Ta-Dah!

The curtains are officially finished. I'm pretty happy with them. Gosh, it feels good to finish something. Now, on to the next project!

Eff It All Straight To Aech

You know how people say, "It's one of those days"? Well this day has been "one of those days' evil step mothers".

As soon as I got home I started a soothing routine of beer and "angry" music. Green Day.

Take that, day. I hope you rot in Hell.

Hand Made

One of the reasons that I started my own blog is that I had become relatively obsessed with this blog. Everything on it/in it is beautiful. The writing, the pictures, the feel of it. Reading it has made my day more than once, made me laugh out loud often and brought me to tears more than I care to admit.

The woman who writes that blog makes things for a living. She is a crafter. For a job. It makes me at once jealous and also tired to think about creating things to pay bills. It was through reading her blog that I started to get excited about making things again. I stitched up a cafe curtain for my bathroom out of old hankies. I made a case for my camera and one for Nick's ipod out of old pajama pants. Small things, but fun to create.


Recently I've been getting a lot of hand made presents from my friends and family. Tailored scarves, Christmas wall hangings, sauce, peanut butter, and even a quilt! I've started to realize how special it makes me feel when someone makes me something. It feels like the person has put a little piece of their soul into that item. (Maybe I only feel that way because I just got done watching 9...)


So I've got the bug. I want to start making things. My goddaughter's birthday is coming in a few months and I've got some things planned. The girl who's blog I stalk wrote a book of crafting/sewing projects. I received it as a gift two years ago. I'm ready to start. Dolls and banners and even a horse! I'm sure it will be hard and frustrating at times but, I'm ready.


The small windows in my living room are the guinea pigs. They need real curtains. It only took me six years to decide on what to do with them. I'm sick of having various blankets draped in front of them so that Nick can block out the light in his lair of film.


We went to JoAnn's Fabrics. I only allowed myself to look in the fabric section. I nearly died of a fabric joygasm. I wish I was making a hundred things. I wish I had a million dollars to spend on fabric. I wish all of my friends had been with me so that I could use my special power of persuasion to make them all buy oodles of fabric for new kitchen curtains and something for their bedrooms and pillows and...things.


But for now, one step at a time. Living room curtains. Begin.

Memory of Sunsets Past

When I was younger and still lived in the country, my family built a house. I was gifted a huge bedroom with a walk-in closet and a window seat. (My parents also let me draw on my walls and I did so with gusto) I had always longed for a window seat. How romantic they seemed! I pictured myself curled up with a book, leaning against a plush pillow, taking occasional glances out the glass, watching the life around me glide by. I used that window seat all of the time. I studied there, ate snacks there, talked with friends there...I lived there.

The strongest memories I have of it are of summer evenings. I didn't have a book to distract me and I didn't take occasional glances out the glass. I watched, enraptured, as the sun sank lazily toward a horizon obscured by tall trees. The colors were joyous and at times, bizarre and otherworldly. It's the only time in my life that I really remember watching the sun set with any regularity. Although, in most of my fantasies of "the perfect life" I live in an A-Frame house in a cozy gully and it's perpetually sunset. (Though in real life I have no desire to live in such a house, in such a place.)

I kept the window open and let the soft smells of summer waft over me as I sat in perfect harmony with my world. The view from that window haunts my memory. It is one of the few things that makes me yearn for summer. Some of the other things are yard sales, watermelon, corn on the cob and...nope, that's it.

Living in New York state allows me to experience four seasons each year. I like fall the best and I like summer the least. I might be one of the only people who is glad it only lasts a few months. I hate being too hot. I'd rather be too cold. Although when it's too cold you can put on more clothes and blankets and drink hot, delicious treats and cuddle with someone. When it's too hot I don't want anyone to even think about touching me and you can only take off so many clothes in public. Legally.

Tonight the sun was doing beautiful things while I drove home. It made me think about summer for a minute. For almost a whole minute I missed it.

The One Where I Score A New Purse For $3.74

Firstly, I want to thank Target. They just moved into our neighborhood about six months ago. We already had four or five of them in the Greater Rochester area, but this one is about three miles from The Snug Bungalow. We aren't big shoppers in general - unless you count thrift stores, yard sales and flea markets. It seems that now we can obtain all items of necessity in one plaza. Target and Wegmans - who needs the mall? *shudder*

I hate having to buy a new purse. Don't get me wrong, I have many and varied purses and love picking up a new specimen when one happens to speak to me. I hate needing a new purse, being forced to find a new one.

Most of my purses are "occasion" purses. The kind you use for a wedding, the movies, going on vacation, holidays...I even have a purse that is specifically for picnics. I love occasion purses, they are fun to buy. Everyday purses, on the other hand, incur more stress. I have very specific ideas about my everyday purse. I hate short straps. The kind that go over one shoulder and fall down with every twinge of movement. (This is fine and acceptable for an occasion purse, but not for everyday) I have to have a long strap that I can sling across my body. I don't want to constantly be hiking it back over my shoulder or holding on to it to keep it in place. I hate pinching it between my bent arm and my body in order to make it stay put. I want my hands and arms free. Range of motion.

I'm practical and get irritated easily. That is why since high school I have carried some type of military surplus bag which I call "purse". Sort of a mini messenger bag. A long line of used up, frayed and ragged army green bags lay in my wake.

I have known for a few weeks now, that the current bag's (which I did, in fact, purchase in high school) time was drawing nigh. I tried denial on for size, fearing the moment when I'd have to begin "the search". Finally I gave in and put it on the Target shopping list. I nestled it right between two high glamor items: A mattress cover and garbage bags. Yes, we lead a charmed life. Yesterday we visited Target. Yesterday I walked directly into the purse section, head held high, while my husband cowered nearby. He feared the worst, as did I. The trenches, the long haul, Charlie. Oh but, what's this? Green and black long-strap purses? On sale?? $3.74?!? Well, #$%*^& me! The lining is an adorable floral pattern, something that I had never encountered in the military surplus aisle.

I rose from the trenches a happy soldier. Charlie on the run. Victorious.

Arrival

It came. The new addition to the Snug Bungalow. It's skinnier than the old bloated one although wider. The old one peeks in from the porch, cold and dejected, shunned and forgotten. The new one leaves room for me to decorate in front of it - one of the key selling points, if you ask me.

Imagine how much more room we'll have for a Christmas tree next year. Everything always comes back to how it relates to the Christmas decor. We mustn't make any decisions that would hamper the Christmas decor. I've tried to instill this most important of considerations in his mind and I think it might be working, after all these years.

The new one is clear, bright and defined. Sharp and compatible in ways that the old one wasn't. It communicates better. I have a feeling we will get along just fine.

Light

It feels right to start something at the beginning of a new year. It's not a resolution really, just something I've been meaning to do. Something I feel would be a comfort to me, as these small flickering lights are on the dark, cold nights of winter.

I have begun to crave small points of light, candles or store bought strands of electric twinklers. Pictures of small candles shining brightly on a holiday table have brought me to tears more than once this season. I've heard it said that certain people groups have a "long memory"- that somehow memory of things past have been etched into their biology. Perhaps that is what I'm feeling. The tug of some ancient knowledge that equates fire or light with safety and home.

There is nothing more cozy than being in your darkened living room cuddled under a blanket while the soft snow falls outside. It's a small consolation for a season with no yard sales.