How to Run a Garage Sale: A Guide for Newbies and Yankees

Rule #1: When in doubt, don't do it. A garage sale is a huge and ridiculous amount of work, an insane amount of work, and you have to get up really early, to boot. If you are a Yankee or a newbie, you may possibly need to borrow a sarcastic Southern momma to help you.

Rule #2: If you're going to do it, do it up right. Do not be one of those garage sales with a couple of tables slung out in the yard with nothing on them but some baby clothes and Christmas ornaments--nobody wants that shit. No, if you're going to do it, then challenge yourself to sell every single blessed thing that you can possibly part with and still remain sound in health and heart. Be ruthless.

We didn't have to worry about this part in Matt's Grandma's house, because the entire reason we were there was to help the family clear out her entire house--I don't quite understand the whole plan, but apparently, Grandma Bangle is illegally immigrating to Mexico. No, seriously.

Rule #3: Sell the Cheesehead.
Rule #4: Figure out if you're having your garage sale to make a lot of money, or to get rid of a lot of stuff. If you want to make a lot of money, price high, haggle, and box your unsold merch up and store it in your attic until the next garage sale--my Aunt Pam does this, because she is like the Arkansas garage sale queen. If you want to get rid of all your stuff, price low, accept any offer, and get the remaining junk off to Goodwill by 4:00 pm.

Grandma's garage sale was in the "get rid of stuff" category, which is my favorite of the two.

Rule #5: Key words for your newspaper article: tools, furniture, computer equipment, video games, craft supplies. Thank god Grandma Bangle is a quilter, and Grandpa Bangle was a woodworker.

Rule #6: Do not sell the awesome stuff. Give it to the redneck momma who's helping you:
This includes sewing supplies, stash fabric, 80s vinyl record albums, old board games, vintage wooden map puzzles with missing pieces, Contact paper, commemorative iron-on patches--you know, awesome stuff.

Rule #7: Have really good signs. Make them really big, on big neon poster board, written with big black letters, and arrange them at every turn leading from the biggest main road in all directions from the house. EVERY turn, even if the only other option is a dead end--people are stupid. Put these signs up the night before the sale.

Rule #8: Price with colored dots color-coded to prices, or masking tape in which you write in amounts. If more than one person is working the sale, price EVERYTHING, or on the day of the sale everybody will eventually figure out that if they want a deal on the coffee table that the one redneck lady said is $30, they should just find the uncle from Germany and ask HIM what the price is--he'll take $5.

Rule #9: Do not price anything at 10 cents or five cents. Quarters and bills only. If the uncle from Germany wants to accept dimes, that's his business.

Rule #10: You'll need at least $50 in ones and $20 in quarters. Don't break open that quarter roll until you have to, though--people will often bring their own change, and you'll possibly never need extras.

Rule #11: If you want to sell big stuff, you gotta take checks. NOBODY is going to go to a garage sale with 150 bucks in cash on hand to buy your china cabinet and the tacky glasses inside.

Rule #12: If you wanna actually get rid of big stuff, you gotta let people pick up later. Slap a SOLD sign on that china cabinet, tell the two ladies to come back between 3:00 and 5:00, and let them spend the rest of the day wrangling a pickup.

Some tricks to get rid of more stuff:

• Find a box or bin you want to get rid of, fill it with like-minded stuff (sewing patterns, cassette tapes, silverware) and put one price for the box.
• Put a bunch of crap you won't be able to sell into a really nice container (an antique toolbox, a cookie jar) and sell the container "with contents."
• Give away stuff to kids.
• If someone buys three coffee mugs, give her the other two.

Rule #13: Take a break to climb a tree:

Rule #14: No last-minute take-backs. If you're unhappy with a price or want to keep something back, either figure that out or make your peace with it BEFORE the sale.

Rule #15: If you're selling a little kid's stuff, get rid of that kid.

Rule #16: The golden hours for a garage sale are Saturday from 7:00 to 1:00 pm. If you sell on Friday, most people will be at work instead, but your stuff will still manage to look picked over by Saturday. If you don't start by 7:00 am on Saturday, you're going to miss a ton of people. If you go past 1:00 or sell on Sunday, too, people will show up already thinking that all you've got left is crap. And they'll be right.

Rule #17: Go ahead and set up all your stuff the night before. Just throw sheets over the tables to hide the stuff until the next morning. Seriously, who is going to steal from a garage sale?

Rule #18: Get rid of your cars--you'll need the parking.

Rule #19: Remove all your jewelry and prescription drugs from the bathroom. If a tearful preschooler or elderly man with a prostrate problem needs to use your bathroom, are you really cold-hearted enough to say no?

Rule #20: Starbucks in the morning and fast food at 11:00 come out of the profits. It's bad form to request a frappuccino or anything super-sized when you send in your order.

Matt and I were halfway planning to have our own garage sale this summer. I think we may put it off until next year.

Home From America's Dairyland

Phew.

A Baker's Dozen of Crayon Rolls

The preparation for Wisconsin is continuing apace, with tasks both usual--packing, cleaning house, trying to get just two more loads of laundry line-dried on this humid but rain-free day, getting a copy of the house key made for the house sitter (it took Matt two tries to get this particular chore done. On his first try, he copied a key that not only is NOT the house key, but that, despite its existence on his own key ring, is a key that Matt has no idea what it unlocks)--and perhaps a little more unusual.

Goodwill pants to crop for me. Matching pajama pants to sew for the girls (from , of course). Presents to make to give to relatives to take back to little cousins not in attendance. An etsy shop in need of an On Vacation notice. And the girls insist that they need new crayon rolls, sewn from some butterfly upholstery fabric that they found in my sample stash.

And of course all this is to be done today, the day that we're leaving. Of course.

On the positive side, a few afternoons spent watching Jericho on Netflix have resulted in the following wholesale order of crayon rolls (here's my crayon roll tutorial, if you're interested):
See? I can't let the babies go without new crayon rolls when all they've seen me do for the past two days is sew new crayon rolls. After all, I wouldn't expect them to go without making huge messes today, for instance, when all I've seen THEM do the past couple of days is make huge messes.

Like that logic? That's why I went to college, to learn how to think so good like that.

Makeup for Momma

On shelves and in bins, in closets and behind cupboard doors, I keep around the house all kinds of random things that the girls can choose to do independently--art supplies of all kinds, obviously, and typical stuff like toys, but also just random stuff. Books and magazines for cutting up as well as books and magazines to read. Encyclopedias as well as picturebooks. Thousand-piece puzzles as well as twenty-piece puzzles. Free access to the garden hoses as well as the sandbox. Just random stuff that I find or buy used or on clearance and squirrel away for whenever somebody's in the mood.

Yesterday, after a several-months period of neglect, the girls re-discovered the huge stash of face paint I bought at 90%-off after Halloween last year--chock-full of lead, I'm sure, but whatever. It was actually very interesting, because the last time the girls were into playing with the face paint, they were obsessed with painting themselves, but this time Willow spent a very long time carefully and elaborately painting Sydney's face--
--and Sydney, and then Willow, spent a VERY long time carefully and elaborately painting my face: I never wear makeup as a rule, but this is a good look for me, don't you think?

Thank Goodness for Record Bowls

A lot of factors combined to make today's craft fair far more successful than May's craft fair--rain was forecast but never came, which always makes people happy; I was in a REALLY good location; there weren't any other major events (such as IU graduation) to compete with the day; and due to some long and hard thinking and some lucky garage sale scores, I've managed to put together a much nicer and more distinctive booth display.

Remember my dressmaker's dummies? They helped a lot:
Miss Dilley is sporting my vinyl record pendant necklaces (put together with a lark's head knot and a fisherman's knot, thank you very much) and my comic book pinback buttons:
Little John has the monograms over book pages pinback buttons----and Scrabble tile pendant necklaces: I haven't made the time in my schedule to go thrifting often enough to add to my T-shirt stash, so I wasn't offering many T-shirt quilts, but I did have the printouts of my digital button monograms displayed in the gaps where I didn't have quilts: The big winner, however, is always record bowls, and I finally got my act together enough to display them in an accessible and attractive manner: Let me tell you, that scavenged shopping cart is worth its weight in gold. It holds as much as a big Rubbermaid bin, but you can push it, not tote it; you can haul extra stuff to your both site there at the bottom; and once you get there, it's also its own display, so it saved a ton of time, too.

But where did it originally come from? No telling...My dear friend Betsy and I gossipped away happily while I took money and she crocheted plastic bags into other plastic bags (she gets a lot of sightseers when she does that craft in public), Matt eavesdropped on our gossip and read the newspaper and took the girls on trips to get honey sticks, and the girls played in the water fountain and small stream just behind my booth (perfect location!), colored with the special markers-- --and played with some AWESOME stuff that my blog friend Anna gave them. Check OUT these masks!

Sydney's channeling Picasso with this one:

I'm in such a good mood after that craft fair that I might get ice cream later AND try my hand at making jam.

Even Lemonade Looks Better in Pink

Will's been really keen on reading and writing this summer, and since she's pretty clearly a whole language reader, I've been, among other reading activities, checking out for the girls every single Dr. Seuss book and CD Reader that the library owns--not just the normal stuff, like Green Eggs and Ham or One Fish, Two Fish but the more obscure stuff, like Scrambled Eggs Super and I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew, etc.

Doing a search on the library search engine, I stumbled across the COOLEST book: . The author read all the Dr. Seuss books, of course, poring through them for references to food, and then she made up recipes for them. There's actually a recipe for Scrambled Eggs Super, for instance, and for Green Eggs and Ham, as well as the Pink Yink Ink Drink and Beautiful Schlopp and Sammy's Six Soda Pops.

Matt's going to have to handle Green Eggs and Ham with the girls (secret ingredients: avocado and green apple jelly), but with a little friend over for a playdate yesterday afternoon, I thought we could handle ourselves this one: Lemonade is actually a pretty easy recipe to do assembly-line style with a bunch of little kids, because each kid can make her own individually. And no, of course I didn't follow the recipe.

Let's see...first I had each kid roll her lemon back and forth to get it nice and juicy:Then I came around and sliced each girl's lemon in half and made her taste it: Then, in turn, they each got a chance to use the lemon reamer twice (two circuits around the table):Ah, the pleasures of learning to wait patiently: And nope, I didn't care if they got seeds in their cups--I think the technical term for that is "half-assed."

After that I just winged it--I got out a shot glass (lord, don't tell the little friend's mom!) and let each kid pour herself about a shot of sugar and then two shots of black cherry juice into her cup, then pour in some nice, cold water from a pitcher, and then I gave them each a straw to stir it with. And Willow's little friend Ella didn't even notice (or declined to mention) that she was basically just drinking sugar-water because she'd spilled all her lemon juice onto the table (twice) and I was too lazy to get her another lemon.

Lemon juice is supposed to be good for wood tables anyway, though, right? Eh.

The coolest COOLEST thing, however? A little more research uncovered yet another cookbook: .

I'm so there.

A Sweet Valley High Craft Fair

One of the huge benefits of being a graduate student/instructor at IU is the library system--not only is the IU library system AMAZING, but my library science degree is pretty much the minimum qualification that one would need to actually be able to understand how to access and search and obtain all the information available in such a huge and complex system.

For instance, the IU libraries will get me anything I want. Anything. And I can want it for any reason. I wanted a copy of for Sydney, for instance. It's the soundtrack to the first film, is lauded as having one of the best film scores ever, features a rare Diana Ross cover, and is out of print. See how much it is on Amazon? Yeah, I interlibrary loaned it from IU, and they picked it up off of a public library in Portland for me. Mine for two weeks.

Take another of my obsession--crafting in literature. I find it highly amusing to read an author's non-professional take on crafting whenever it's included in a novel for some random reason. So when Margo Rising reviewed Sweet Valley High's Boy Trouble, including a secondary plot involving Jessica and a craft fair, I WANTED it. So I interlibrary loaned it from IU--they only had to go to New Albany, Indiana, to get this one for me.

Okay, there are so many ridiculous things about this book. Check out Margo Rising for the complete plot recap--here, all you need to know is that DeeDee is Elizabeth's friend and she's an "artist". When we join her and Elizabeth and all the other juniors at the lunch table--Todd Wilkins, Winston Eggbert (swoon!), Enid Rollins, and Bill Chase, in case you were curious--she's showing off her hand-painted shirt (barf!) and tell Elizabeth that she has a big craft fair this Saturday.

In the parking lot of the mall.

Vendors from all over the state are going to come hawk their wares in a mall parking lot. Um, really? I guess in the early 1990s...

And speaking of, how did a popular teenager ever get the idea to sell at a craft fair in the early 1990s? It was all ducks in bonnets and dried flower wreaths back then. Not that DeeDee's crap is much different: A black and turquoise seascape design, my friends--are you picturing it? Now picture it in a size large, because that's the way you LIKE it, and picture it on your body. Yep, it's the early 1990s, all right.

And an alligator-skin wallet? Is that supposed to tell me she's rich? Thanks for handing the planet down to me, lady.

But look, y'all! Craft fairs give you positive self-esteem!Now I know that a lot of crafters consider a lot of their work art (I admit I'm one of them, with some of my stuff), but I have yet to meet an "artist" who would sell at a craft fair. The one time I suggested to one of my artist friends that he could make a lot of money selling his ceramics at a craft fair, he made it VERY clear to me that he would not be caught dead whoring his work out at some low-rent craft fair. So it makes me laugh that DeeDee is written as seeing craft fair vending as the start of an art career.

Of course it's inevitable that Jessica gets involved in some hijinks--she booth-sits for DeeDee and gets caught up in some kind of mistaken-identity fiasco in which she decides to paint her own T-shirts to sell to a boutique owner who comes by, and of course they're fugly, but the boutique owner doesn't even rat her out when he gets ahold of the real DeeDee to offer her the real deal (Wholesale, DeeDee! Never consign!). The real plot, however, is some laughable business in which Patty and her boyfriend break up over a misunderstanding that neither will talk to the other about--don't worry about it, because it's really boring.

In other news, on the same garage sale day in which I found my dressmaker's dummies, Matt had a world-class score of his own:
It's a few of the issues from the Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe, the one with continuous covers. Matt's especially excited because the big geeky thing is that Mr. Fantastic's stretchy arm can be seen, I guess, stretching through the whole thing. See it over the big green face?

Yeah. I'm not sure how many more issues Matt needs to get the whole scene, but there's always another garage sale, right?

P.S. Ever figure out why I would use a Dremel to cut a vinyl record album? Check out my tutorial for making vinyl record album pendants over at Crafting a Green World.

The Day Camp and the Dremel

The monkeys have been spending their mornings at a little daycamp over at the YMCA this week--a whole morning in the woods with a few very little kids, poking around and singing songs. It's especially fun because it's run by local singer-songwriter Miss Bobbie--Willow told me, "Miss Bobbie plays GUITAR while she sings with us. Have you ever thought about doing that?"

It's awesome and exhausting, just what a daycamp should be. Last night at dinner Willow actually crawled underneath the table and then fell asleep:
That's the picture of a kid who had fun at her morning day camp.

While the girlies have been frolicking away from me, I've been indulging in creating some things with pretty much the only tool that I can't use around them: the Dremel.

Ooh, the Dremel. If you don't have yourself a hand-held multi-purpose rotary tool, I highly recommend getting one. You can drill with this baby, through plastic and entire books. You can cut with it, through wood or glass or tile. You can grind solder or cut glass or ceramics with it.

You really want to do all those things, right? I know!

Anyway, I've been trying to think up some other things to do with my vinyl record stash (Stash-busting is always an approved activity, but I'm also hoping to have an exceptionally successful day at the farmer's market craft fair this Saturday--gotta pay for day camp, don't you know). Two guesses to figure out why I would do this to a vinyl record album:
Clue: I've also checked out several knot-tying books from the library.

Dummies

Guess who's come to live at our house:
Dressmaker's dummies!

I've been thinking for a while about constructing a DIY dressmaker's dummy, but never got around to it. But at our last garage sale of the morning yesterday, at the house of a fellow Montessori mom, there these babies were!

I leapt out of the car, dragging Willow along with me and leaving Matt to get Syd, ran across the road, and put my hands on both dummies to claim them. The lady said that she had bought them off of ebay to use for photographing clothes that she, herself, wanted to sell on ebay, but that (familiar story) she'd never gotten around to it and now she was moving.

We paid $35 for the two of these (after a little haggling) and I am pleased as punch. The lady mannequin will take a few hours of work to get padded to my correct size, and the child's mannequin is still quite a bit big even for Willow, but for now I can use the both of them as displays in my craft fair booth.

In between craft fairs, I can't rule out the possibility that I will dress them up in strange outfits and pose them in my windows. Only natural, right?

The Wonderlab, and Increasing Our Vocabulary on the Bus

Two-hour parking and Montessori preschool take us away from the glory of an entire day spent at the Wonderlab in the winter, but in the summer, on a rainy day in which the only other option for two little girls who live in a house chock-full of books and games, art supplies and building blocks, and who have an entire basement playroom full of toys, is to tear said house apart and fight like a cartoon cat and mouse, an entire day at the Wonderlab is a nice bus ride and short walk away:

Not to mention, we always have the BEST time on the bus. This time, on the way back (on the 1 South), there was this awesome fighting couple--the woman was mad because the bus driver wouldn't let her bring her soda on the bus (no open containers), and the thought of the 75 cents that she had wasted was enough to remind her that she had given her partner her entire paycheck after they'd visited the check-cashing place, and he had never repaid her. The partner replied that he'd bought groceries using that money, and Arby's, and beer when Brad came over, and rented the movie, and that thus he'd basically spent all her money on her. The woman insisted that if he didn't give her back the rest of her money, she was going to call 911 right there from the bus. The partner replied, EXCELLENTLY, "Here's your money, woman!" and took a wad of bills out of his pocket and threw them on the floor of the bus! Then the woman said that she was NOT going over to his mother's for dinner that night.

Mind you, I missed a little of the fight, because I had to hold the girls' attention rapt with a story about two little baby squirrels (named Willow Squirrel and Sydney Squirrel) who lived in the forest with their mommy who was a teacher and their daddy who drew pictures. As you can imagine, the f-bombs were falling hard and fast and my girls, they already know how to swear in appropriate context--they don't really need to learn all the creative appendages that one can add to swear-words.

Blooming

We have been...

reading Dr. Seuss books (even the esoteric stuff, over and over) and swimming at the public pool (no stolen toys yet, but one splash bully got the smack-down from Momma), and making homemade play dough (scorched play dough? I don't recommend it), and having playdates, and lucking out-- --at the park, and playing chess and Scrabble long and often (modified, of course, although Will is getting pretty handy at setting up a chess board), and spending many quality hours at the Wonderlab and the public library, and getting our faces dirty----in the garden, and watching documentaries (TriviaTown? AWESOME!), and planning our trip to Wisconsin later this month, and cooking up loads of pretend meals (and a couple of real ones, unwillingly)...

In all my free time (ahem), I've been working, however, on Ruby's Bloomers, again from . This pattern, unlike Lucy's Kimono, is easy-peasy--one pattern piece, sewn in a few different places, with elastic thread (squee!) and an elastic casing. After the first one, I didn't even have to read the instructions over again.

I've been modifying the pattern to work with some silks that Willow's been eyeing, and T-shirt material-- --(I have an unhealthy love for scavenging old tie-dyed T-shirts and then sewing with them. Wouldn't it be great to live in a culture in which the most common hand-altered fabric was someting like batik? But America=tie-dye), but I've also been making a few from the quilter's cotton in my supply.

It's technically not stash, since this is the fabric that I use for the rainbow patchwork art rolls that I still make, but who can turn down a little girl's request for pink bubble-print bloomers?

Surely not I.

From Mirror-Writing to Rainbow-Writing

Oh, the trials of a left-handed child. Unless your parents/teachers are left-handed, too, every darn thing is modeled with the wrong hand. Cutting is harder, writing is harder (lower-case a, how does a leftie ever write you?), and I do not even know what I'm going to do when Willow is ready to learn to knit.

Mirror-writing is still developmentally appropriate at this age, but it's also developmentally appropriate to be moving past it by now, and since Willow is beginning to be able to read a little, and clearly knows which way words move across the page, I've been just pointing it out to her when she writes backwards, and very occasionally, usually when she's written a word that she's memorized or when she's written a word that needs to be accessible to other people (cards to grandmas, name on her Summer Reading Program chart), asking her to correct something. Since Willow writes so much, what I don't want is for her to internalize mirror-writing--that would be harder to unlearn (some people theorize that Leonardo Da Vinci engaged in mirror-writing secretly because he was a (gasp!) leftie).

Montessori has a lot of moveable letters and moveable words, and one thing that I think Will's been doing when she copies is to put the word on her right side (of course!), and then mirror-writing is very natural--it's much more difficult to figure out how to copy a word going the correct way when the word is on one side of you or another. We're going to have that problem here, too, perhaps, because one of our projects this coming week is to write some sight words to label everything in the house. But one thing that's been working so far, especially with unfamiliar words, is to have Willow put the word above her paper--it's easier to line it up and follow the correct order when she's copying the word directly below its model.

Another thing that works for words that are more familiar to her, and that thus she's a little more used to mirror-writing, perhaps, is to make a game in which I write the word with each letter a different color, and then challenge her to copy it. Hence Willow's favorite word of all time:
Not bad. And besides, everyone knows that N is the bugbear of the alphabet.

Lucy and I Didn't Always Agree

A couple of weeks ago I participated in a half-hour usability study for the new IUB home page. Usability studies are right up my alley--five different problems to solve using the web site (finding where the list of part-time jobs for students is located, finding a map with Woodburn Hall located on it, finding the requirements for study abroad, etc.), and My. Opinion. Matters.

Hells, yeah.

In exchange, UITS gave me a $20 Barnes & Noble gift card. I know, right? I carried it around in my pocket for days until we all had a chance to get to Barnes & Noble, and I pored over every single craft book in the store until I finally settled on .
and the Skull-a-Day book were both close contenders, and
(inspirator of the rainbow patchwork marker roll) might have won altogether if there'd been any in stock.

There are some VERY cool things in Weekend Sewing. I have laid out on my cutting mat right now the pattern for Ruby's Bloomers, but the absolute first thing I needed to sew was a baby gift for a dear friend of mine who's expecting her second daughter next month. I already have permission to hold that baby anytime I want to, and if I'm going to enjoy dressing her up and loving on her and taking pictures of her little feet and then dressing her up in a new outfit, she needs some teeny little clothes to be dressed up in.

I sort-of sewed to a pattern once before, but not really. And wow--it's harder than I thought. I chose the Lucy's Kimono pattern as the one that I would most look forward to dressing up my little baby in, and I found a dumpster-dived pale green striped button-down blouse in my stash. I got everything cut out just the way Heather Ross wanted me to, and all nicely pinned and everything-- --and then... I don't know, I kept not being able to figure out things. In step 3, for instance, the instructions asked me to attach the kimono fronts to the kimono back at the shoulder seams, with the WRONG sides together. I stared and stared and stared at that for a while, but I finally decided that it just couldn't be correct--wouldn't that put the seam on the outside of the kimono? The hand-drawn illustration of step 3 (it's picky, but hand-drawn illustrations/patterns in craft tutorials are a big pet peeve of mine) seems to have the right sides together, so that's what I went ahead and did. Kind of made my mind melt for a little while.

My biggest headache, however, came from the darn sleeves. I think this might just be my unfamiliarity with pattern sewing, but there wasn't any indication of how the sleeves might be oriented to attach to the body. Each sleeve was a sort of trapezoid, with two long, straight sides and two short angled sides--what end gets sewn to the body?

I made my most educated guess, sewed it up, and felt comfortable enough with my choice to finish the kimono. I dont' know, though...when I looked at it, it just seemed odd. Funny how my sleeves are long and skinny, and the sleeves in the book are short and wide...Crap.

After I ripped out the stupid sleeves, I didn't have enough material left from the button-down shirt to make them anew, so I cut them instead from the quilting cotton I was using as the bias fabric: Even more freakin' adorable than the first try, if I do say so myself.

So the end result would maybe be: Book Errors=2 (asking for the wrong sides together when it should be the right sides, not including the location for the side ties on the pattern piece). Human Errors=1 (sewing the sleeves on sideways. Unless sleeves are supposed to have their edges marked, and then that would be another Book Error). Anyway, only the sleeve issue was dire--everything else, even if I didn't understand it at first, I was able to figure out. And it was well worth the trouble.

It seemed like it would be more trouble than it was worth for my mom friend to have to find a matching bottom for the kimono top, so I sewed the baby a pair of tiny little pants from the sleeves of the button-down blouse: I can't decide if I love them, or if they just look like two sleeves stuck together:

And then, and THEN, I found in the girls' blankie stash a little baby blanket I'd scavenged years ago, with an awesome circus print on it in green, to serve as the wrapping for the outfit.

And once that baby is born, I get to dress her in that outfit and wrap her in that blanket and hold her anytime I want. I have a promise.

Wildflowers, Interpreted

Due to a little "incident" yesterday evening (Cake aptly named this incident "When Ice Cream Turns into Tragedy"), the girls are enjoying themselves a Land Before Time glut this morning, leaving me with, ahhh----free time on my hands.

So Matt's been teaching nights for a change, so the girls and I hiked over to the Chocolate Moose for some ice cream--The Chocolate Moose, did you know, is immortalized in my favorite John Cougar Mellancamp music video:

After getting ice cream we usually walk over to Third Street Park to enjoy it. Last night there was a play practice going on in the outdoor theater, so the girls and I sat on some steps nearby to watch it. Next to the steps are a wall and a hill below it and Willow, who's been fascinated lately with jumping off of fairly high surfaces, was having me play Humpty Dumpty with her--I have to recite the poem as she acts it out. It was unfortunately quite distracting to the play people--in the distance they could apparently clearly observe a child jumping off of a high wall and lying crumpled on the ground below it for several seconds, before hopping up and doing the whole thing over and over again. There were a lot of blown lines, etc.

Sydney has the unhappy distinction of being the "little" sister, alas, and at one point I looked up just in time to see her not quite so much jump as lurch off of the same high wall, full of happy anticipation--yeah, when she lay crumpled on the ground below it, it sure as hell wasn't so I could finish the last two lines of the poem.

Anyway, the kiddo's ankle isn't sprained, I don't think, but it's sore, deserving of lots of foot baths and TV time and just generally getting carried around everywhere--not such a bad deal, when you think about it.

In other news, one of our favorite activities so far this summer is to do a wildflower walk--we walk around the neighborhood, picking wildflowers off of lawns (if they look unintended) and medians and ditches, and when we get home we try ineptly to identify them from our numerous library wildflower books and then we draw pictures of them.

I don't know what it is about wildflowers that seems to call for watercolors, but it's certainly our favorite medium:

That's me doing my darndest to paint a dandelion and a clover and a wild rose. Willow's daisy and clover are much more inspired:

I love the way she does the leaves on the daisy. It's not terribly accurate, but it's totally the way they SHOULD look, you know?