Hands Off My Pinterest!

Tutorial: Painted Peace Flags for the New Year

Here's an homage to Tibetan prayer flags that my girlies and I put together over the last couple of weeks. It involved several pleasurable Project Mornings and Project Afternoons in our homeschool, some more reading about Tibet, some more reminiscing about the snow lion, and some happy sewing for me while Matt had the girls out watching football on TV somewhere in the city (one of the nice things about not having TV channels is that must-see football games equal alone time for the Momma).

You can do this project a couple of different ways, either by freehand painting or by freezer paper stenciling--I did the same project both ways, because that's how I roll, so I'm happy to show you both options. The colorway is meant to invoke the color order of the Tibetan prayer flag: blue, white, red, green, yellow. It's your flag, though, so do what you like.

To paint the flags, iron flat some nice, plain, white fabric--

 --and cut it into identical rectangles. Ours are approximately 8"x10".

To stabilize the flags for painting, iron them onto freezer paper. Then, with your favorite fabric markers or paints, go to town!

For this particular project, the girls and I spent some more time talking about peace, what it means to be a peaceful person, and how to keep peace in our hearts and our words and our deeds (my, I'd like them to embrace that one!). Then I asked them to each draw a picture of something that reminded them to be peaceful or that represented peace to them. Willow drew a scene of the Peace Pole outside her former Montessori school--she has many happy memories of the children's peace ceremonies there.

Sydney drew a picture of a beautiful bunch of flowers growing in the dirt. She says that looking at pretty things makes her feel peaceful:

We used Tee Juice markers that I bought in a limited color palette at 70% off on a Joann's Black Friday sale, just to try out. We liked them so much that I bought some more colors and widths last weekend. I think we'll get a lot of use out of them.

The girls wanted to use the remaining fabric that we'd cut out to draw pictures of dinosaurs, and unicorns battling other unicorns, so I made do with the three rectangles that we had painted, and so here's where you get to learn about freezer paper stenciling peace flags, too!

I knew that I wanted the Tibetan prayer flag color order of blue, white, red, green, and yellow, so I pulled printed cottons in those colors from my fabric stash and layed them out to see how I liked the look of them:

Pretty well indeed, I say! Three of the flags have a peace painting on one side and a printed cotton on the other side, and two of the flags are made from printed cotton alone.

To cut out a printed cotton peace flag, cut your fabric at your desired width + two seam allowances and twice your desired length + one seam allowance. Fold it in half with right sides together, sew up the two sides--

--and turn, then fold and press the top edges inside and sew closed. You can insert a ribbon loop in the middle of this top seam, if you wish.

Your painted peace flags will be backed with printed cotton, and finished with a back-to-front mock binding. Pin the painted fabric to the printed cotton, wrong sides together, and cut the printed cotton a half-inch wider than the painted fabric on all sides:

Turn twice and edge stitch on all sides:

Add ribbon loops to the top edge, if you wish.

The printed cotton can easily be freezer paper stenciled even after you've sewn it. I know that you're worried that the paint will bleed through, but it won't. Simply iron your stencil cut from freezer paper to your fabric--

--and then paint!

My best advice for fabric painting is to use the best fabric paints that you can afford. When in doubt, I choose a limited palette of high-quality paint over a large assortment of the cheap stuff. The paint that I used above is Jacquard Lumiere in bronze--this is the current go-to color for pretty much all our projects these days, but one little bottle does last a looooong time.

Heat-set your fabric paint according to the manufacturer's instructions:

Then thread a nice, long piece of twine or ribbon through the hanging loops:

Our peace flags are double-sided. One side faces the front yard and the street, and on that side reads the message that our family would like say to the world at large, and what we would like to have said by others when thinking about our family:

The other side of the flag faces our house, and can best be seen from inside it:

This side is more personal, I think, to be seen just by us and the loved ones who visit us (and our mailman). Here are our personal visions of peace, and some gentle reminders to us to be peaceful as we leave our home and venture out on our daily business.

And if the girls can somehow internalize that peace means that you shouldn't just walk up and smack your sister and then run away, well...that would be so great.

I Love Myself Some Soysage

Soysage meatballs with bread crumbs and parmesan (but not fresh basil--too expensive in the winter) from Vegetarian Times:

Delicious.

Did you know that I don't eat meat? Because I don't (unless we're on a long car trip and I'm feeling vulnerable and there are chicken strips at the Dairy Queen that we've stopped at, but really, how often does that happen?). I also try not to craft with or wear animal products unless they're recycled (I use wool roving, but I know its source, and glue? Ugh, don't get me started on glue).

Even though I loooooong to dye silk scarves with Kool-aid. Does anyone know if there's an animal-friendly fabric equivalent to silk?

The Book Begins Thusly

Let's see...today I drank hot chocolate with my girls, I did an upper body workout with that bitch from YourselfFitness----I caught up on Battlestar Galactica while working on some more comic book Valentines, I made the girls' room all spic-and-span----I held office hours and the hands of many students as they bravely (or not) voyage their way through their first paper; I admitted that my cell phone, three times washed, has died and must be replaced by another; I gave my camera into the hands of one beautiful daughter so that she could capture with her own photographic eye the sublime beauty of another daughter-- --and, friends, I began my book:
It's a how-to and a manifesto treating upon lifelong learning as it applies to the family: essentially, the desire to learn and engage with our world is a lifestyle that we can model for our children and participate in with them. I'm interested in exploring not just ways in which we can offer our children enrichment in traditional (and non-traditional) academic areas, but also how we, ourselves can still learn in these areas with our children, and can enjoy learning.

The hands-on, DIY ethic is integral to this process, as is our responsibility to our community and our environment. I plan to include lots of projects, activities, and tutorials, lots of ideas for engaging in these areas within our larger communities, and an overarching premise of self-sufficiency and sustainability.

And, if possible, I plan to make it sound a little more entertaining than what you just read--I'm saving all the witty remarks for the book itself, apparently.

Now, friends...any advice on obtaining a literary agent?

Look at Me and How Awesomely Famous I Am!

Y'all know how I am so cutting edge in the eco revolution, right? So I often watch Zaproot, which hosts these little news-show clips of breaking news on the enviromental front--they're nice because they usually report positive environmental acts or encourage people in concrete positive environmental acts they themselves can take, etc.--I'm really not so much into downer news because then I feel all bummed and powerless, so I like their method. Matt hates all their quick cuts, by the way, but I'm all, "Dear, it's supposed to be edgy. That's what kids like these days."

Well, imagine my surprise while watching the latest Zaproot to see...well, me!

Keep an eye out at around 51 seconds into the video, and you'll see a screenshot of my Crafting a Green World post about writing my reps to protest the CPSIA:


Ah, fame. I have become so powerful that my mere image can now be used as shorthand for what I represent.

Resolutions, Both Crafty and Not

Sure, sure, I'm happy to be home, but I forgot a little bit that home is chronically filthy, and that cabin was so, so spick-and-span. I'd also perhaps rather spend a few more evenings gazing at this--

--instead of what I'm currently gazing at, which is, in essence, you guys I suppose, so take that as you will--hee!

I wrote up my New Year's Resolutions on the car ride home in my newest and most bestest friend ever (although I took a hefty break around St. Louis to fiddle with and curse Matt's new GPS thingie--you'd think it would know that one whole damn highway has been closed for three months and help us navigate AROUND it to get to Whole Foods, but no, it's all "Take that one highway! No, seriously, take that one particular highway!" Grrr). Here is where I stand:

1. Be healthier (Subpoint #1 Exercise every day. Subpoint #2 Limit junk food). As far as Subpoint #1, I actually did start yesterday this one-month membership at Curves that I won in a silent auction, um...last February? Curves? Is awesome! As far as Subpoint #2, my partner (who's not necessarily still at his beginning-of-our-relationship fighting weight, either) keeps buying orange rolls and frozen pizzas--I don't think he got the memo.
2. Work on book proposals, magazine submissions, and self-published project how-tos. Yep, wouldn't it be nice if I could write AND craft, all at the same time? I enjoyed writing my piece for Craft magazine so super-much that it got the little hamster in my head running overtime on its little hamster-wheel of ideas.
3. Keep a clean house (Subpoint #1 Everything organized. Subpoint #2 Everything neat. Subpoint #3 Everything clean). Yeah, y'all who know me, or at least who have seen certain self-revelatory photos of my study, are laughing your asses off right now, I know, but it's a dream of mine! And just today Matt and I went through all kinds of marital discord trying to agree on fabric storage and an additional table in my study (update: we did NOT agree), and I bought the girls each their own miniature whisk broom, dustpan, and spray bottle for vinegar water. Maybe some work will finally get done around here.
4. Keep working on craft fairs, etsy, and blogging. Cause maybe some day the whole "for fun AND profit" thing will apply to them.
5. Do something good for Matt every week. On account of I heard somewhere that you're not actually supposed to take your husband for granted all the time..........whatever.
6. Decorate the house really cool. I totally want to be one of those people whose house looks really creative and awesome, with surprising yet beautiful paint colors and whimsical little touches and stuff. And while we were at the Re-store today, Matt would not let me buy the aisle of theater seats OR the bank of apartment mailboxes--you see what I'm trying to work with here?
7. Teach the girls every day. I like to make more work for myself, so even though Will attends a half-day preschool, I still feel the need to make their homelife enriching and creative and attentive to all their mental and physical needs--I'm a part-time homeschooler.
8. Get really, really good at DanceDanceRevolution. Cause that counts as exercise, right?

P.S. Check out my two posts about my Mama's old quilts and how to care for them over at Crafting a Green World.

Love for Nie

I'm not so much into Jesus-lovin', myself, but I do love this blog by a Jesus-lovin', homebirth-having mama with four kids and, obviously, lots of kid-related adventures. For some reason I am always, for instance, thinking of this post and cracking up, because for some reason I, too, am always being subjected to the weirdest freak-outs by people of authority about my children. One of my mom friends who's a relatively recent transplant here and so far is just not feeling the small town love claims that Bloomington is the nation's home for displaced busy-bodies, but I, personally, get people all judgmental about my neglectful parenting everywhere.

Matt's theory about "neighborliness" in smaller cities and towns is that in a big city, nobody cares how you act because they'll never see you again, and anyway, they've got business of their own to take care of and they don't need to take time away from it to tell you your kid should be wearing a helmet while tricycling. In a smaller city or small town, however, people have a bigger stake in how you behave because they're likely going to see you around A LOT. I can't even tell you how many Bloomington people I've never met but who I know by sight because I see them every week at the library, the farmer's market, Bryan Park, and Joann's. When people see you around a lot, they'd probably prefer if your kid didn't always do annoying shit right in front of them or endanger her life so that they can't enjoy their latte for fear that the kid will fall off the top step and crack her head open and then they'll have to step in and call 911 and worry about minute rollover or whatever. Of course, in a small town those same busy-bodies will also sneak up to your house in the dead of night and leave a big grocery bag of cucumbers and tomatoes on your porch, so there you go.

Anyway...the blogger and her husband, and anyone knows that if you read someone's blog you feel as if you know them so well, were in a terrible plane crash last month and are very seriously injured. Here's the family-run blog about their recovery and the fundraising being done to help them--I'm not so much about the fasting in their honor, or the race, but I was all about the two-day benefit sale on etsy. New items will be added today around 1:00 pm-ish for those kicking it here in the Eastern time zone, but you should also check out the awesome stuff that sold yesterday.

Little Ladies with Style

Even though I work a lot with clothes--sewing them, thrifting them, refashioning them, etc.--we are not a family who puts much emphasis on what we wear. I buy/sew clothes for the girls that are roomy, comfy, NOT trendy (if you don't have little girls, you probably don't know that you can buy low-rise jeans, shirts that proclaim one to be a heartbreaker who's looking for a boyfriend, and bikini-cut panties for your four-year-old), not girly (since the girls were babies, I've often made it a point to dress them in clothes gendered male because I know that people react differently to small children based on how they're outwardly gendered and I'd rather people think my babies are boys and call them sport and tell them how strong they look than think they're girls and call them princess and tell them how pretty they look--you know?), and I'm a sucker for costume stuff and vintage stuff and stuff containing pop culture media references from my own youth.

It's interesting to me, then, to witness my daughters' relationship to clothes. Willow has dressed herself since she was about two and a half, choosing her entire outfit each day--the only conditions I put upon her are that she has to cover her genitalia if she wants to leave the yard and she has to follow the school dress code when dressing for school (Montessori dress code isn't too big of a deal, since it's pretty common sense--play clothes instead of dresses; sneakers instead of cowboy boots or sandals; no pop culture media references; no jewelry; no costumes. Will's teacher only starts to get REALLY crazy when winter comes and she's telling you what kind of zipper she wants on your kid's snowsuit and hanging up an example of the kind of gloves you're NOT supposed to buy--after 40+ years in the game, the lady has her opinions).

I usually choose Sydney's outfit and dress her, because she has yet to have any interest in those activities for herself. Oh, and I'll occasionally make/sew matching articles of clothing for the girls and ask them to, in Willow's words, "be matches" now and then for my own amusement.

So for the past several days, when I've thought of it, I've been taking photos of the girls after they've finally gotten dressed for the day. I get a kick out of seeing what they're wearing and where it came from: This was yesterday, just before school. Sydney is wearing a striped onesie that her Grandma Janie bought her on clearance at Target two summers ago; white leggings with green butterflies that Grandma Janie bought at Old Navy and sent her last month (Willow has a matching one with pink butterflies, but the seams ripped in it the first time she wore it--I have my suspicions about Old Navy's workmanship); a wool vest that I bought at Goodwill; and red and pink shoes that I scored when I ended up transporting garage sale leftovers after a fundraiser (that I would be "going through" said garage sale leftovers before dropping them off at Goodwill was understood. Probably. (ahem)).
Willow is wearing a ratty old pajama top with planets and astronauts on it that I had intended to be a painting shirt when I dumpster-dived it; a pair of embroidered jeans from Goodwill; and a pair of pink and white shoes handed down from one of her little girlfriends--the growing-like-a-weed little girl blew through them in about a week, but they're still about two sizes too big for Willow, not that she cares.


This was not a school day, obviously--I don't know if you can tell, but the girls have removed the frame from my laundry bag in the closet and are using it as their "ballet barre" while they try to imitate the positions in the ballet book there in front of me. Willow is wearing a tutu I made for her while Sydney is wearing a dance skirt that was one of her birthday presents from a little neighbor girl; they're both wearing handmade necklaces, also gifts from the same party.

Oops, I shouldn't have let Willow wear those Powerpuff Girls pajama pants to school! With it she's wearing a grey velvet shirt from Goodwill, and Sydney is wearing conductor overalls sent years ago from Grandma Shoemaker to baby Willow in honor of Grandpa Shoemaker's career on the rails, and a dumptruck sweatshirt from the sidewalk exchange at our Recycling Center.

Here Sydney is wearing a flowered shirt and flower-cuffed capris (long pants last winter) that match but that I got from the Recycling Center on DIFFERENT days (wahoo!), and Willow is wearing a housefly shirt and comfy sweats from Goodwill. They're both wearing their matching candy-pink Converse Chuck Taylors from the mall.

This is Willow's school picture day, God help us. I've obviously just finished scrubbing her face to remove most of the black marker, but she chose a red shirt from Goodwill, a dumpster-dived kitty cat swing shirt (formerly a dress), plaid shorts from Goodwill, and mismatched socks. Sydney is wearing a vintage polyester dress from the Salvation Army thrift store and a blue Fuzzi Bunz.

And here Willow is wearing a ratty and poorly handmade dinosaur T-shirt that I picked up at the Recycling Center solely for the fabric but that is now, of course, Willow's most very favorite shirt that she wears everywhere so people can think I awkwardly and unevenly stitched it together for her and DIDN'T FINISH THE SEAMS! Anyway...Sydney has on a red dress with faux fur trim, also from the Recycling Center, and hiking boots that a friend gave me, assuring me her kid hardly wore them.

So I have no idea what patterns are revealed here, or what it's supposed to say about my children and their relationship to clothes. Does Willow wear whatever comes to hand first, or does she have some obscure reasoning as to color combination, material, or pattern? Does Sydney actually match in regards to what I dress her in, or sort of not? Do they look like all their clothes were originally worn by some other kids?

Or do they look totally awesome?

Curious Little Monkey

My third class session isn't even until tonight, and already I've had the following cliched emails from students:

• the long, meandering story about how he missed class because he couldn't find it even though he "wandered around" Ballantine Hall for 25 minutes looking for it--oh, and there was no capitalization of his sentences--???


• the concise email consisting of four bullet-point questions asking about finicky little details in the five-point homework assignment due tonight


• the stupid question that asks about the exact same thing that I said three times in class on Monday--no, there's no forum open for tonight's homework assignment, because you're turning it in during class!

Normally, I'm actually pretty fond of my classes--teaching isn't necessarily my life's dream, but it has purpose, and I consider teaching some of my fellow humans effective written communication skills to be something of a mission of service. This semester, though, I've just started off really twitchy from the beginning. I dread having to get myself and the girls ready for the parent trade-off, I really miss my family during the three evening hours three times a week that I'm gone, and the late-night bike ride home leaves me still exhausted the next morning. I've also been feeling twitchy about Will's preschool lately, too--Bloomington Montessori is such a terrific school, and Willow absolutely adores it, but it's crazy-expensive, and I'm not sure how well a school institution, even a cool one like Montessori, fits with my parenting values. So, yeah, it is completely impossible this year for me to renege on my teaching contract and pull my girlie out of school, but my reactions at the start of this new school year are something to think about...

Know who else likes thinking about stuff? Curious George!

This is the first quilt I've posted on etsy in a while, since I've instead been making a few for the house, but eventually, of course, I ran into my perennial problem when I find that I really like making something--um, how many T-shirt quilted wall hangings do we need?

With these little guys, though, and unlike with the bigger quilts, I loooove quilting. Can you tell?

I don't normally do a lot of quilting to my full-size T-shirt quilts because they're already so busy that I think more pattern is distracting, but with these single-image quilts it's much easier to quilt a really creative, elaborate design that only enhances the primary image. Yay.

Oh, and yes, the Star Wars quilt is off of my etsy shop--it's happily wending its way over to its new home right now. And no, I don't know when I'll make another. I can only make a full-size quilt after I collect several T-shirts, and that depends on Goodwill and the dumpster diving.

Fourth Street Festival is Crowded

Even though it's a little too high-falutin' for my tastes and I can't afford to buy anything, I look forward to the Fourth Street Festival for most of the year. It's a genuine large, important craft fair right here in humble old Bloomington, Indiana. It has its flaws--there's not enough walking space in front of the booths, so it's mighty crowded, for one thing--but a craft fair is a craft fair is a craft fair, and this one is very high quality.

I have to go back tomorrow, though, because my visit there was spoiled today. First, the people at the booth with the amazingly complicated set-in wood puzzles--Noah's ark, for instance, and it's a real wooden ark but also a puzzle consisting of all the pairs of animals die-cut into the wood--that cost a billion dollars not only refused my nice request to take a photo of one beautiful puzzle, but also acted like I was a spy committing industrial espionage. Okay, okay, I know this does happen sometimes, or people claim it does, but seriously, is a mom with a toddler in a mei tai on her back and an amateur camera set to auto-focus who wants to take one photograph of one cool puzzle really and truly going to then go and have that puzzle made for a buck in India to sell at Wal-mart and undersell these craft fair people? Um, seriously, no. And even if I did, it's not like die-cutting a puzzle is really a trade secret the discovery of which will throw these craftsmen out of business--the puzzle was super-cool, but even I know how to die-cut, and someone whos's going to pay $500 for that Noah's Ark doesn't even go to Wal-mart. Admittedly, I'm a rank amateur at craft fairs, but I like to be nice to people, especially if they ask for things nicely. Maybe it's the southern in me, but even if I have to decline someone's request, like if they want to bargain, and even if I think their request is rude, like if they tell me they make quilts that are better than mine so how much should they charge at a craft fair (happened!), I still turn what I say into a little conversation, not just a "Sorry, no," and a turn away. Fine, I admit it, I felt snubbed and it totally bothered me--how old am I?

Matt and I also got into this insane fight because he doesn't listen to me. When I said, "I'll be right here. I'm going to walk up and then down," I meant that I'd be right here in the craft fair, walking up the aisle we were on and then back down. Is that really that hard to interpret? Well, Matt interpreted, "I'll be right here in front of this one random pottery booth, walking up and down right in front of it for the twenty minutes you'll be gone." Seriously? So I walk up the aisle and then back down, and it only takes about five minutes because I'm still mad about that industrial espionage of die-cut puzzles thing, so I figure I can catch Matt coming back from the car, where he'd gone to get Syd's water bottle. I rush back and do see Matt coming back, but as I'm waiting to cross Kirkwood he grabs Willow's hand and disappears down a back alley. Seriously. I rush around and try to cut him off, but he's just gone. So I go back to the end of the aisle, the "back down" part, and it's also, incidentally, where we all came in. Where do you meet someone if you lose them someplace big and crowded? Why, you meet them where you came in, of course! Merely common sense. And after several minutes, I do see Matt coming through the crowd, carrying Willow, peering into booths looking for me. Except, six booths from the end of the aisle, too far for me to shout and hear him and apparently too far for him to see me standing right there in the middle of the road, he ducks between two booths and totally disappears. Again. I run around to try to catch him, but he's gone. Syd and I still wait for another half an hour, until she's bawling in her mei tai, and then we head to the other place you go if you lose someone someplace big and crowded. Can you guess? Of course--we go to the car. We wait at the car for at least another half an hour. We miss the kick-off for the IU game we're supposed to be attending. And, yeah, when Matt finally comes to the car he starts to yell, then I start to yell, then he yells "Don't you yell at me!" and yells something else and gives me a little push just like a man who has lost his mind and I walk home. And that's why my day sucked.

In Which I Mend My Family's Clothes

I need to wait for batting to go on sale at Joann's this weekend before I can finish my quilted T-shirt wall hangings (Isn't that always the way?), so this week I've been taking up the huge piles of mending that I've been steadily putting aside for months, waiting for a time when mending didn't actually sound like something that sucked. So instead of telling you that I did sooooo many awesome things today, I get to tell you that I sewed a hook back onto my bra strap, put a zipper into a too-small jumper I made for Sydney last year so that she can wear it throughout the winter-- --although she'd rather wear it like this--
--reinforced all the seams in my Ren Faire dress, threw out two pairs of ripped pants that I looked at again and thought, "What's the point?", made bias tape and hemmed my most favorite pair of jeans ever--
--and printed and cut out with an exacto knife some of the stencils I'm going to paint over weird stains in my family's clothes. So far I've been able to use stash for my repairs--vintage zipper, polka dot fabric gifted from a previous craft fair attendee, etc.--but tomorrow I'm going to get to wend my way over to Hobby Lobby for fusible webbing so I can embroider over holes Syd has been cutting into her T-shirts.

My goal (except with, um, the bra, and I guess the Ren Faire dress, because it's already so awesome) is to leave each of the mended clothes with more personality, make each better looking, than it looked when I originally acquired it. Mending my family's tattered clothes involves more than what the mom of one of Willow's schoolmates must have thought today when, upon hearing what I'd been up to while Will was at school, she exclaimed, pity on her face, "You must be so frugal!" Well, yeah, I do like to save my family's money for take-out pizza and weekend trips to Chicago, but that's not why I ironed the word "STELLA" over the permanent marker stain in Willow's green shirt and then hand-sewed star beads all over it--I did that because sure, it's not as easy as just throwing the shirt out and buying her a new one at Target, but she's not easy, and raising her isn't easy, but I do raise her lovingly, with thoughtfulness and care, as well as mess and fun, and if that love and care and fun (and mess?) can be reflected in external ways, what she wears and plays with and lives in, then so much the better for the world to look at my happy, bright, energetic kiddos in their hand-embellished T-shirts and think, "Somebody loves those little girls."

Hmmm... but what does the world think when it sees my partner in his hand-stenciled Darth Vader T-shirt?

Why Christmas Isn't Really in July

I may possibly have been bailed upon by my partner in Craftster's Christmas in July Stashbuster Swap--either that, or something bad happened to her. Online buddies are probably beyond the last to know when tragedy strikes. I'm very bummed, because my partner was a knitter, and she had a stash of HARRY POTTER HOUSE COLOR YARN!!! Oh, some things are just not fair. I did possibly bring it upon myself, however, due to my intense desire to always be right. You see, I got into a little tiff with the organizer of the swap on account of this rule that when you're involved in a swap, you have to post in the swap forum at least once a week. I suppose it's so the organizer knows you're still alive and crafting, but I think it's a pain to have to have one more weekly chore to remember related to what is supposed to be a fun activity, and, since nobody wants to actually talk in the forum about what they're making, because they want it to be a surprise, the forum conversation tends to be non-crafty, and I really just don't want to be required to post weekly. My counter-argument is that since posting and crafting are two different animals entirely, weekly posting is no sign that you're actually doing your swap work and will send on time. Case in point: I posted maybe once, after I was basically forced to, and I sent early. My partner posted weekly just like she was supposed to, and she's apparently dead in the water. So there.

Anyway, here's what I made for my partner. Her family has six, count 'em six, holiday trees, and I made a set of ornaments for each tree. The littlest kiddo loves to color, so his set is made from crayons melted into heart molds, with an ornament hanger melted into the back of each one:

The little girl's favorite colors are blue, pink, and purple, so I hand-sewed her set out of blue denim, and added pink and purple beads:

I forgot to photograph the other little girl's set, but her favorite color is red, so I made her ornaments all from different red fabrics--faux fur, silk, plaid flannel, felted wool, etc.

The eldest kiddo likes red with black, so his set is made from felted wool:

The main tree in the house is decorated in blue, silver, and white, so I also made a set of ornaments out of my blue glitter vinyl. I really liked how these turned out, although vinyl doesn't photograph well:

I also really, really like the fangeek set of ornaments I made for the "handmade ornaments" tree. They're all sewn from black denim with black beaded hangers, but each person in the family has a front and back T-shirt transfer of their own, personal fangeek obesssion on their own ornament.

The littlest kid loves Pokemon: Pikachu is on the other side of his ornament, of course.

The little girl likes the Junie B. Jones book series: A cover from another of the books is on the other side of her ornament.

The other girl loves Green Day (awesome kid):

A photo of the entire band is on the other side of her ornament.

The eldest kids loves Magic, the Gathering:

Another player's card is on the other side.

My partner's husband loves Aqua Teen Hunger Force:

Master Shake is on the other side of his:

And my partner loves Harry Potter, especially Slytherin House:

The other half of this battle scene, depicting the good guys, is on the other half of her ornament.

Eh, it was fun to make stuff for other people, even if I don't hear back from my partner's family to see if they liked it. It is good practice for Christmas, anyway, you know--sending lovingly handmade gifts to family members who don't send thank-you notes, or watching them open presents you spent hours on and not totally fawn over them--not that I make gifts for other people in order to be fawned over. Ahem. Yep, happy Handmade Holiday!

Wedding! Wedding! Wedding!

There's nothing like how a wedding tends to take over everything in its vicinity, and it's not even your wedding. This weekend has been all "Wedding! Wedding! Wedding!", and I did not even attend the said wedding of one of Matt's first cousins, on account of they didn't invite children. Obviously I have been all about complaining about this and all the levels upon which it is wrong (philosophically, ethically, logistically, etc.), and in debates with child-free apologists, neither of the excuses of "That's just the way most people do it these days" and "Well, it's their wedding" fly with me. Firstly, I don't care if not inviting children is trendy right now. Barring real limitations (say, the wedding is taking place in a nightclub, or a porn studio), it's rude not to invite particular members of someone's immediate family. I see it the same as if the wedding read, "Blood family members only." See? Rude!

Not inviting children also doesn't apply as one of those wedding planning whims, such as whether or not to serve cake. It's a real inconvenience to the families invited, many of whom are already at great time and expense to come to the wedding because they love you so much, and they would feel terrible if they couldn't be there to see you. Mind you, the bride and groom did arrange a hella expensive group babysitting service for the duration of the wedding, and this actually would have been a fine solution, if this babysitting had taken place AT THE WEDDING LOCATION. But nope. The babysitting was to take place at the hotel at which the families were all to stay, and the wedding and reception took place at a winery a half-hour shuttle ride from the wedding, shuttles running from 4:00-5:00 and 9:00-12:00. Seriously? Seriously, no way for a parent to check on a child, no way for a parent to respond to an emergency phone call from the service, and it's expensive. None of the people who had family obligations to go to the wedding, but also had children found this appropriate. For instance, in this wedding the groom's sister has a two-year-old and a breastfeeding three-month-old--they're not invited. She brought a family friend with her from her hometown, paying her way, so her small children could be supervised one-on-one by a familiar face. Another first cousin has a four-year-old with cerebral palsy and a six-year-old--they're not invited, and they had to sit there in Seattle, where they live, and find a local babysitter here with medical training to babysit their son. They're both doctors, so they're pretty well qualified to take care of him themselves, you know. And then there's us, flying in from Indiana, only see the folks here for a week every year--my two-year-old isn't ready to have a stranger babysit her, especially in a group setting, and so while everyone else went to this wedding, I sat at home with the kids, a strange home with not many toys, no car, the kids upset because they want Daddy, from 3:30 pm until everyone got home after midnight. Superfun.

Maybe I'm alone in this last one, but I also think it's really weird to purposefully not invite children to a WEDDING. You know, a ceremony in which you celebrate the joining of FAMILIES. A bonding experience for a new, united FAMILY. You know who really adds meaning to the concept of "family?" CHILDREN! And you know, maybe you really do think that your dream wedding shouldn't include children. Maybe you don't think that parents would do anything to keep their kids happy and well-behaved in even a very formal setting, would bring small books and toys, would take the kids for long walks outside. Maybe you really think that all your loved ones with children, all these people who made such a special effort to come and witness your joy, would let their kids throw dinner rolls and shriek and spill stuff. If you really think that, then maybe you should be the one to make a special effort to plan a wedding in which this does not happen, to plan a celebration in which your young family members can be welcome and meaningfully included. They'd like the chance to wish you joy, too, you know, especially since they only see you for a couple of days each year.

Anywho.... Boy, I went to some great garage sales on Saturday! I don't know if they just have more awesome stuff in California than they do elsewhere, or if, since garage sales aren't as popular here, they don't get picked over like they do elsewhere, but man, did I score!

A Nightmare Before Christmas shirt for a T-shirt quilt: Lots of rubber stamps, and a white ink pad! How much do I love the sun stamps, and the Christmas tree? I love them a lot.
I don't actually do screen printing, but I did order some stuff from Dharma Trading Company for freezer paper T-shirt fabric stenciling (It will be waiting for me when I get home--whee!!!), and this would work for that? Elsewise, it's just awesome:

I was so excited to spy these little wooden embroidery hoops, because I've recently read about stretching great fabric in them and hanging them on the wall as art. Dinosaurs are possibly going in here:
Matching embroidered pillowcases for pillowcase dresses:
Dinosaur temporary tattoos! The sweeties warmed the cockles of my heart by both insisting that their tattoos be placed on their left ankles, "just like Momma." If only my tattoo was awesome like a dinosaur:
A quilted pillowcase, 20"x26". It has a commercial tag, but it still looks hand-quilted to me. Sweatshop?
And an awesome pair of red Converse sneaks for Willow for next summer, and this great book called From the prairie: A child's memories, which has patterns for cloth dolls and, get this, clothes for the cloth dolls. Righteous.

The girls were invited to the rehearsal dinner (run by Matt's awesome aunt and uncle), and they were, of course, charming and well-behaved:

I, of course, ate and drank everything I could reach--gotta get my money's worth, you know, since I'm not going to the wedding. Did I mention that my children aren't invited?

But enough with the preamble...I know you want to hear the gossip about the wedding. Well, Matt came home disgusting drunk, clearly taking my personal motto to eat and drink all he could reach to heart, and he could tell me unsatisfyingly little about the actual reception, because everything was all, "No, I don't know what the cake tasted like. I missed the cake because I was at the bar." Yuck. But he did tell me, and I later got all the dish, that the groom's sister, the one with the two-year-old and the breastfeeding three-month-old, actually missed her own brother's wedding. Baby Hunter became hysterical every time his Momma tried to leave him, and eventually, after many desperate attempts to leave, because obviously Karin so much wanted to watch her brother get married, he lost all composure and just had a huge nervous breakdown. Karin missed everything. She says, and of course she's correct, that this obviously wouldn't have happened if Hunter had been invited, because not only would she not have had to try to leave him, but she could have nursed him if he became upset and worn him to keep him happy and comfortable. It makes me really sad to think about how unhappy the situation was for her. Me, I'm not unhappy about the situation. I'm just resentful.

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