House on Hillsboro

Anna Tunic

My first taste of sewing came in eight grade Home Ec.  I learned the basics and I wanted more.  In the years after, I struggled with patterns and technique but knew no one who could offer guidance. Then in January of last year, I was googling something related to sewing that led me to the first blog I ever read, Angry Chicken.  The page loaded (this very one) and as I read and scrolled and read, my eyes opened wider and I leaned in closer, COMPLETELY BLOWN AWAY.

I had grown accustomed to being the only pregnant lady crocheting in the Woman's Clinic waiting room.  I browsed through fabric stores alongside the grannies.  I talked quilts with my Mother in law's elderly friends.  But I longed for a contemporary, a young friend who I not only had sewing and crocheting with in common but also our ages and everything that would go along with that. 

 

Monumental it was that day to "meet" someone like me.  Others do exist.  And according to her link list, many, many others!  I am not some 'granny in a girls body' weirdo after all, but a member of an amazing sisterhood of women worldwide who embrace domestic arts and caring for one's family all the while being sophisticated, forward thinking, and modern.

I loaded page after page of her archives - sewed this dress for middle child, cross stitched this over weekend, had this sandwich for lunch- you should try it, reviewed latest sewing book, found new fabric.  I loved it all.  Link after link, I met new people just like her, like us, their blogs full of practical advice (I desperately need), free tutorials!, and inspiration enough for ten lifetimes.   

Soooo.   I love to sew and last week I conquered Amy Butler's Anna Tunic.  This was my first experience with her patterns and I was so impressed by her clear instruction and illustration.  A testament to this is that I FINISHED the garment AND (and this is huge) I would actually wear it in PUBLIC.

The Hair????  But the top?  Cute, huh?  Wearable at least!  My only complaint is the circumference of the arm openings.  The fabric under the arm actually touches my armpit and while that is great for modesty it is bad for someone who might sometimes on occasion have a slightly overactive sweat gland in her right armpit.  BUT, that probably has more to do with my man-arms than the pattern itself.  (Darn gymnastics.)

The camera did not want to focus on this fabric. 

My version here is the Cami versus the longer tunic variation.  I loved the tunic but I have a longer torso and short legs.  The Cami camouflages that where as the Tunic would have emphasized it.   This pattern will also make a minidress. 

I may never meet Amy (Angry Chicken) for a shrimp Po Boy at Catfish Charley's and gush over the newest Heather Ross fabric line or spend a Sunday afternoon on her back porch, each at one end of a newly pieced quilt watching Atonement and hand sewing tiny stitches, but I know she's out there creating and telling about it.  And that's enough for me.

Yeah, kindred spirits unite!  Blogs are wonderful things.  And the Internet is TOTALLY FREAKING AWESOME.

My Valentine,

I would choose you

all

over

again.

Like Being Underwater.

Yesterday morning the sun rose (of course) but this time the light was...pink.  Not a little pink, a lot pink.  And I don't mean the sky or the clouds but the light itself and it was very odd.  And very beautiful.  And I don't think I will ever forget it. 

Here is the picture I took straight out of the camera and unedited. 

That very afternoon there were tornados 'round these parts.   Aren't the two sometimes connected or is that just an old wives' tale?

Resolution #2.

Learn more about photography/Take better Pictures.

So, I am LOVING my new camera.  LOVING it.  I LOVE it.

And I have been having a reoccurring daydream.

I walk outside one morning and a little patch of trees just South of us has been cleared.  Then the most perfect little house rises from it little by little until one morning, just before sunrise, I hear the faint sound of a moving truck over the voice of Mrs. Weaver. I set my crochet out of Frank's reach and go to the window, sliding my lemon tree aside.  I peek out.  First I spy two children, one about 5 and one recently three.  Behind them, their mother and father begin to carry boxes up the back stoop.

Several days later I catch them in their swing on the front porch.  I grab the basket by the front door that has been packed and waiting, straightening the jars home canned jelly and tucking in the hand-made oven mits just so.  I pluck a few lemons, some branch and green leaves still attached, and nestle them into one side.  Perfect.

Oh, they are lovely.  As Ava and Jack play with Ada and Jake (I know! What a coincidence.), we chit chat, laughing frequently.  Turns out she is a master photographer who sews and crochets and bakes and gardens in her spare time.  When she's not rock hunting.  Or watching Planet Earth dvds with her coffee each morning.   Sigh

BUT that might take months or even years to happen and I can't just sit around waiting.  So, I got myself some books and I am actually beginning to  s l o w l y  make some connections.  Things are beginning to come into focus.  Ha ha haaa ha ha haaaa ha

I also found a digital photography blog that is like THE BEST EVER.  It's called Digital Photography School  and I am showing up and taking notes.  They have a weekly assignment where they set a certain guideline for the photographs and then pick a winner.  Yesterday, they set next weeks criteria as Purple but I wasn't able to play because I had had my computer privileges taken away for the house being to dirty.  But TODAY  the house is all nice and clean and you could still enter!  So I did.  Isn't that CRAZY?  It was so exciting.  And at the same time embarrassing.  But for some strange reason I felt compelled to do it and it made me happy.  Here is my first photo contest entry, Assignment Purple.

I have decided to enter as many of these as time allows.  And I really think, if I continue to work really hard, I just might win one of these days.  My deadline is the year 2058.  If I haven't by then, I'm going to give up.

Resolution #1.

Grow more of the things we eat.

Here is the start of my new life as a farmer - a tiny, indoor herb garden to bring Basil, Parsley, Thyme, Cilantro, Chives, Oregano, and Rosemary.

And (thank you Becca) my new perfectly petite indoor fruit tree,

that is just about to bloom.

When I was a child, our backyard was small, if I remember right - only about 50 cartwheels wide from one side to the other, but it was full of things to eat.  Daddy grew food, a vegetable garden of tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, squash, carrots and such and fruits of many varieties, like apples, blueberries, peaches, plums, muscadines, and raspberries.

I saw a seed turn to a sprout, a sprout to flowering plant, and flower to fruit or vegetable. 

I ate HOME GROWN tomatoes still warm from the sun and wax-less cucumbers with the prickles still on.

I picked all the green blueberries a girl could ever want.  Do you know how hard it is to find green blueberries at the grocery store?

It's Jack and Ava's turn.

Bull's-eye.

I hunted this evening.  This was my shot.

And while I didn't see a single deer, I did really enjoy the peace and noise of the woods and the impromptu photo shoot I arranged of my very favorite finger print.

Right pointer finger, because I am SURE you were curious.