Quick Sew

I'm not really a clotheshorse. Sometimes I wish I was. I like clothes, but I've never been the type to have a bunch of clothes, the latest or otherwise. In fact, I'm pretty excited that right now I have two separate pairs of jeans that I like. Usually I have a few pairs and I hate all but one. Or sometimes even all of them, so two is pretty good. I do, generally, try to dress with some sense of style, or I should say my style, since I'm not sure that it's actually style, but it's what I like. Not that I don't have days where yoga pants and a t-shirt are as good as it gets. I mean, I am a writer who works at home, working in your pajamas is practically required. But most of the time, I try, a little.
I think part of my lack of clothes-ness is that, other than my few years as a teacher, I've never had that life where you get up and get dressed up for work. And even when I was a teacher, well, it was the late 1990's/early 2000's. There was a lot of tan. And denim (but not the embroidered with little apple's an A+'s, don't worry) And then I was a mom and I needed things that were highly washable. But when Briton was about two, I made two big decisions about me and clothes.

The first was that I was going to stop buying crap. No more Target T's that lasted through one wash before falling apart. On my limited budget that meant that I might only have a few shirts instead of a bunch, but I liked that they lasted and that they looked nice. And for the most part I've kept with that (expect now and then, like yesterday, when I bought a cheap t-shirt at Old Navy only to find that it already has a hole in it. Grrrrr....)

The other one was that accessories were the name of the game. Because then my few (nicer) shirts and pants looked more interesting. I'm not any kind of fashion guru, far from it, but I like accessories. Well, really, I like scarves and flowers and the occasional bracelet.

My flower love has been well documented in the past but I don't think I've ever revealed my dark little secret about scarves. I, am a scarfaholic (I just heard that term and though, Yes! I'm not the only one! Don't touch my scarves! Mine!) I looove scarves.

One of the only things I dislike about living in Virginia is that there are months on end where it's just too hot to wear them. And I really do miss them during the late spring and summer. So every fall (way too early and when it's still to hot and I'm sweating wearing them but still carry on) I'm a little over excited to dig out my scarves.

So what is all of this leading up to? Well, it's just a long way of saying, I made a scarf.
I was at a friends Ladies Who Craft night the other day and in walked a lovely gal with the greatest loop scarf. I'll be totally honest, I stared. I was in love. I NEEDED one. But like an idiot, I didn't ask where she got it or even if I could look at it. Of course not, because that would have been smart.

However, in the back of my mind I was thinking, "that's pretty basic, that I could make, if only I had some wool." And then when I was at the fabric store the next day (not because I was looking for wool. OK, not just because I was looking for wool) there it was, the perfect wool suiting, on sale.

It was a sign.

Here's the rundown on how I made it. Because it's pretty darn simple. And warm and lovely and...just go make one.

You'll need 1/3 of a yard of 54 inch wide wool suiting. It needs to be wide enough that you can drape it over your shoulders if you need a little warmth but not so wide that it's bulky when you wear it as a scarf, and 1/3 of a yard was just right for me. You can go wider or narrower if you want.
Cut the edges so that they are even and serge the long (cut) sides. Or, if you are like me and you don't have a serger due to a flood in your basement, use an overcast stitch on your machine (that's a zigzag or zigzag-like stitch right on the edge, you probably have an overcast foot in the box of stuff that came with your sewing machine which you've never tried because what the heck are all those things?)
Once both sides are done, lay the selvage edges right sides together and sew a 1/2 inch seam. Press the seam open and top stitch on either side. Because I kind of liked the furry selvage and the seam sits at my neck, I didn't mind it being visible. But if you don't want it to be seen or you have raw edges on the ends, you could also sew a french seam (Sew the ends with the wrong side together, trim with pinking shears, press to one side, then sew again with the right sides together, encasing the raw edges, was that too confusing? Here is a link to a good photo tutorial)

And that's it. Done. Ten minutes at most. Hummm....maybe I need one in another color....

It's That Time of Year Again (Demo Time)

I knew we couldn't stay away for long. We always say, "this is enough! Time to stop!" and then, well, something starts bugging us and before long, out comes the sledge hammer again.
This time it's the downstairs bathroom. We have said all along that it should be the last thing to be renovated because we use it to wash out paint brushes and scrub off the debris of construction so it is totally trashed. But Will has decided that it can't wait. And honestly, I don't think we will ever call this house "done" so we might as well.

But why, you ask, in the middle of the holidays? Oh, well, you know. We're nuts. I did, shortly after moving in here, paint the walls and trim and cabinet so that it was at least a little nicer than it had been, but the tile is old, the sink is old (not in a good, cute retro way either, in a badly made in the 1980's way) and the floor is in bad shape. But if those things were the only problem, we'd probably just keep what's there for at least another year before tackling it. But that's not the real problem. Or the real reason that it's now go time.

For as long as we have lived here and no matter how hard/often we clean, that bathroom smells like a train station public toilet. Yeah, ick, right? I can go in there and disinfect every surface in the room and it still smells wonky. We tried replacing the toilet but that hasn't helped. The only thing that seems to alleviate the problem a little is to keep the window open, and right now it's 17 degrees outside. So, no.

Now, part of this is that the bathroom has no exhaust and so no real air flow, but we suspect that there is something going on with the plumbing under the tile, which means that the tile needs to go. And if the tile on the floor needs to be replaced, well, then the cabinet has to come out. And if the cabinet comes out then the wall tile comes down and you see where I'm going with this. TBO. Total Bathroom Overhaul.

The good news is that it's a very, very small room. Smaller now than when we moved in due to the locker insertion/wall move. And as it's only a powder room we don't have to deal with things like bathtubs and waterproof wallboard. This is just going to be some tile, paint and a new sink. Which, yes, is more daunting than I make it sound. But the thought of having a stink free, Tiffany blue (I think) bathroom at the end makes it worth jumping in. Besides, it's not like we're doing anything else right now, right?

Let the dust fly!

Dear Santa

My kids wrote their Santa Letters this week. And right off the bat, the hilarious thing is the difference in their length. Briton's list has 27 items on it. They range from #2 Harry Potter Clue to #12 My own baby flying reindeer with a red nose/a baby flying reindeer that Rudolf had to #24 - No one in the Grimm family be a misfit (uh...are we misfits? Maybe...)
Evelyn has one. A doll. Which she drew with pink hair and pink eyebrows. But the list just says "doll".

So check on the pink hair and humm on the eyebrows. Can't decide if I should go back and re-do those.

I love that they write letters. I love LOVE that Briton still writes letters,and that he includes things like #12 to see you in person and #22 my family to be happy and united (spelled unidid, not a bad try) and together forever. The fact that at eight he still so strongly believes makes me want to cry and smile and hug him like crazy all at the same time.

He is at a terrifying age. Terrifying for me, at least. Yes I know there will be more terrifying times to come. Like when he learns to drive. But that moment when you stop believing, it is, in a small way, the end of childhood. Or at least the beginning of the end. There are times when I think the hardest part of parenthood is the fact that they grow up. And even though we want them to be healthy and strong and happy adults, it kind of sucks that they can't stay little forever. Am I right?

If I'm lucky, he'll be like me, too afraid that if he decided Santa is not real that the gifts will stop coming. I went on far longer than any of my friends. And he may, but I also can't help thinking that this may be the last Christmas where Santa is Santa for both of my kids, which makes my heart ache a little. I know that, being the fantastic brother that he is, (he loaded up his sister's toothbrush again today, so funny) he will work hard to keep it going for her. But it won't be his magic anymore.

How long did your kids believe? Did you try to keep it going or did you tell them when they asked?

One Thing

I just looked at my calender for the week and realized that I have something going on, somewhere to be, something to do, every single night this week. All week. Even the weekends. Must be December! Really, my One Thing this week should be just to keep myself sane, but the truth is I kinda love this time of year, with all the parties and activities and things to do and see, so instead I'm going to give myself some project deadlines. Gifts to finish so they can be mailed off by the weekend. Which is really just an excuse to knit and sew during my free time :).
I am 3/4 of the way through a pair of mittens and have another pair to go (they are really, really quick and I love the yarn, so soft it's crazy!)
One Mobius scarf down, one to go (also quick and so pretty!)

And one sewing project that my boy has cooked up that needs to get done (but I wont say what it is yet because Poppa might read this!)

That might be stretching it a little, but after the coat, it seems like small beans.
Yes the coat! It's done! Well, almost. The only things left are a final pressing and the buttons. Due to the fact that someone forced the window down on our car (looking for who knows what? They Might Be Giant's CDs? Stale Goldfish? Come on people, there is nothing there to steal!! Stop breaking into our car!) and broke the little clips that hold the window up which meant that Will spent Saturday with the door disassembled in pieces, I didn't get to go to the fabric store to find the perfect buttons. And while I have buttons a-plenty, it's a pretty simple coat and I think it needs some special buttons to spice it up.

So in lieu of buttons she has been wearing it with a big flower pin to hold it closed, which is fine by her. It's warm and soft and was actually not difficult at all to sew, just time consuming. Although the lining fabric was a nightmare, I'm still covered with pink fuzz from cut edges that frayed like mad. I broke out the walking foot on my sewing machine which I have never used before but now love (perfect for thick fabric and multiple layers) and I also (I'm a dork!) discovered that having multiple sewing machines comes in handy when you want to top stitch in a different color that the one you are putting something together with. Yep, duel machines. One with gray thread, one with pink. (The multiple machines are for my classes, which, BTW, if you are a Charlottesville resident and you have a girl at the Village school, I'm teaching an after-school class there starting in January! Email me!)
Sadly, not photo of her wearing it as she came down with a first year of school always sick with something virus yesterday and has been dozing on the couch ever since. Poor thing.

So what about you? What are you up to this week?

One Thing
A Monday habit. Share the one thing that you want to do this week, just for you. Tell us what you are working on in the comments and link back to your blog so we can see all the fun things you do!
So, what will you be up to this week?

Love

There are times, of course, when my children drive me batty. I'd be surprised if there is a parent out there who doesn't feel that way now and again. But every day, every day, I am reminded what wonderful, hilarious and sweet kids I have. Sometimes I can hardly believe that I'm so lucky.
Yesterday was just a normal day really, alarm goes off, press snooze, alarm goes off again, drag myself out of bed, wake Briton up (Evie pops out of her bed like a jack in the box as soon as I walk in the room so I don't really "wake" her up) get everyone dressed, beds made... Briton headed downstairs before Evie and I to help his dad make breakfast and pack lunch. And by help I mean that he likes to make suggesstions that he knows I wouldn't approve of but that Will, in a pre-coffee stupor, might just go for. When I took Evie in to brush her teeth there was her little (pink, what else) toothbrush, waiting for her on the side of the sink with the toothpaste already on the bristles. And it's stupid but I almost cried, it was so sweet. Later when I asked him about it he shrugged and said "She has a hard time getting the toothpaste out of the tube."

It's moments like that, silly, strange moments, that make me so happy I'm a mom, that I'm their mom.

Oh, and also when we asked Evie what she did today and her reply began with,

"Well, there were these three little pigs. And little red riding hood. And a big wolf. Oh, and a little rabbit too. And a GIANT! And one pig was a farmer....

Happy Friday everyone. Hug your kiddos.

The Other Tree

When I was a kid, I really wanted a tree in my room. Really, really wanted one. I didn't care if it was big or small, I just wanted one of my very own. I think I asked every year until I was ten and my parents always told me that it was a fire hazard, which it was, because I would have left the lights on all the time and never watered it and probably would have tried to push it around the room with me as I played.
Now that I'm a parent, I see their logic. But when Briton asked if he could have a tree in his room, I knew exactly how he felt. And since these days lights are much safer and fake trees are available practically everywhere (I saw one for sale in the produce section of the grocery store, which seemed a little odd, but whatever) we picked up a teeny, teenier even than our tree, fake tree to set up in their room. They chose colored lights and colorful bulbs and a bright red star, did all the decorating themselves, throwing in a few silly bands to liven things up, and chose a spot for it.
Next to the Sphinx, inside the train track and between the water hole and the volcano. Of course. Because, duh mom, the sphinx needs a tree too.

The Wee Tree

Every year Will and I flip back and forth over what size tree we want. Since we have pretty much always lived in small houses, we have often chosen smaller trees. Table top size trees have made several appearances, especially when the kids were little. Out of reach meant that we didn't have to worry as much about the ornaments and little fingers that might get them. But then again, oh I love a big beautiful tree. There is just something magical about them. Some day I'd like to live in a big old Victorian with a bay window just made for a huge Christmas tree. But until then, we go back and forth between a practical little tree and a too big for the house but lovely large tree. This year, after remembering how crowded last December was and how quickly our tree dried out to dust because it was up against a heater vent, we went small. And since we were doing a small tree and we need some more shrubs in the yard, we bought a potted tree with the hopes that it will make it through the month inside and then through the rest of the winter on the deck so we can plant it. Finger's crossed.
It's a little bit of a Charlie Brown tree. But as Will told Briton, if we didn't take it, it might not have been bought and no one would have loved it. Plus, as long as it sits in the corner so the big gap in the back is hidden, it's basically tree shaped. And just right for our little house.
This is not our first attempt with a potted tree. When we lived in Dublin, Briton and I met Will after work and walked to a tree lot he had found at lunch where we picked out a little potted tree that would fit in our (very very very small - 300 square feet!) apartment. Then we tried to carry it home. And what had been a decent walk at 5 pm turned out to be a long, cold and very very wet walk home in the winter darkness at 6:30. It didn't help that Will was wheeling his bike and I was trying to carry a very tired two-year-old Briton. After about a mile of switching what hand and hip the tree perched on, trading bikes for boys between us and even attempting to balance the tree on the seat of the bike to lighten our load. We decided to try something radical. The idea was that we would temporarily un-pot the tree so that Will could put it over his shoulder and ride home (one handed) while Briton and I took the pot and most of the soil home in a cab, if we could find a cab on a random residential street in the middle of rush hour.

Eventually we did find a cab and un-potted the tree, only to find that it was not, in fact, a potted tree. It was just a tree that they had jammed into a pot with rocks covered in potting soil. Little sneaks! If we hadn't, at that point, been freezing and starving and exhausted, I would have marched back to the tree yard and told the guy off. But as it was, I climbed into the cab with the pot on my lap and Briton dozing in the seat next to us and went home. And ten minutes after we arrived (and had our favorite Indian food on the way) We spotted Will riding down the street, decked out in rain gear and holding a four foot tall tree over his shoulder like a giant sack of potatoes, or maybe presents, although he didn't have nearly enough padding to be a Santa.
Bringing home this year's tree wasn't nearly as fraught. Although it did require some convincing of Briton who wanted a much smaller (and frankly wonkier) tree because he thought we could put it in their room (more on that later). But eventually he was talked into it and after a few days of acclimating in the mudroom, its settled into it's above-the-heater-vent spot and has been decorated with our favorite ornaments. And now, it feels like Christmas.