweater I only wear on 'skinny' days? And how often would I wear a short sleeved sweater in this climate anyway?

Alas, it is destined to be unraveled. I want a perfect finished object or none at all. (Selfishly, this is perhaps most important to me because the final result is meant to be mine.) Oh well. As I once read on SouleMama, the benefit of unraveled work is more crochet. More soothing loops and rows.

This gorgeous yarn with the lustrous sheen and soft drape will become a new project, which I already spend inordinate amounts of time envisioning. Something special, of my very own design. And perfect for Spring.

In the meantime, I'll attend to the warm wool cardigan, and reconsider my chilly fingers.

* Isn't that bag gorgeous? It's beautifully made by my mother-in-law, who is an incredible seamstress. Inside are all sorts of thoughtful details, like plenty of pockets for needles, scissors and crochet hooks. It makes me happy every time I look at it.

brass bangles

2011-10-25T11:21:58-07:00

Oh, how I love hammering these brass bangles. Teasing shape and form out the metal, waiting to see this finished result. Each one is different; they are all similar.

Not to mention the satisfaction of pounding, pounding, pounding.

These are available locally for purchase at Olivia Hunter. They look best stacked on the wrist in groups of three or more. If you aren't local (poor you) contact me directly and I'll make you a custom set.

the magic carpet flies again

2011-09-27T12:32:34-07:00

Years ago, in a previous chapter of our lives, my husband and I traveled to Belize. We floated underground river caves, dived along green walls rich with coral deep under the ocean, slept in a shack on a tiny island. We returned, deliciously relaxed, with a rainbow striped hammock, a maxed out credit card, and a tiny new life growing in my belly. It was a dramatic end to the first chapter of our married life.

The hammock was hung on the deck of third-floor apartment, consuming all the outdoor space we could boast. I rocked there, sipping virgin pina coladas, dreaming of our vacation, and watched my tummy grow. Months later, my new baby and I swayed together.

Eventually I went back to work. Got pregnant again. Prepared to move to Oregon and start yet another chapter of family life. We pulled the hammock out of retirement to discover the red section had faded to orange and been eaten through by a very industrious mouse that had moved into the balcony.

This summer, I spent several days sitting on the back patio, weaving a new stripe into our old, loved hammock. Over under, over under, breathing and weaving, I attaching the yellow and blue with a vibrant red. I wondered who made the hammock in the first place, I remembered the rejuvenating vacation and the whirlwind of change that ensued.

We have come full circle, and the life we dreamed of under palm trees in Belize, in California, is a reality. We swing under the juniper, the sun and the stars, on our own tiny island of home.

on hens, eggs and coops

2011-09-15T12:36:44-07:00

The palatial chicken coop has been finished for some months. Once again, my husband did yeoman's work to create a safe, comfortable home for our clucking girls. Already, we have discovered and enjoyed the fruits of his labor. I am so fortunate to have a man who will devote so much energy to the realization of my desires. I asked for a coop and he built it so beautifully. I wanted to stay home, so he went to the office. A patch of grass for the boys to run through, a raised bed for our tomatoes; it could not be done without him. Thank you, E, for turning my dreams into realities.

I have been asked by friends and family, why chickens? I don't know when exactly I became obsessed with the idea. Most likely it started as child, when I read Little House in the Big Woods and Anne of Green Gables. My cousins and I would play pioneers and wilderness family in our back yard. As I grew older I fancied myself a city girl - gallery openings, fancy restaurants, late nights at bars in skimpy tank tops. Now that I have moved back to Oregon, I know those pleasures were fleeting caprices. I still get a kick out of such excursions, but I find deeper equal pleasure in the simpler aspects of my life. Such as discovering an egg in the nesting box, a basket full of tomatoes, bundles of herbs drying in the pantry, barefoot children hunting for bright red berries in the strawberry patch.

After watching Food, Inc. and reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle I became more concerned with the quality of the food my family eats. About the distance our food travels from harvest to table. The meals at my table became simpler and better. I do my best to avoid anything that comes in packages; whole ingredients, homemade bread and hummus, healthy snacks are the rule. An occasional juice box or granola bar is an unavoidable exception, but these are regarded as treats by the small people in my family.

And so this morning, my oldest son found an egg in the box, which I soft boiled in gently simmering water. He sat at the table, happily dunking his buttered toast soldier into the orange yolk. A simple thing, really, but worth so much more to our heart and home than the sum of it's parts.