Left my comfort zone... and found myself... even more comfortable!

(From the set of the a promo photo shoot)

Having worked on a few TV and movie sets now, I have gotten used to the "hurry up and wait" schedule they usually follow. I have always done what was asked of me, then curled up in a corner with a book or my cell phone, trying to stay quiet and out of the way while awaiting my next task. I regret doing that while on the set of one particular movie I worked on, because I just watched and listened to the adorable little girl of two very famous parents (who was probably kinda bored) play with other crew members, and only accidentally fell into conversations with some VERY interesting and warm actors on the set, worried that I might be seen as trying to be too friendly, when the truth, I soon witnessed, was that they were COMPLETELY normal people, socially. Apparently, I was the weird one!

So on this particular photo shoot to promote a TV show (pictured above), I ventured outside of my comfort zone, put my book away, enjoyed and accepted EVERY morsel craft service offered me, and talked to the crew and cast... who were just FASCINATING.

The things I learned that day could fill a novel, quite literally. Makeup artists, stylists, and security people were full of great stories, information, and laughter. I would have done that job for free. I mean it!

Among the poeple I met that day, was one man who showed no particular sign of conceit or self-importance... he simply moved the limousine pictured every time the wheels or the car needed to change their angle. Just a guy joking around with the other guys, and complaining about the New York dating scene, and the materialism of women he had thought of dating. I rolled my eyes at their conversation, but joked around, making a true effort to be social. I assumed he was the hired limo driver for the shoot, and would have continued with that assumption, had I not asked him one HUGE question... "So how'd you get into the limo business?" (Meaning, as a driver. He wasn't a limo driver. At all.)

Well, the answer to that question was a story so worthwhile, I am amazed at how close I came to never hearing it. He answered my question with such a heartfelt story that he told with such passion, that I will bet he would have answered anyone with the same open, engaging manner. Because he is a real person, I won't share his details here, but let me just condense the story to what made all the difference:

At a teenager, he was headed down a destructive path.

He got into some trouble, and was given some community service work as punishment. This was handed down by a judge who felt he needed to learn a lesson, but couldn't give him anything harsher, due to the particular circumstances of a situation which resulted in someone's death.

His mentor, who owned the business where he was assigned to work, taught him everything he needed to know about his job, and gave him a chance to really spread his wings and try everything he wanted to do to improve the business. He was incredibly successful in his tasks (large and small), eventually ran that business, and started others of his own, and is now EXTREMELY successful. He still listens, studies, collaborates, and looks for opportunities. This guy is a winner.

A path similar to this one is in the book "Gifted Hands", which is the biography of the surgeon Ben Carson. So great to hear great stories! I will never forget that one!

The moral for me that day, was just ask open-ended questions, and just listen. You never know!

Whatever happened to...

Originally posted 12/15/07... and what strange timing, for reasons I'll explain later,

A good ol' housedress for the very elderly?

You know, arthritic hands, wanting to dress independently, velcro closure for the less agile, pockets for the obligatory tissue...

Well, I guess I was imagining something more... Ruby Dee...



And less... Mrs. Roper.



My grandmother has been in an Altzheimer like state since I was little, and is now nearly blind and doesn't really talk anymore.



I brought a video camera with me on my last visit to see her, and she wanted to play with it, looking at herself on the screen... she found it fascinating...

She has no idea who I am, but she is very clear on who my father is, and does not understand/know he is dead... so, when I check on her or send her something, I just do it in my Dad's name.

Her nurse once asked me if she sewed...

I don't know the answer to this. It never came up.

She's in perfect physical health, but in hospice care, due to her advanced age and mental state.

I had only been to her home (my Dad's childhood home) in a southern town which shall remain nameless, lest I offend any readers, ONCE. It was such an uncomfortable experience for me, that I VOWED never to go back... And, I have never felt such HOT weather in my life! By now, the place may have changed, since that was about 15 years ago -- but then, it was the kind of place where you walk into the local restaurant, and the whole place would turn silently toward you, conversation would cease, as if to say... "What are YOU doing here?" There is one race in that town, apparently... and I'm pretty darn sure they'd like to keep it that way. My grandmother's neighborhood was more than happy to see her move out. I heard her neighbors had been working on ways to remove her for some time...

Anyway, at that house, there were two beautiful pieces of machinery... an old sewing machine, which I gushed over the moment I arrived, and a lovely baby grand piano. I couldn't hold a conversation with her even then, so I don't know if the sewing machine was hers, or had been passed down to her by my great-grandmother. No one seems to know, and now, no one seems to know where it went.

Anyway, when she sits quietly, she simulates a sewing motion.

I know that the only path to communication with her now is touch, so I figured sending her something textural for Christmas would be a comfort to her. She's 94 now.

So, she has always been a bit of a fashion plate, so I figured a fun housedress would be great. I figured I'd buy one, and then knit or crochet appliques for it, to give it texture, so she could run her fingers across it, and sense that someone had added something to this garment just for her.

Guess what?

No suitable housedresses to be found. One would think maybe PajamaGram or a special needs or medical apparel company, or some version of specialty place would have them, right? Guess not.

Guess I'll need to make it myself. Luckily, I still have this pattern, which makes it easier than drafting one...



Here are the fabrics I am thinking of using. Maybe I'll make two.







Any votes on which two fabrics I should use?

Note: About three weeks after writing this post, and deciding to give my grandmother the first gift I ever would have given her, she passed away peacefully in her sleep.

A Room of One's Own

(originally posted November 29, 2007)

I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later, and thus we don't have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.

-Virginia Woolf

They say a picture is worth a thousand words...

Today's message goes out to Mimi, Summerset, Dawn, Adrienne, and all others within reach of my "voice".

Over the past few weeks, I have been haunted by the question, "Why blog?"

I started writing entries simply to combat the frustration I felt over not being free to leave the house, socialize and have grown-up time when I wanted to...

The triple-whammy of my difficult pregnancy with our toddler daughter to care for, followed by my son's serious birth defect and neuro-surgery, followed by an incredibly tight and grueling therapy schedule have left me very little "me time". So I started writing this blog. What I have found to be far more valuable than the catharsis the blog has given me, is the absolute joy of reading the blogs of others...

So it seems, I have found a "community". I was inspired to say this today, as this realisation is hitting me.

When I read your blogs, I "hear" you. I hear the love you all have for your children, (whether they are small or big)and the absolute passion you all share for expressing yourself through your words and creative fingers. I am learning so much through you. Today, I want to celebrate that!

Just so you know, since this online life can be isolating, there is someone eagerly awaiting your next posts, even when I don't comment!

So, why the picture and quote?

Well, when my sister was little, she painted this image of my mother at the sewing machine. It was the 60's, so you can see the color choice was very "of the moment", and the roundness of my Mom's afro is a great fashion statement, isn't it?

Notice my Mom's back to her - she is absolutely in her own world. And happily so. Even at my sister's tender age, she could appreciate that my mother had her own passion, and my sister took the opportunity at that time, to explore her own creativity.

At the time, anyone would have said, "What a cute picture of your Mom at the sewing machine!" But the picture expresses so much more than that. It is not about feeling "left out" of my Mom's creative world, it was encouragement and permission to find her own creative space.

As a Mom, finding your own space, your own moment to just create and really be who you are, is so important. And letting your children know that you are entitled to that space, and having them respect it, is vital. Well, husbands too, but mine doesn't give me any conflict about my sewing. I am still carving out my own time, slowly but surely, since I have discovered that I truly cannot live (and be pleasant, ha!) without it.

The past few days, however, I have been in gourmet mode, stocking our kitchen with homemade-from-scratch goodies. I am well-fed and rested... and on a bit of a sewing binge between Aaron's therapies... the results of which will soon be revealed on this blog.

Stay tuned!

Frozen...

I do know that one day (and probably sooner than I'd like), I will look around, and find myself free to eat my lunch on my own, take a walk, take a full shower that lasts as long as I choose, end a phone conversation naturally (not with a scream, and a mad dash to avert disaster or resolve some problem) and possibly linger a while at a bookstore. Right now, I can't imagine it.

With months to go in this crazy therapy schedule for my son, I am feeling like the smallest tasks are nearly impossible. The strange side-effect of that, though, is that the things of importance that I do plan, are so meticulously calculated, that anything of great significance is getting done, with fanatical precision.

Too much to do... feeling stuck in one spot... I'm developing a strangely obsessive, inflated concern over how long my tea steeps, as an example, and my daily lists of priorities are ever shifting in strange directions...

If you can believe it, I started this post on February 13th...

It isn't all bad, though. I am about 10 rows into my DNA scarf, with my actual chosen yarn! I did have to make some changes to the pattern to suit my vision for how I want the finished product to look, but I have redone the formula and tested it, so I know it works... and, I have a long time to work on it, so there are no worries there.


Over the past few weeks, we have been going to doctors, having meetings, and doing evaluations for our son like mad... but he is amazing us with his progress every day, and it looks like we have found some huge pieces to his medical puzzle... It is is all pretty amazing, and if you weren't here to see it with your own eyes, you just wouldn't believe it... so if you've been praying for him/us... it has obviously worked so far, and I thank you and Him both! We've still got a lot more to do, but we're getting closer to some answers and some school choices for the Fall.



So, tonight, I am up late, answering some emails, trying to schedule my week, blogging a bit, and making Aaron a little baseball shirt, on which I photo transferred this little character, to celebrate his mood lately, and his recovery from a horrible flu-like sickness that spiked to a 104.1 fever a few days ago (yeesh).

I really spent a lot of quality time with my husband and kids this weekend. I've never been so tired... or so happy.

Grainline (Things to know - part 9)

As I was saying... I made this dress in early 1995... and while I preserved its length and shape, mine was a whole different animal. I made the top (above the empire waist) of a camoflauge fabric, and the lower portion of a flowing, army-green rayon challis. I wore it with combat-inspired boots. Since I worked in the garment district at the time, it was appropriate for work. I considered it to be my "bad mood" dress, which I wore on the days I knew would require courage.

Anyway, one rainy, miserable night in November of that year, I had a cold, and a commitment to babysit a friend's child, and an invitation to a dinner party thrown by a friend. Feeling tired and overcommited, I wore that dress.

I entered the party, which was actually a "set-up" I didn't know about. Three guys, three women. Directly across the room, sat a man with what seemed to be a golden halo... Is that even possible? He was sitting next to a lamp that cast a heavenly glow around his head... or maybe there was a cosmic arrow pointing to him... who knows which?

He had on a pair of really interesting, Pilgrim-inspired shoes, with big buckles, just days before Thansgiving... and a big, nubby, beige knit sweater hugged his wonderfully broad physique. We made a bee-line for each other, attracted to the quirkiness of our clothing, and the positive energy we felt. We introduced ourselves, and were married nine months later. Twelve years later, I'm still smitten.

Maybe I exaggerate the importance of the dress... maybe not. However you want to look at it, it was exactly "me" that day, and that's who he met.

I bring up this dress specifically, because it was only shortly before making this dress, that I really learned the importance of grainline in the construction of a garment. I had already been sewing a long time, but adjusted my layouts to accommodate whatever quantity of fabric I was using. Among the fundamental, practical rules of sewing garments, in my opinion, this is where sewing approaches carpentry. Grainline REALLY matters. It matters for fit, durability, breathing and movement, symmetry, and visual effect. This was by far, one of the most comfortable dresses I have ever owned, and in this "mixed-message" dress, the soft fabric of the skirt fell into gentle cones at the bottom, that danced when I moved. That is because the side seams of that skirt were on the "bias", or diagonal grain.

The effect that using the proper grainline where the designer intended has on the finished garment is significant. It may not always be obvious when you shift your pattern pieces somewhat to accommodate a fabric shortage, alterations you've made to a pattern, or a less than strict adherence to the directions... but just wait till you wash it... and your fabric bumps, twists, and wrinkles in ways that betray all of your hard work. Then you will know the pain...

I have tried to make a video for this entry, but after viewing my attempts, I decided that the Threads site probably explains it much better. And they do... so you will find the information at http://www.taunton.com/threads/pdf/grainline.pdf

On creativity, and paying it forward (again)

As I have said many times throughout this blog, you don't just have a desire to create; your creations have a desire to be created...



Like this dress (I made my own version of the purple one), which served a very important role in my life circa 1995. See my next post for the full explanation, and find out how it relates to my next "Things to Know" entry...

It is crucial to your emotional (and physical) health to make sure you do not stifle your artistic urges. Creative flights of fancy, ridiculous projects, funny, awful, beautiful and wonderful projects can all coexist in your life. The things you make have a life of their own, and they can work in the lives of those you give them to, or those who see them being worn or used. You can brighten someone's day, give them a laugh, inspire them creatively, start an interesting conversation, or change their mood with a simple (or complicated), handmade item. It is worth doing. And, it is worth doing well.

I finished my second "Pay it forward" gift today, and am anxious to send it. The only hint I will give, is that it is related to this post, entitled "A Room of One's Own". The recipient will receive it shortly. This challenge has been such a wonderful gift for me... Mimi's (www.domestichaven.wordpress.com) reaction to the first one I sent was fantastic. I certainly receive more than I give by participating.

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Hello and Goodbye...

Energy can be changed from one form to another, but it cannot be created or destroyed. The total amount of energy and matter in the Universe remains constant, merely changing from one form to another.

-The First Law of Thermodynamics

In the week since her death, I have finally gotten to know my grandmother. Family stories, documents, information, and legal complexities have been swirling all around me, and now I see, with absolute certainty, why this has happened right now, and why these responsibilities have landed on my plate. I am not one of those people who talks about spirits floating around us, but this morning, I got a divine "wink", in no uncertain terms.

Far too complicated to explain here, but I needed one obscure piece of information, and I went to the library, with no idea where to begin searching for it... a very dedicated library staffer, was able to retrieve exactly one piece of information on the topic I sought, and it just happened to be EXACTLY the information I needed. It might not seem so strange to you, but if you only knew how obscure this information is, you'd be floored.

The family stories I've learned in the past few days would make a fantastic novel or movie, but since they involve people who are still living, I can't go into details here. Suffice it to say, many questions were answered, and now so much more is understood. I am truly at peace with this whole process, and it has given me important information for my own life.

Here's what I learned:

Make sure you have a Will. Make sure you indicate what should be done if the beneficiaries die before you do.

Love your family completely for exactly who they are, and not who you wish/hope/manipulate them to be.

If you absolutely cannot agree with someone, keep your distance, while maintaining respect for them.

Don't worry about what you were meant to be; decide who you are gonna be, and be it! (That one is from my Dad)

Listen to your heart at all times.

Like the first law of thermodynamics insists, her passing has set another set of cosmic wheels in motion, pushing her family to forge new relationships with one another, think beyond ourselves, make positive changes... ah, the circle of life.

Now, I must sew. My heart says so...


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The Birds and the Bees

Friend: Nadine is adorable, and she looks just like you!

Me: Thanks... Really? I think she's the spitting image of her Dad!

Nadine: Why would I look like Dad? I grew in YOUR belly!

Why doesn't every kid ask that question?

The circle of life continues...

My Grandmother died yesterday morning. She led a very long life... died peacefully in her sleep with absolutely no health problems. Never got to see the housedress, but that's okay. I guess that project was more about me than her, anyway. I don't have any particular feelings about it yet. Is that strange?

Well, we're processing it... going to PA to handle her affairs, and gather her personal effects.

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For all the single ladies... a "glove" story

My blog mission hasn't changed much in the years since its inception, but my readership is growing rapidly, so I am re-dedicating myself to its purpose. I want to make sure that what I write is useful, entertaining, thought-provoking and/or inspiring. Since my schedule doesn't allow me to work as much as I'd like, I need this outlet, and, thank Goodness, people are responding. Since what I sew or create usually has some bigger idea behind it, which I may or may not be able to convey clearly in a blog post... I'll continue to share what I feel I can share in a useful way.

Some projects just take years.

I am proud to say that my glove project (see previous posts: 1, 2, 3, and 4) 5 years in the making, is finally near completion. Now, the pattern seems "easy", the pattern has been tweaked and cutsomized for my hands, and the fabric choice and color has been made. Three tries since my last post, I decided that sewing them completely by hand, (no machine intervention) using a microfiber fabric with the right amount of "cushiness" (one sueded side), with some surface embellishment, yet to be determined, is the right way to go. What you see above is try #2 on the thumb, which is the hardest part to get right, in my opinion. Outside, vs. inside stitching? Both, actually. Inside stitching for construction, and satin stitches on the outside, over the seams, for beauty. That's what got me the best results.

When finished, they will be worn everywhere.

Before our daughter was born, I commuted on the subway from Forest Hills, Queens into lower Manhattan for work at Vogue Patterns, and I played games with myself to pass the time. One of the games was the "eavesdropping" game. I closed my eyes and listened to conversations, taking mental notes, and then I compared the common threads between the different topics.

I usually found that at the end of the workday, most of the conversations were the "Why everyone else at work is an idiot", "What no one understands (but me, of course)", "I know my boss hates me" or the "When will I get my due" rants. It seems that a good night's sleep would inspire optimism, and the people who were talking would start the day, cheerfully chattering about their lives outside of work. But among them, was also a good share of somber faces, hunched shoulders, and closed eyes.

Now a new year has just begun, and more than a week has passed since I started writing this blog post. I wonder why all of a sudden it seems that it seems everyone is having the same conversations all around me... over and over and over again. I felt I needed to finish this post, if only to get my thoughts out there while the conversations are still happening.

At the beginning of each year, it seems that women move into a self-examining, excessively critical mode. It can be unhealthy. Sometimes, it hurts to listen.

And I'm not just hearing it on the streets... I'm hearing it from peaple I know and love. I am noticing this trend among my single friends. Intelligent, beautiful, accomplished women, who lack partners, and are feeling lonely, sad, and confused about it. I notice that they seem to be blaming themselves for their singlehood.

Some people I know, have even taken to the airways to broadcast their singlehood. A cousin of mine, was on a makeover show, throwing a "divorce party" on the Style network's Big Party Plan-off. My friend (of about a quarter-century, now...whew!) Kysha, has appeared on a talk show to talk about her dating life.

This is not meant to be advice... I am not presenting myself as a dating guru here... I am sure there are plenty of quality men and women in the world, and there are nice, upstanding, lovely people at every turn. Yes, being older means some extra baggage, divorces, children might also be in that package, but, really, doesn't everyone want to find someone who was already alive, vibrant, and hopeful before you met? You're not "settling", you're just acknowledging that you are both grown-ups, who have been living grown-up lives for a while.

To quote the God character in Bruce Almighty, "If you want to see a miracle, be the miracle..." To paraphrase... Since like attracts like... ifyou want a quality partner, just continue to be a quality candidate.

A mate, like the perfect pair of gloves, serves to shield and help you through storms, add beauty and comfort to your everyday activities, and fit you perfectly. As part of that pair, you would do the same for your mate. It doesn't matter how many you try on... when you find that right one... you'll know it.

P.S.

Oh, and when you do, the aphrodisiac cookbook by Isable Allende (see Amazon slideshow at right) wouldn't hurt, either.


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When will it end?

Be what you is...
not what you ain't...
Cos if you ain't what you is,
You is what you ain't.

-Luther D. Price

I chose these words because sometimes something so true is best expressed simply, plainly, even if grammatically incorrect.

I recently had a conversation with a really talented dressmaker who started honing her sewing skills during a long childhood illness. There was a time (Great Depression-era) when it was not uncommon for family doctors to "prescribe" knitting, sewing and embroidery-type activities for anxiety and depression in their patients. Gratitude journals and other new-age pursuits get a lot of press, but nowadays, the medical landscape is so much more dangerous.

What is a dimming pop star? I am just so sad for Britney. I hope she can find who she is, and not dwell on who she isn't. My heart aches for her. Doesn't this facial expression say it all?



We really have to stop beating people up in the media. It is clear that she has problems that need to be handled away from the glare of the spotlight. There outta be a law preventing this kind of voyeuristic, predatory pursuit of people on the brink of disaster.

The golden prison (new curtains)

As I thought about writing this post, I vacillated between... "No, I can't write that!" and "Yes, I absolutely should write that!" While this is a blog anchored in sewing and creative subjects, the point really is the bigger picture thinking that goes along with it.

After all, "Here are my new curtains" risks being about as compelling as, "Have you met my cat? Isn't he cute?"

(No offense to cat lovers out there... I know what it is to love my own pet... well, you know what I'm saying...)

So, after waaaaay too much thought, I have recently put up the new curtains I made.
Whether you love them, hate them, or feel nothing in particular, they cast exactly the golden glow I was going for, and add a warm hug to our living room.





My Autistic two year-old is making incredible progress with his therapies. Every day, an army of therapists march through our home, helping Aaron to snip Play-Doh with scissors, string beads, put puzzles together, balance and walk on a row of thick beams, develop the skills to pronounce the words he knows, pay attention and follow directions, and so much more... He is truly a different child than he was when we started in April. He looooves being read to about as much as his sister did at his age. (We are about 20 books into the day already... no, I'm NOT kidding)

So, with all of these therapies, my opportunities to leave the house for any recreational reasons, are limited. I have started to research babysitting options. Okay, since Aaron has significant safety awareness issues, tends to choke and gag on food if not closely supervised, has considerable mobility issues, and has sensory problems that can set off random tantrums, we would really need someone qualified to deal with that stuff.

For any quality person to take on such a job, money would be a motivating factor, and she would need to have a regular schedule. Problem is, who would be qualified, willing AND only need part-time work? The kicker, is that she can't be elderly, because she has to be strong enough to physically handle Aaron.

I would also have to have the patience to train such a person, take her on in the Mommy's helper role until we were both comfortable, AND make sure she knows CPR and the Heimlich maneuver... well, it is a second job for me, too!

I hung the curtians up before hemming them to check the "feel", and asked my 6-year old, Nadine, if they looked a bit crooked. "Yes," she replied, "and perfect."



My husband worries about any stranger caring for my son. I understand that, but every single person you've never met is a "stranger". All of Aaron's therapists were once "strangers". We have to start working on involving someone else in our lives, before I go stark raving mad...

So, in the past few weeks, being hit with the realization that Aaron will require special supervision for years to come, most likely, started to scare me. So, we were in a fabric store, and I saw the striped sheer fabric with the gold bars. I chuckled to myself, and thought it would be the perfect addition to my "golden prison". I hope there is a person out there who can really help our family, giving me a break to just take a walk by myself, have a cup of coffee by myself, go to the movies with my husband without requiring the kids to be asleep... you know... real life.

So, as Nadine has reminded me, our life is crazy, busy, demanding, complicated, and yes... "perfect".

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If you held the microphone...

I have this thing about T-shirts...

I often see T-shirts with funny sayings, snarky comments, sometimes offensive, yet hilarious statements... and I think to myself "Would I want that to be my message of the day?" The answer is usually "No", unless I would be willing to let a stranger make a snap judgement about me based on that T-shirt.

So, sometimes, when I sit down to write a blog entry, I imagine that the whole world is silent, and that there is one universally understood language. I step up to the podium, and take the microphone... I have just a few minutes to make an impact.

What do I say?

If I say it, what is my goal, my pupose, my wish for everyone within earshot?

Well, I probably already said some version of it in my post on Lacemaking and What We Can Learn from Spiders. There is something so unique and special about a spider's own ergonomic study that leads him/her to design and create their own custom web; it speaks so beautifully to our unique desire to create beautifully customized garments and furnishings for ourselves. It explodes from our souls in even the most dismal of environments and circumstances. It is a necessary communication, and, as much as we need to create, the things we create NEED to be created.



If the world handed you a microphone, what would you say?

When the teacher becomes a student...

This stream of conciousness post is just bursting out of me, so I'll just write, and you'll get it straight from the heart that way, okay?

Funny thing about blogging... I'm always thinking about what I want to tell, but not necessarily getting quiet and still enough to listen to what I want to know, and, more importantly, need to know... or better yet... might not know I want/need to know.

Make sense?

I was thinking about my Pay it Forward projects, and realized that I'm always thinking about what I want to make, but not necessarily what the people I'm doing it for would actually want to have.

Well, after teaching and preaching all the time, I spent the past week as a student.

Of everything.

Well, maybe I'm lying a little bit. What I did, was slow down (no, that's a lie, too)... we moved this week... to what is an incredibly great new apartment. I always felt that living in a free-standing house in New York City was an incredibly inefficient (environmentally, logistically, socially) and expensive way to live, and we are soooo not do-it-ourselfers...

So, with much drama and many glitches, we finally moved.

On meeting the neighbors:

Who knew there were this many nice people in this city???? We have had people offer to help us with EVRYTHING... hold open doors, introduce themselves, offer help with the kids, disposal of boxes and wrapping stuff... the welcome has been incredibly warm. I really didn't know people could be this nice.

This building is in a rapidly changing neighborhood and seems to have no racial, religious, or cultural majority. It seems to be an incredibly tolerant and respectful atmosphere. After 3 PM on weekdays, the building is alive with children. It is so great that everyone is being noisy at our noisy time! What a gift to be able to give our kids... they can run around freely in this space, in a way they never could in the house. No stairs!

The move was a lot of work!!!!

I've always been a person who tried to be great at everything. Guess what? I'm not! And there is probably a good reason for that. We all have different talents
and abilities. I've lived long enough to know what my main talents are, and I've chosen to embrace them. I have wasted so much time worrying about why I'm not better at this or that... who cares? I'm not great at baking - but my mother is. I can't remember birthdays to save my life, but my aunt and sis-in-law are pros at it. (Shoot! Tomorrow is her birthday!) I have a hard time organizing all of my sewing stuff, and professional info. It is always a mess. Guess what? No pictures of my studio are likely after the initial setup photos, if I post them.


So what does this mean?

I leraned the importance of listening to people, appreciating their unique talents and abilities, and discovered that even someone who doesn't speak your language, may, in fact "speak your language".

So I'm slowing down a bit now.

I took an actual nap today. (20 minutes!!!)

I will aim to be more patient, make a conscious effort to be a student, and find quiet moments once in a while.

Generosity... Pay it forward

Having just been called "ungenerous" in a particularly weird exchange with my mother, I happened upon this post, and decided the universe might be trying to tell me something.

(The details of the fight aren't all that interesting, but I chose to help a neighbor in a big way that cost me personally, only to later discover that he was scamming me. My mother said it was strange that someone as "ungenerous" as I, would go out of my way to help someone, only to find out that he was being dishonest...)

Here a quote from MadHatter's blog today...

“I will send a handmade gift to the first 3 people who leave a comment on my blog requesting to join this PIF exchange. I don’t know what that gift will be yet and you may not receive it tomorrow or next week, but you will receive it within 365 days, that is my promise! The only thing you have to do in return is pay it forward by making the same promise on your blog.”

Same promise here. We have a year to make good on it. First three to comment will get handmade gifts from me, and make the same commitment to others... okay?

More heart projects...

The therapists who come into our home every day to provide therapy for our son are just the best... To show appreciation, since I have so little time, I think for a while and then give them gifts that are unique, and based on something I know about them.

For Aaron's occupational therapist, I made this bag...



because I know how hard it was for her to find suitable bags for toting around all of her equipment. It is large and durable, with padded straps, and a zipper that will allow the bag to be opened entirely, if she chooses to spread her things out on the floor. It also has a drawstring top for easy and secure closure.

Our speech therapist talked about a special purse her Grandmother made for her when she was a teen. She no longer wanted to use it as a purse, but it was important to her history, and she wanted it near her, and usable.


I turned it into a bolster pillow, with a potpourri pocket, so she could fill a little satchel with lavender (which her grandmother loved), and she could always have it near her. I figure, even if it doesn't go with her decor, she can use it as a casual sofa "huggy" pillow or something.

Stitches from the soul...

I once had a bridal client, with a beautiful wish. She had her late mother's wedding dress, which had been handmade by her mother, and wished she could modify it for her own wedding. Problem was, her mom was a tiny woman, and the bride-to-be was of a much more modern, athletically healthy build. We examined the dress, and determined no flattering alteration could be done.

I took her mother's dress partially apart, and we agreed to incorporate sections of it into a new gown, for her relaxed, outdoor wedding. We went to New York Elegant Fabrics together, and bought a creamy silk that complimented the yellowish tint her mother's aging gown had acquired, and a lovely floral embellishment for the neckline, waist, and godets.




From the fabric, I made a custom, plain halter-style gown for the bride. Using the lace from her mother's dress, I made a waist detail for the new one.




I kept her mother's hand stitching on two long triangles cut from the original gown, so that the bride could walk down the aisle with the feeling of her mother's "hands".





And it was a beautifully fulfilling project. This one is a good example of when a dress isn't just a "dress".