Friday

Tonight we're going to see Edmund Dawe and Wendy Neilsen in concert. It should be nice, although I'm not all that crazy about opera music - I should listen to it more, I'd probably like it.

Time goes so fast. I can't believe my birthday was almost a month ago, and just a little more than a month to go to Xmas.

We saw "Cabaret" on Wednesday night - a good production, with a good cast. A busy week extra-curricularly for us - out two nights! We don't really get out much anymore.

Was today "buy nothing" day? I think it might have been. I don't think we bought anything except for pizza - although we did buy the performance tickets.

That's it for now - sorry the blog is a kind of dull, I'll try to spice it up presently.

Tuesday

So, the other things - I used to read a lot when I was younger - I always took a book to bed with me. Cynthia, my sister, got me turned onto Hardy Boys when I was about 10 and I think I read pretty constantly from then until sometime on my twenties. I'm not sure why, but I find it really hard to get engaged in a book nowadays. I do read occasionally - probably about four or five books a year. But I really feel like I should do more. When I get engaged, it's really great, and I want to keep doing it - and there are so many wonderful things you can get from reading books.

I've just realized a sort of running theme with the reading and the writing and also even my football watching this fall - for the first time I've found that I'm not really feeling all that engaged in the games either. They seem to go by so fast - and there so seldom seems to be real drama in them.

Finally, I wrote below (I thought it was above, but then I looked at the blog) that I want to become more socially aware/active. I'm not sure where this is going to lead, or exactly what form it's going to take. We spent a few weeks this fall trying to see if we could "buy nothing" except for food and absolute necessities. I spent about 25 cents in two weeks (I bought a gum at the Save Easy). But it got kind of boring after a while, so we stopped. But there are better ways to live for our environment/for other people/for our own family's health. It's hard not to be so caught up in the pace of day to day life that we don't consider these things. I'll try to make that one of the functions of the blog - to explore how to move forward to make things better.

That's it for now - we're off to see a play (Cabaret) which should be fun. I'll tell you how it was tomorrow.

Oh yes - the strange typos in yesterday's blog where caused by typing it in Word then pasting it in - I'll try to avoid doing that.

A Little More Than a Week Later . . .

I was right - I won't be posting as much. I think of it fairly frequently, but often get sidetracked. I think it's one of my biggest strengths and weaknesses - divergent thinking. It allows me to sometimes see things in a very creative/original way, but it also sometime makes me completely lose track of what I'm doing or where I think I'm going.

I wanted to comment a little bit on my "5 priorities" to borrow from Stephen Harper (I'm not a fan really, I just like that particular idea) and briefly update on us. Sorry, still no photos - I don't want to spend a lot of time on this tonight - but I'll try for soon!!

My "priorities" are as above, plus reading and trying to think/be more socially aware/active.

Gym has to do with gaining some weight and getting older (both of which I think I can reverse slightly) as well as feeling much better when I do it and realizing I need to take care of my health (I maybe should have included flossing - I'm almost perfect at that!!). One of my best friends died this past summer (Philip Iverson) - and it's very sad, and sobering. I'm still trying to process it I think. But I’m having trouble going – it’s hard to fit it into the day, and I have many busy evenings (with play stuff) so I try not to fill them up with other things. But I’ll keep trying.

Guitar I’m enjoying a fair bit. This is the third time I’ve tried to learn. I think I need to start a band or something – I find practicing very hard. If I was going to have to perform in front of someone – or if I had a partner. I’m seriously thinking about it.

Blogging I think I'm doing okay at - one a week. Partly what I like about it is I enjoy creative writing, but I find that when I do it lately I'm trapped by form. I think it's from having done so much theatre directing and having come to see so much of art through the director's lense - which has a lot to do with form/structure. It used to be that when I wrote a fictional story, I'd get carried away with the story and it would just sort of flow out of my head. Now I find myself thinking about plot and character and exposition and all sorts of other things that kind of bind my brain. I wrote some poetry last year which was fun, but it almost seems too easy. I enjoyed writing the first few, then I felt like I could keep spewing them out with no end in sight – and less and less connection to anything really inside me. Maybe I just needed to get those first few out then the pressure was gone. Maybe I’ll post one someday.

Okay, I’ve got to go now – I’m going to go have a drink of Whiskey that Peter bought me for my birthday. I’ll finish the other points next time. We’re all well, if a little tired as usual – Peter is really really cute and smart and developing like crazy.

More soon!!
Ron

Stay at home-ish Dad attempts blog

Hello,

I've decided, since I turned 41 (October 30), that I'm going to try to do several (not all!) of the things that I've been thinking I ought to get at before - well, just before I put them off some more I guess. I'm sure there's a more profound reason . . .

Those things include going to the gym, playing guitar, and working on our blog. As Patricia is now excedingly busy, I'm going to try to take over for a while. I'm not strictly speaking really a "stay at home Dad" - I work three days a week for now, and I'll be going back full-time (running an arts festival) in December I think (if our funding all works out, which I think it will!). But I am very house connected - though not in the same way as Patricia.

It's funny, because we didn't intend it, and I certainly never thought it was in my nature, but we're fairly gender traditional when it comes to our domestic interests. I think (hope) that I do my fair share of work - it's just that my share tends to include mowing the lawn, maintaining the car, fixing the occasionally leaky basement - and other stuff like that. While you can see what Patricia's is from looking at the blog.

Another big difference is I probably won't write as much or as regularly as she did - and I'm not a very good speller (and she is!)

Other than that - no definite plans what I'll do with my time - except that I will get some photos up soon when I learn how to do it!

That's it - wish me luck!
Ron

Starfish

It's late September. Summer is gone. I'm wearing boots again. My fieldwork in Marrakesh crept up, and then flew by. Peter is talking and running and amazing us everyday with his loving funniness. Is that a word? I don't know. He's definitely that, though. I've already laid this blog to rest, but wanted to leave this final word that we're all well, working hard, and living in the real world.

I guess I've missed my blog birthday

In the meantime,

the big article (on henna work in Morocco) has been completely tied up, revised, new title, new abstract, illustrations rearranged, references checked, and everything received by editor;

the second big article is about half done in terms of word count, and hopefully also in terms of time spent;

my research trip in August has been arranged;

Peter has learned to count to 13, not coincidentally the number of stairs going up to the second floor, and also not generally not in order ("Mun, two, thee, five, eight, eight, ten, rivern, thirteen..."); and

my sabbatical is over.

Sigh.

porch with red door

porch with red door
Originally uploaded by run lily.

In the end, the robin's egg blue door was an abject failure. By "in the end," I mean "after two coats". Tom (also known as "the lovely painter") suggested red, and so we went with a nice madder color. I love it. The doors have six coats, in the end, though the screen door (to which he added a bottom panel and took out the scrolled corner brackets) has just 4 so far.

almost done

almost done
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Still to do (lovely painter, not me, thank heavens): Second coat of main color. Replace lattice under porch. Take brick off roof.
Still to do (me): This year, just wait for plants to grow. I planted old roses in the back bed (on the right) though they're not really visible here. This year, I planted two climbers against the porch, and put the wires up yesterday. The urn has lavender, mints, and sweetpeas, and that's lady's mantle, artemisia, more lavender, some irises, pansies and violas in the front bed. There are also two roses waiting to be planted, and I'm thinking of putting them in front, on the far right (not visible here) next to the neighbor's driveway.

my favorite corner (and it's not the one on the right)

my favorite corner (and it's not the one on the right)
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I just included the view of the dining room to make this photo pretty for Jes. It's actually all about the pantry. This is the pantry I mentioned a few days ago, made last year by our lovely painter-carpenter Tom, when I was 8 months pregnant and we had just moved into the house. The kitchen, for all its vanilla icecream glory, has no room for food. It has room for a bread machine, loaf pans and cookie sheets, pots and frying pans, a bread basket and a lettuce dryer (try it and you'll be converted), cereal boxes, tea and coffee (I'm going around the kitchen from shelf to shelf in my mind -- bear with me), a Moroccan tajine, olive and vegetable oils and salt and a salad dressing cruet, breast pump accessories, dishes for 12 and cutlery for fewer than that (a problem, I know), potatoes, cling wrap, aluminum foil, freezer bags, spices, various gadgets and a rolling pin, a cooking scale, Pyrex measuring cups in 1, 2, and 4 cup sizes, kitchen linens, a thermos, and a Tupperware bin full of round plastic food storage containers (different volumes but all the same diameter). No room for food. The kitchen does have a short hallway leading to the dining room, though, and at the end of this hallway, there was a broom closet the wideth of the hallway and the depth of a vacuum cleaner. We fitted it with shelves salvaged from a bookcase that was removed from another room, and it is now a pantry. Top shelf for alcohol and pickles, then savory canned things (beans, canned tomatoes, fish, pastas and legumes), then baking supplies and sweet things (can you see my pride and joy, vanilla sweetened pureed chestnuts?), then bags of flour, rice, and oatmeal. No pretty shelf liner, no gingham edging, and there's always some flour on the bottom shelf, but it's just the right size.

A thing I love today: vanilla sweetened chestnuts. I may love these even more than the pantry. Gratuitous recipe for chestnut mousse that will get you invited to parties. Don't tell anyone that it takes half an hour to make and is easier than Rice Krispie squares. Whip 500 ml of cream, fold in entire can of sweetened chestnut puree, pipe into Oreo crumb tart bases done in about 45 small muffin liners (1 cup of Oreo crumbs + 1/4 cup of melted butter, mix well). I place the liners on a tray and press the crumb base into them, no muffin tin needed. About a tablespoon per tart will do, pressed into a flat disk with a low side. Let them cool if you can before piping in the mousse, and then let the completed tarts sit somewhere cool for about an hour. I don't have this much room in the fridge, so I've put trays in the freezer and in the back porch (December). The recipe is a variation on something I half-remember from a French cookbook I had 18 years ago; in the original recipe, the mousse was served in champagne cups and garnished with chocolate curls. I do that sometimes, but honestly, I don't have that many (ok, any) champagne glasses. It's Thursday. See what everyone else loves today.

About the new banner (or, why am I up at this hour?)

Parenthetical question first: Because Peter's up. But he's back in bed, and I hope that he will be there for a few more hours. And now a few words just for Robin, who noticed my new banner. The image is low tide this past Saturday at Cumberland Basin off Rockport, about twenty minutes' drive from here. We call this stretch Red Stone Beach (the actual beach is just past this picture); everyone else (hi Alison!) calls it The Steel Bridge (also just past this picture). The entire beach is small, smooth, flattish red stones that heat up so well on a warm day that they must be the inspiration for hot stone massage therapy. It's perfect for dreaming on. Some people fish there. This picture is taken from the main road because the beach access was blocked by a very large mud puddle. What you see, though, is more mud and the newly-greening marsh, and a few rocks further out out. The points of land are New Brunswick on the left and Nova Scotia on the right. Ron and I thought we discovered this place a few years ago, but it turns out that other people around here do know about it, they just don't talk about it everyday the way we did when we first found it.

House projects, writing projects, and a cold

newly painted west side
Originally uploaded by run lily.

That's my excuse, though in reverse order. I did sit down to write something in this dear little space a few days ago, but all I could get down was "I'm sick. Peter is sick." So I got up and made some tea and went for a stroll in the garden. We're both doing better now.

The lovely painters are getting further and further on with the house. It's going slowly but well, and everyone has noticed more traffic on the street as our neighbors come by to see the progress. Our backyard neighbors called over the other night to say how much they loved the colors, and a few couples from down the street have stopped me on the sidewalk with compliments. Tom (who made my pantry closet last winter and created space in this little kitchen for someone who cooks) jokingly calls my sand-and-sea color scheme "orange with yellow trim," but I can tell that he's very proud of it so far.

Today's big news, aside from getting a first coat on the west side of the house, was that final proofs of an article I wrote a few months ago arrived. They look good. The article (tourism and gender in Morocco, with an emphasis on tourist sector henna artisans) will appear in volume of a scholarly encyclopedia that's due out in July. My writing projects for the next two months: revise second article (social organization of henna workers, due mid-June), write film review (ageing and work), and finish the henna ethnography article. Plus all the other stuff that will need to be done so that I can come back at the end of August and teach the following week. Piece of cake!

Things are moving along here. Peter and I went to a speech-development program for little ones his age this morning. It wasn't really a success. The program involved sitting in a circle and doing action rhymes for an hour. The other kids did that, anyway. I spent a lot of time bringing him back from the hall, and just when he seemed to be settled and enjoying a quiet story, the animator said it was time for another jumping-around song. I thought that would be a good time to go.

Our lovely painter is painting outside, and we hope to have the back of the house done (!!) by the end of the weekend. It's going slowly. There were 1" holes in the clapboard where insulation was blown in 20 years ago. There were some missing shakes, some cracked clapboard, some rotted trim, and some gaps that a small cat could crawl through. But Tom is out priming right now, and there will be a big change in the next day. We're off to St Martins for a very short break tomorrow, and then our trusty electrician will be in on Monday to install some lighting over the kitchen sink, and hopefully advise on a few other projects. A light in the kitchen hall would be nice, but there are no nearby outlets to run a wire from, and the walls (every one of them) are solid plaster. What to do, what to do, what to do. In the meantime, I've moved these ferns from the intensive care unit (the windowsill behind the kitchen sink) to a new home in the upstairs hall. The intensive care bed is now occupied by my poor burro's tail, which got either too much sun or too much cold a few weeks ago in the front porch.

No headline needed!

A new article, a new (to us) picture, and an old house

I've been working at the kitchen table today on the ethnography article (henna practices in Morocco) that I have been wanting to do for the past two months, and which had been put off in favor of the economic anth article (done, but revisions pending) and the first book review. What a calm, beautiful place to work. I always seem to pick one place to work on each project, and this place will be where I pound out my first draft this week.

Can you see a new painting on the wall opposite the table? That was in the bottom of a box lot (with some kitchen linens too, and maybe the toy trunk?) that Ron got at an auction last summer. He wouldn't have paid more than $12 for the box, and this was a bonus hidden away inside. I finally got a frame for it ($14) and now it's up.

And this is what's going on outside.

I heart Agnes

Final Finchtasy
Originally uploaded by Agnes McArbre.

Isn't this the very, very, very best little stuffed finch ever? He would love a home in our playroom.

3 little birds arrived at my house yesterday

3 little birds arrived at my house today
Originally uploaded by run lily.

These came from Claire at needle book. Peter noticed them while he was nursing, and pointed at them (mouth full) until I took him over to look closer. He loves them. So do I.

Exterior color scheme

Exterior color scheme
Originally uploaded by run lily.

We've taken the siding off the back of the house, and will be ready to start priming tomorrow. The inspiration was this picture of a South Carolina beach that ended up in my design book a year ago. The chips for the exterior design are on the right side of the middle picture: tan for the main color, pale cream for the trim, and bright robin's egg blue for the doors (what else?). The green chips are the roof, which we're not painting of course, but I wanted to get those colors in there. (The chips on the left are the front porch, which I did a few weeks ago.) And the last picture is our before shot. Cross your fingers that we get good weather!

little boy room, part 3

little boy room, part 3
Originally uploaded by run lily.

During little boy's nap yesterday, I got the new border finished. I'm waiting for a package from Claire that's due to arrive any day now, and I'm plotting to do some sort of large pillow for the rocker. I love black and white gingham, but I don't think this room can take any more squares. Maybe an applique of some sort. I really love the lyric simplicity of Hillary Lang's "I speak for the trees" quilt, and that has me thinking of some sort of bird on a tree branch in small reproduction prints like these at Quilt Blocks 101. I'm thinking several green prints in the background, a branchy-looking tan branch, a bit of sky, and a nice fat robin (brown back, red breast). I may have to become a quilter before this room is done.

3 rush-seat chairs, a teacup, and Mother's Day

3 rush-seat chairs and a teacup
Originally uploaded by run lily.

The latest issue of Brain, Child magazine questions the notion that there is a sisterhood of mothers. There are so many different opinions and experiences about conception, pregnancy, childbirth, breastfeeding, sleep arrangements and discipline that I often think that parenting should join religion and politics as one of the topics that North Americans prefer not to discuss. After a few discussions in which I've been bashed over the head for supporting midwifery, extended breastfeeding, co-sleeping, and other apparently unwise practices, I've become adept at changing the topic. But there is a common experience, though; pregnancy, childbirth, and parenting, however we experience them, are life changes. Whatever our experience, it's different from what our life was before. And it's hard sometimes.

Which brings me to the teacup. We went to Linden House's antique sale on Saturday. It's a twice-yearly consignment sale of beautiful things, mostly furniture but also some nice china. I was looking for kitchen chairs, and picked out 3 beautiful rush-seat pieces. They weren't terribly big, but still they wouldn't all fit into the trunk, so Ron packed them into the trunk and back seat and made a quick trip home while Peter and I waited. It seemed like a normal morning for me: we looked around a little more, he talked to all the ladies coming and going, and I peeked over at the china when I could. When Ron got back, one of the shopowners came out with a wrapped teacup that she held out to me. "For Mother's Day next week," she said, "We know what it's like." There is a sisterhood after all.

7 Milner Ave Index

Words (scholarly) written today: 398

Words (nonscholarly) written today: fewer than 100

Meals with fish: 2

Beaches visited: 1

Hermit crabs observed: 4

Hermit crabs grabbed by small boy: 1

Photographs taken today: none

Photographs I wish I had taken today: 2

Cameras taken to the beach after scholarly writing: 0

quilt repair and how to live

quilt repair and how to live
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I spent another evening yesterday mending tattered quilt blocks. This time, the new ones are the pale green with pink paisley blocks on the lower right. Selecting fabric, cutting, pressing, and sewing in place is taking an hour per block, and I catch myself thinking that I should do what they say about old quilts: put it on a bed in the shadier spare room, keep the door closed so that the cat stays off it, and cover the quilt with a white sheet when we're not looking at it. This is how treasures are passed down for generations. I do value this one, even though it isn't one of the fancy pieced quilts that my grandmother made for each of her daughters, and now makes for the new greatgrandbabies. Some of the blocks must have been old sheets, others remind me of the "dust-bowl farmer aprons" (I wish I could remember who used this phrase!) my other grandmother always wore, tiny floral prints in dark primary colors. And this simple one-patch seems to be a different quilt in every room it's been in. When I first took it from mum to live with me in Montreal, I was in a student coop and painted my room to match the deep blue blocks. For a while, I turned it over, to show just the hand quilting. These days, it's in Peter's room, I notice the robin's egg blue, mustard yellows, and tomato reds that reappear in almost every room of our old house.

I don't want this to be a museum piece. I don't want my life to be that kind of life, one filled with precious things that can't be used or, even worse, with a frenzied consumption of objects that I worry aren't stylish enough even before I buy them and take them home. As I mend, I notice discreet little repairs, other blocks that were replaced by some other sewer, and I wonder what she thought about mending.

bye-bye

bye-bye
Originally uploaded by run lily.

This is an outside view of the kitchen window above the sink. I was upstairs writing a few minutes ago when I heard a banging noise and went outside to find this. Our asbestos siding has good clapboard underneath, and it will all come off next week. Yeay! Stay tuned for more details.

triaged repairs

triaged repairs
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Peter was more sleepy last night than I was and I had a chance to do some mending while Ron and I watched Texas Ranch (my choice) and the Stanley Cup (his). I began with the worst of the tattered blocks, and after finishing it, did the next worst, and the next. Although this is a random pattern made with a wide variety of scraps, I'm trying to keep to the original vision by using the same fabric to replace worn blocks done in a single fabric. The pieces seeem to be a mix from 1940s-1960s. It's a family piece made by my grandmother or greatgrandmother. (Mum said on the phone this morning that she doesn't remember which quilt it is. She has many beautiful quilts in her life!)

It sounds fairly obvious, but when I sat down to do it with my seven different choices, it was hard to restrain myself. I think it's the high road, though.

I hope the repairs aren't obvious. The new blocks are the yellow and pink large-scale florals on the left side.

Things we do at our house

We cook sometimes.
And we read the paper.

the next thing to be painted at our place

the next thing to be painted at our place
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I'll let you guess what it is.

Our nature corner

buoy
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I've been inspired (ok, envious) lately of beautiful nature tables like this one of Green Wellie's and this one of mama k's and this one of SouleMama's. Nature tables are part of the Waldorf/Steiner school philosophy of strengthening children's sense of connection with the earth and with others through participating in the changing seasons and festivals. I love this concept, and have been trying it in small ways in our house. We did a St Patrick's Day table upstairs; it was quickly dismantled by little baby who turned one that very day. Since then, I've encouraged him to bring pieces of the outside in. He brought in a piece of cement the other day, and Ron gave it a place on honor on the playroom bookcase. We are all part of nature, even cement rocks. This buoy, from our old home on Dorchester Cape (just outside the frame of this painting, in fact), hangs in our back porch. It's my nature corner these days.

New projects and old projects

peter's new coat visits the garden
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I was thinking a lot about getting things done on Friday. I have a few few book/film reviews that need to get done, reviewers' comments on my economic anthropology article to address (they were positive, but that still means more work), and another ethnography article to do before heading off to Morocco in a few months. I worked fairly steadily all day, and felt good about my productivity, but didn't really finish anything. So I got out Peter's dear felted coat and finished it in half an hour. That's why I love these little crafty things. Boom, boom, boom, it's done and there's something to show for my effort. (When I get in these moods I wish I had gone into civil engineering instead of anthropology. A book can't really compare with a bridge.) Today is my day home with little guy, and I have lots of projects to do, all short and fun. We've already planted 3 cowslips and some lemon thyme (thymus aurelius) in the back garden (the mulchy early spring bare branched paradise in this picture), and put a pot of stock on to simmer. The fabrics to patch Peter's quilt are washed and about to get dried. I'd like to get a few of those tattered blocks mended. Mending seems so old-fashioned these days, and I love the idea of fixing something that was so loved that it was worn right through. The Velveteen Rabbit was one of my favorite books. Can you tell?

The Good Life

Heather at HumbleArts posted recently about 3 people who have inspired her idea of domestic bliss. I'm taking up the theme, though it's hard to pick just three. I'd have to say, most of all, my mother, and paternal and maternal grandmothers. All of them kept/keep very different but tidy and industrious houses, and they all did big projects. Dad's mother always had a vegetable garden larger than my house lot, and when I was very little, two milk cows, a flock of chickens, and a few pigs. These are the things I think she herself was responsible for, above and beyond the other activities of a beef farm. I don't remember Mum's mother doing farm work even when she was younger, but she must have, I suppose, before the 12 children got numerous enough and big enough. I do remember her always working on complicated, fine quality pieced quilts. In the past few years, she has moved to an apartment in town, and she keeps this up. Mum always has lots of projects, including gardens but not livestock and quilts so far (the quilts, not the livestock). A short list: sewing wedding, prom, and bridesmaid dresses; upholstering sofas and chairs; and renovating a century-old farmhouse. She manages these with a full-time job. When Ron and I moved into our house last year, we found that we couldn't get the double boxspring (mattress foundation) up the staircase because of the limited headroom. I was ready to give it away and asked Mum and Dad if they wanted it for one of their spare beds. Mum asked if I really was giving it away. Yes, I said. She and Dad opened the seams of the boxspring cover, peeled it off, used a circular saw to cut the slats in half, folded it lengthwise with springs intact, and then carried it up the stairs and put it back together. Not a trace of this operation was evident when they were done, and the boxspring has never so much as creaked. The moral of this story is "No project is too big or too crazy." I like the idea that I am carrying on in the example of other women in my family, keeping an industrious and beautiful homelife that somehow manages to calm the craziness. I don't have mad bulls in the pasture (and my garden is the size of a big postage stamp) or big quilts (ok, no quilts) being basted in the spare room, but I think of their everyday busyness and it makes my punctuated multi-tasked life seem more manageable.

Two corners

The front porch is done, and of course, we asked why we hadn't painted it earlier. Well, that's because we had to do Peter's room, the office, the bathroom, the back porch, and the kitchen cupboards (since we moved in last February), and our bedroom, the playroom, the living room, and the kitchen in the month between closing and move-in. Ron, Peter, and I played with the Sico color chips last night and picked out these new colors for the hall and staircase.

You might be thinking that the red Moroccan rug (well, klim actually) is an unusual choice to go with the vintage-y quilt, chair, and everything else. It is. That's my life. I got the klim during my first Moroccan fieldwork in 1998.

Me-me!

Tom sent me this. I have the timer on 5 minutes. Here goes:
1. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR KITCHEN PLATES? blue and white, several different patterns
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW? Last Child in the Woods, Market Day in Provence, Imagined Diasporas.
3. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD? I have touchpads instead of mice.
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE BOARD GAME? Carcasson or Scrabble. I don't really like board games.
5. LEAST FAVOURITE SMELLS? Dirty diaper when I'm tired and don't really want to change another one.
6. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? What time is it?
7. FAVOURITE COLOUR: Green.
8. LEAST FAVOURITE COLOUR: Black, either despite or because I used to wear a lot of it.
9. HOW MANY RINGS UNTIL YOU ANSWER THE PHONE? At the office, first ring, even when I'm working. I can't stand a ringing phone. At home, often several because I don't generally have a phone next to me.
10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME? Won't go there.
11. YOUR FAVOURITE ICE CREAM? Good vanilla.
12. DO YOU LIKE TO DRIVE FAST? No.
13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL? No.
14. DO YOU LIKE THUNDERSTORMS? Yes.
15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR? Mazda Protege 1997, which we still drive.
16. WHAT IS YOUR SIGN? Virgo, but think that horoscopes are more opportunities for psychoanalysis than prediction. I won't go on about that because of said timer.
17. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS OF BROCCOLI? Yes, but I hate broccoli.
18. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY JOB WHAT WOULD IT BE? Current job, with tenure.
19. IF YOU COULD HAVE ANY COLOR HAIR, WHAT WOULD IT BE? I like my hair, even the gray.
20. IS THE GLASS HALF FULL OR HALF EMPTY? Half full, definitely.
21. FAVOURITE MOVIES? The Last Night (Don McKellar), What Dreams May Come (sorry, I don't have time to look up the director -- the one starring Robin Williams).
22. DO YOU TYPE WITH YOUR FINGERS ON THE RIGHT KEYS? Yes. I used typing-lesson software back in the days on 1200kbps dial-up.
23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED? A folded blanked, I think.
24. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE NUMBER? Huh?
25. FAVOURITE SPORTS TO WATCH? Oh dear. Football, but only with Ron, definitely.
26. YOUR SINGLE BIGGEST INTENSE PAIN? Childbirth.
27. KETCHUP OR MUSTARD? Both.
28. HAMBURGER OR HOT DOG? Rarely.
29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SEASON? Whichever one it is. I'm very Zen.
30. THE BEST PLACE YOU HAVE EVER BEEN? Hmmm. Maybe hanging out in Tarifa with Ron during a fieldwork break. Or hanging out in Tarragona or Barcelona with Ron. Both were vacations during stressful times, and we didn't have a lot of money.
31. WHAT SCREEN SAVER IS ON YOUR COMPUTER RIGHT NOW? Family pictures.
32. FAVOURITE FAST FOOD? Hamburger Happy Meal with a milk and cookies instead of a toy.
33. WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE TYPE OF MUSIC? Classical, always.
34. FAVOURITE REALITY SHOW? I can't bear to watch reality shows. I used to like La Course du Monde in the 1990s. Maybe the wrong name? Made in Quebec, 30 contestants were sent around the world with video cameras and sent in short documentaries.

11 minutes. Oh well.

Self-portrait Wednesday? Oh well.

I have been reading people's Self-Portrait Tuesday posts for a while. Many people take honest pictures sans makeup, sometimes of what they think are their worst features. Everyone looks quite beautiful, in fact, and it scares me into waiting another few weeks before considering my own contribution. Today, one day late no less, I decided that this would be the day. I took a few pictures without makeup, and I think I look like Sir Edmund Hillary in them. Well, actually this website said I look like 69 percent like Sir Edmund Hillary. That's not so bad, right? He's tough and smart and it shows in his face. And he's a 93-year-old man. If you check the link I've included you'll see a picture of him when he was young and arguably handsome. This is not the picture that the website said I look like. They meant the old one. Not to disappoint SEH, several months later, I finally got out the lipgloss, mascara, and handy Maybelline concealer, and tried again. I think the fear and scepticism show in my expression. But hey, I'm out here on Mount Everest.

Little projects

On the way home for lunch today, I looked through the window at the Sally-Ann's linen rack and saw these two quilts. Both are machine sewn and hand-quilted, about 6 stiches per inch. The lavender one is all cotton; the log cabin is a mix, and needs a bit of repairs. (There was an article on this in MSL August 2005. Basically, cut a block, fold and iron a hem all round. Back with quilt batting. Invisible stitch in place, over the existing tattered block.) In any case, the colors are charming: soft greens and blues with punches of black, red, and orange. Great for Peter's new room. They were $3.99 each.

Can you tell, by the way, that I've started painting the front porch? It was yesterday's little project: I got most of it done during Peter's unexpected afternoon nap. If you look closely, you can see where I stopped painting in the upper corner of the clapboard. Little baby woke up.

Imitation

Peter's laying down reading a book on his back with his knees bent, just like me. After Ron took the picture, Peter said "Beep," like the camera's electronic noise. He's become quite interested lately with sitting like I do, often cross-legged on the floor, or cross-legged on a chair. His legs are so short that he can manage just to cross his ankles, but seems very happy with that. When he was younger, he seemed to be a random variation machine as he tried endlessly different combinations of movements, especially as he was trying to roll and then crawl. But one of the things I notice is how much Peter has has learned by imitation. He surprises us with these little gifts every few days. For a few months now, he has been placing his socks and shoes on top of his feet; then, a few weeks ago, he put his feet into Ron's size-9 slippers. Last week, he took my keys and pressed them against the porch doorknob and then tried to turn it. Yesterday, he put his hat on before going outside. Then, after watching me prune off last year's flower stalks from some of the perennials, he pinched the pruners and started poking at the lavender with them. (Are you thinking, What? She let a 13-month-old play with pruning shears? I did, with very, very close supervision.) Ron noticed a few days ago that Peter had got out his two xylophones and placed them side by side and was playing them both. And he seems to be suddenly interested in books again, especially ones with realistic drawings. Yesterday, he said "Kitty" while looking at a book with cat pictures. We can see that he's slowly learning that things have functions and similarities.

Garden shopping, light hiking, and my desire to be less productive sometimes

We managed to do a lot today: up early and out in the garden, dug up some plants that are going to a new and more spacious home with friends across town, then off to Corn Hill Nursery after lunch to buy some climbing roses for the front garden (to hopefully climb over the porch) and to have a little walk through their gardens. We had lots of fun picking out Henry Kelsey and William Baffin from the Explorer series climbing roses, and a single-flowering (ie 5-petaled) Rugosa Alba for a hole in the back garden hedge. The front garden is quite small, and I've been calling it a Shakespeare Garden (inspired by the beautiful one at Illinois State U's Ewing Cultural Centre) although it's really early for such a grand name. Last summer I planted some old roses, lavender, irises, lilies, thyme, rosemary, and a few more plants mentioned in the plays. This summer I'd like to work on planting a camomile lawn, probably by cutting out a few small areas of turf to begin with and direct seeding. Advice welcome. The back garden is a well established perennial garden with formal bones: a neat square of wide beds with a lawn in the middle. It's tidy and small, with good hedges on two sides, and the house and garage on the other two. I've been giving away the things that don't make my heart sing (creeping phlox anyone? centaurea?), and replacing them with white and yellow fairly low key flowers. I describe it as a Victorian fantasy of a wildflower garden. I'll blog about the gardens once they are more than mulch: it's so early in the season for us.

Cornhill's display garden seems a little bit behind Sackville, maybe a week or so, but it was beautiful. The early spring garden really shows off the quiet things like bark colors that we often miss. It also highlights the structure of the hard elements, like branch fences. Not quite the wild nature hikes I wrote about earlier this week, but it's a start. In any case, I was wearing flipflops.

Ron was away for a few days, and Peter and I picked out a hiking in New Brunswick book at our local bookstore yesterday. I'm excited about some local trails that I hadn't heard of before, but as I was going through it tonight, I started to think again about domesticating nature: these are all "official" trails, not quite boardwalks, but they've been authenticated and described and given a stamp of approval. What I'm concerned about it increasing not just our time outside, but our time exploring and getting muddy, not racking up points on a list of trails. It's hard to rein in that desire for productivity.

Munchausen by proxy, fieldnotes, and baby blogs

I had made a note about this in a sidebar that got lost. I started this blog last summer partly because we have friends and family in many different places and we're not very good at sending letters with pictures in them (ok, we've never done that), but mostly because we're both somewhat hypochondriac. As Peter grew and started to look and act less and less like a crying, flailing potato, I found myself thinking, "There, he's smiling. He's making eye contact. He's engaged." Not because these were milestones that he had reached before some other real or imagined baby, but because they were little bits of evidence that he didn't have autism. A few years ago, I read a feature on autism in the Globe that reported some expert's hypothesis that the remarkably high rate of autism in the Silicon Valley area was due to a concentration of nerd genes. More or less. So these fieldnotes on babykeeping were (are?) about having proof (if you write it down it's data) at some point in the future that Peter had smiled, made eye contact, occasionally volunteered appropriate words. I don't worry so much about it these days, but it's always in the back of my mind: what if something goes wrong? When does baby-strange become clinical-strange? Will I notice the difference? My heart breaks for those who know.

Another kitchen corner

kitchen shelf
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Although what was on the counter in this picture was cheddar cheese (Sussex Extra Old) and my daybook, this corner is usually where more serious cooking takes place: measuring dry ingredients, folding chocolate into egg whites, crushing garlic and spices. This corner is behind "my" side of the table too, which is where I pare and chop, and especially where I go through my Joy of Cooking, looking for something fun or challenging or fast. I just finished reading Julie Powell's Julie and Julia about cooking her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year, and I have to say that I'm glad that never occurred to me! I got my copy in Illinois, tried a few things that I liked (especially the basic vegetables) and a few that I didn't, but mostly used it for sauces and basic techniques. But when I got Joy of Cooking in 2002 I started keeping track of the ones I made with a handwritten date, and when I noticed that I had worked my way through a few pages completely, I started to joke with Ron that I was planning to cook everything. I think I have blogged about it occasionally, but I'm still cleaning my kitchen, and I'm not planning to test recipes on dinner guests.

Bye

my guys in the kitchen
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Sandra, Peter's keeper for the three days a week Ron and I are both working, says that Peter saw someone putting on her coat today and started to wave goodbye. He says bye quite a bit, though mostly after the person leaving has already left. It was "bah" for a month or so, then this past week it really became "bye" with a good dipthong at the end. He likes to practice at the door from the kitchen to the playroom, standing behind the door and opening and closing it, smiling and saying bye.

Wordlist

Ron and Peter 3
Originally uploaded by run lily.

We sat at the table after supper tonight and made a list of Peter's words so far: dada, mama, nana, no, bite, what, Sandra, hot, cold, hat, kitty/Lily, yeah, good, all done, hello, bye, hi. Mama was his first word, but he abandoned it until just these past few weeks. Dada seemed to mean everything good for a while, but now it's just dada. Nada was also popular for a week or so: it seemed to mean mama and dada. Kitty/Lily sounds like ee-ee, in a high-pitched voice. Hot and cold (ot and old) were popular for a few days when Peter was first discovering the fridge. Thank heavens he's not so interested in it now. Hello is mostly associated with the telephone or proxies for the telephone, which have included the remote control, a toothbrush, hairbrush, blocks, a long car, and a banana. Good goes with the telephone too, as the answer to "How are you?" All done is the answer to "All done?" at meals.

Peter's things

I've been thinking about this for a while, and keep meaning to post it. It's so easy to forget. Shortly after Christmas, we started finding Peter's things in funny places. The first thing was a little white dog figurine on the red step stool in the kitchen. Then the dog on the black footstool in the living room. Then Peter's yellow Tonka dumptruck on the windowsill in the playroom. That's when I mentioned it to Ron. Last week, I noticed that Peter had put a little magnetic frame on the edge of the stairs, behind the babygate; the next day, it was his keychain. The edge of the stairs is where we put things that need to be returned to their "homes" upstairs; the next one to go up takes them. Peter's becoming more and more of an agent, asserting increasingly articulate actions. He hasn't yet adopted a toy that goes everywhere with him, or started to take things out the door when we leave the house, but I suppose that might be the next step. Peter's changed so, so, so much in just the past few months.

Front porch

Front porch
Originally uploaded by run lily.

This is another "before" picture. I think this little corner will be robin's egg blue before too long. It's bright with windows all round, and it's been a cosy place to sit and read, but the cool gray has to go. When we bought the house last winter, the floor was gray carpet too. It's since been replaced by my favorite linoleum (back porch too), and the walls are next.

Daniel Kedinger ...

dk_IMG_2944.JPG
Originally uploaded by danielkedinger.

This is flickr serendipity. I found the most amazing series of photos the other day. Daniel Kedinger's images of Easter week celebrations at Saint Joseph Abbey and Seminary in Saint Benedict, Louisiana, are breathtaking. They looked like stills from a stunningly beautiful film. Flip, flip, flip. And then I saw this one. Ha! Can I pick them, or what? I want to start the Daniel Kedinger fan club.

(Home) office windowsill

office windowsill
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I hesitate to call this an altar, but it is a little corner of the house that holds things that help me to pause and refocus. I like that they're all pretty close to nature, and simple forms. The stone vase was made by a Nova Scotia craftsperson; it's about 5 inches high, and often holds a few flowers in the summer, but only wildish ones, often a leaf or two. We bought it in the cafe/shop at Corn Hill Nursery on a beautiful day that we spent picking out plants for our new-old house. The square box is from Essaouira (Morocco) where I did my first fieldwork in 1998. And the tall vase with the leaf and flower imprint was a gift from one of my first honours students; it's made from local clay.
My office-office is cosy too. I'll have to post about it someday.

Reading: Last Child in the Woods

I've been reading Last Child in the Woods. The author argues that many social and physical problems can be traced to our decreasing regular, intense experience of nature. It makes me wonder if we get outside enough. We walk regularly to work and in the evenings and on free afternoons with Peter, and we do spend time digging in the garden, but we don't have opportunities for the long days of outdoor play that I experienced growing up: days when I'd leave the house after an early breakfast, and come in just for lunch and supper, both times tired and dirty. We are lucky to live near a park, but it pales in comparison to my grandparents' farm and the surrounding countryside that was my range when I was small. The waterfowl park has boardwalks and railings to keep people in, ostensibly to protect nature, but also to keep our feet dry and our faces and legs free from nicks and bruises. It is a zoo of a park. We also live near the shore, several shores, in fact: Silver Lake, which is very close and good for swimming; Cumberland Basin, which is edged by walkable dykes and mussel beds; Shepody Bay, where we lived on Dorchester Cape before Peter was born; and the Northumberland Strait, about half an hour's drive, but eminently beachly and worth the time in the car. I suppose that when Peter is bigger, he'll discover the wild unkept edges of the waterfowl park a minute from our door, and perhaps if he still notices the outside when he's bigger than that, the paths to Silver Lake and the dykes. I hope these will be more than beer-drinking places for his generation.

Mel's

Mel's
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Across the street from Bridge St Cafe (where, I once mentioned here, Ron says that you will see everyone if you stay for about 2 hours) is Mel's Tearoom. I do think they serve tea, but it's actually a diner/corner store. I often pick up milk here on the way in to the university, and we usually get our papers here too. These days, we also get maple cream here ($3.50 for a block the size of half a pound of butter). The menu is good diner food: club sandwiches, roast beef dinner, turkey dinner (apparently this is a maritime thing), and (ahem) canned Heinz spaghetti. For those who aren't skilled with a can opener, I guess. It's all good.

Peter's fourth auction: Babies Days Out

Peter's fourth auction
Originally uploaded by run lily.

One of the Flickr groups I like is Babies' Days Out. (I especially like the apostrophe in the group name, but I won't go on about it.) The group owner, Camster Factor, writes "I want to ensure that in years to come Amelia doesn't just have a (undoubtedly massive) series of close up portraits showing her facial development from first wind induced gripe through to self confident baby bouncer model via first tentative smile. There'll certainly be plenty of that in the albums, but I want to provide her with a set of memories by proxy, documents of the world she grew up in where she plays a key role as actor in those memories but importantly the stage on which those memories are played out is still included in the image, clear to see." This snapshot of Peter at Sunday's auction is notas good-looking as most of the BDO pool, and God-love-him he's right in the middle looking as posed as can be (that or a tantrum these days), but it is a document of our favorite kind of outing these days. This auction wasn't actually a great one: almost all of the furniture was quite new, the auctioneer was slow, there were too many Royal Doulton porcelain ladies. But the crowd was good humored toward the little guy wandering around, and he got to talk to lots of people before falling asleep for an hour and a half. The proceeds of this auction, an estate, went to support the Moncton Hospital.

yesterday's auction find

yesterday's auction find
Originally uploaded by run lily.

The auction season has started up again. We went to one on Sunday (I bought a 1950s-era quilt for the spare room), and then another yesterday. I now have my oak table, and paid $65 for it. The auctioneer described it as "early," which I think means "that looks some old, doesn't it." The legs are turned solid oak, and the top is made of 5 boards, each 6 inches or so wide. We pulled off a sheet of chipboard that had been nailed to the top, and cleaned it with salt. It's missing its drawers, but I think we can get that taken care of.

A felted wool coat for Peter

A felted wool coat for Peter
Originally uploaded by run lily.

This little coat is just about done -- it still needs a zipper, and the trim. Peter loved it even half done, and wore it around the house for half an hour after I took his picture. He protested when I started to take it off, but eventually agreed to trade the coat for two little cuffs that he wore instead. The sweater was a men's large before felting, and I've resewn it in blanket stitch with 3 strands of embroidery thread. Lots of fun today!

Things that make Peter laugh

Peter started laughing when he was just a few months old. At first, his laugh was a burble -- like a brook. Sandra (who keeps him a few days a week) said that Cohen (who's 4) had asked one day about the sound Peter made, and she explained that he was laughing. He used to laugh like a nut when I played pattycake with him, and then a bit later when we played peek-a-boo. He still enjoys those games sometimes, but they don't make him laugh the way they used to. Now he laughs loudly, big "ha ha ha!" kinds of laughs. These are some of the things that he finds funny these days. I wish I had started this list earlier.

1. Seeing someone he loves -- mama, dada, Lily -- come into the room.
2. Having mama whisper silly sounds against the back of his cheeks and neck.
3. Watching dada pretend to scare him with funny faces.
4. The word blah-blah-blah.
5. Being tickled on his kneecaps and behind his knees.
6. Other people laughing.

Green, green, green

We painted Peter's room right after his first birthday. I like the color: it's calming, and soft, and reminds me of the color of tree leaves with sunlight streaming down through them. We added a soft (made in Canada, artificial fibre) straw-colored rug for playing and reading on. At some point, I'll replace the quilt (this one was made by my grandmother many, many years ago) with one that can take more frequent washings.

The gingham one folded over the rocking chair was made by Grammy too, especially for Peter. It has hand-stitched heart appliques, and is entirely hand-quilted in a circles and stripes pattern. She's 88 now.

Vintage

Even though my students no longer look incredulous when I (only half in jest) say that I was already in university when they were born, I still don't get it. Really, I mean. The 80s are as far off now as the 50s were when I was in elementary school. The 50s were Happy Days and sockhops for us, a theme-park of a decade. And the 40s were a fable, some far-off place where our parents were born but left as children to come to the New World and be modern. Even the 1970s seems like the recent past to me, though more and more the catchphrases are seeming odd. When I felt last week that I just never had fun anymore, and grocery shopping by myself qualified as a "day out," I suddenly realized that this is what women meant in the 1970s by taking time to "find yourself." Except no one says that anymore. Ron brought this "vintage" tricycle home from his mum's a few weeks ago. They bought it new for him.

Tuesday

Peter's at Sandra's playing with the kids, and I have been working at home today, mostly on a book review of Imagined Diasporas, by Pnina Werbner. It's very good, but dense. This afternoon I want to spend some time making a wish list of acquisitions for my new courses. This will be fun, as finally I'm spending someone else's grant money! Woohoo! The university hasn't employed a Middle East specialist before, so the collection is weak and unprogrammed in that area. It's a big task, but I've got a plan: a list of topics (overviews, economy, political systems, kinship, gender, belief systems, popular culture, ethnic minorities, language, social movements, life cycle) with major backlist and current works for each. I'm not even thinking about what this may cost.

Friday's foray to the art sales wasn't as much fun as I'd anticipated. Peter and I went at 4:30, just as Ron's auditions were beginning. The benefit auction works were still being hung, but we poked around anyway and didn't find anything that made my heart leap. The student sale did have lots of fun things (piles of linocuts for $7 each!), but everything was on the floor and I couldn't put Peter down. That made going through things very awkward. I tracked down an illustrator a few years ago by asking the drawing prof to recommend someone, and my lovely linocuts for Peter's room may come about this way. The ones I liked on Etsey have sold, and the creator doesn't do commissions. I was disappointed by that.

Otherwise, things are going well, I guess. Ron's mum is in the hospital (a few hours away) and we are concerned about that. Peter is getting over his cold. I'm sleeping somewhat better, but still stressed and tired. I need to get this review done, then back to my henna practices article. Ron's schedule is getting busier and busier, and there are more and more evening meetings and shows. That is our life, I guess.

Weekend plans

It's Friday and Ron has big plans for this afternoon and tonight that do not involve Peter and me. So we'll be trying to amuse ourselves. Life in a college town is great that way -- there's almost always something interesting going on. Today it's TWO art sales: one to benefit Habitat for Humanity and featuring work by Thaddeus Holownia and Jeff Burns (likely to be big money-raisers), and the other of work by fine arts students who (one hopes) will one day be the stars in their own benefit auction. We have a small but cherished collection of art, and maybe Peter and I will find something to add today. He hasn't shown much interest yet in (my favorite) abstract landscapes, but the students tell me that's very old school. Sunday I want to go to Cornhill Nursery and get a few more rosebushes for the front garden. I'm hoping that strategic placement will make the front porch a bit cosier without seeming overgrown and cramped. Off now to get the babe.

Redecorating Peter's room

Redecorating Peter's room
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Peter has his new room: soft green walls, linen blinds, cream and orange carpet. I'd still like to order some red bird linocuts (Flying in the Rain and You Can Do It) from littlestflower.typepad.com, and maybe bring up his red chair from the playroom, but otherwise it's done. Yeay! It looks like a little boy room.

Crystal Palace locomotive, Peter's first birthday

Crystal Palace locomotive, Peter's first birthday
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Ron and I managed to (mostly) take the day off yesterday -- me from writing, him from festival planning. I had planned a busy day, but decided Thursday night that I just couldn't do it. Tariq Ali can wait, and so can my article.

We went for a lovely walk in the morning, and then after a brief stop at the university to hug and kiss Allison and Darlene at the social science faculty office, we went to the amusement park, with a stop at Frenchy's to look for rug wool and assorted things. I picked up a hat that looked to be the right size and put it on Peter's head. He said, "Hat," with a nice H and even a T at the end. He's done that a few times since. We took a nursing break on a bench at Chapter's, and Peter seemed to be such a big boy. Another woman was nursing a very young baby, and suddenly Peter was the big toddler, walking over to stand and look at the little one. We went on all the little kid rides at Crystal Palace, and then back home in the evening, Peter decided that he was going to show us all his tricks and took off the lovely fish shirt he was wearing. I made another birthday cake (hot milk sponge cake from Joy of Cooking turned into a jelly roll with whipped cream and melted chocolate folded in). I can't believe he's one.

Birthday bunting

Birthday bunting, view into laundry room
Originally uploaded by run lily.

Well, the holiday bunting is almost done. I got the red gingham tape this afternoon, then pinned and arranged until it was the right length for the little space under the plate rail in the kitchen hallway. The flags are recycled thrift shop pieces: one tiny cafe curtain (the lineny yellow and blue floral), one medium quality, quite worn poly-cotton blue stripd pillowcase, and one absolutely amazing brilliantly new top quality yellow gingham bolster pillowcase. The flag dimensions were based on the size of the tiny cafe curtain: how many flags could I cut without wasting a scrap? In the end, I have two extras, so I'm going to make more of the stripe and gingham. It's not reversible, but it is very nice looking on the reverse: the stripe is lined in white, and the other two in the yellow gingham. I am mad for gingham.

This project was inspired all the way by Posy's beautiful bunting (posy.typepad.com). I love the idea of hanging it for birthdays, holidays, rainy days, blue days ... I'm planning to hang it on Peter's door on his actual birthday, but have it downstairs for the party tomorrow. The extra flags will be turned into another length of bunting as soon as I get more red gingham tape

"One Good Thing": flea's letter to her sons Alex and Chris

This was linked from Blogging Baby, and I wanted to make sure I didn't lose it. It's a lesson that I think of every day. I lecture occasionally on women's sexuality in my anthropology classes, and talk about how our society doesn't really recognize the validity of women's erotic feelings. Being able to really say "I want it" means that it doesn't preclude later saying "I don't like that, please don't do it." Flea's column today is a letter to her young sons about their responsibility as white men to protect the defenseless, even when no one else is, even when everyone else is going along with it. I won't try to tell the rest. She takes my breath away.

Inspiration: Button magnets

I'm wishing I had more time for fun stuff like making the button magnets that Mollycoddle posted on her site. How sweet are these? Back to real life. I'm actually taking a few minutes out of revising my article for Research in Economic Anth. Good news today: the editor likes it and wants the final version soon for peer review. I had been struggling with "what it should be" vs "what I know and want to say" in the introduction. Once I let go of trying to write "what it should be" then it all tumbled out nicely and clearly. I do have to go back and reorganize some parts in the middle, and flesh out the second paragraph of the introduction, but I think that's it.

Peter's baby room

Peter's baby room
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I think we're going to paint it soon, and wanted to remember the way it was when he was a little mouse. The wall color is a left-over from previous owners, who had paired it with a Southwest-style (1980ish) border. One of dh's drama students did the polka-dot border above the moulding. Sadly, that will go. It reminds me of boiled eggs, which I especially loved when I was pregnant and seemed to be the only thing that kept my stomach settled. I've already taken down the sheer cotton curtains that mum and I had embellished with gingham tape (purple, green, yellow) that matches the animal border that we used to hide the mess where we removed the old one. I had been planning to leave the room as is, waiting for another little stranger, but I think it's time for a change.

Half an hour's work

After pulling my hair out for most of the day, I took a break, made oatmeal scones (with chocolate chips instead of raisins) from Joy of Cooking, and we had them for a snack with strawberries and whipped cream. (Actually, Ron did much of the cooking while I directed from the sofa where I was nursing Peter.) After the break I went back to work and pounded out enough in the next half hour to feel that I had actually put in a good day's work. The rhythm of writing still surprises me sometimes.

At 5 Ron went off to a meeting, and Peter and I started some evening projects. I took the bi-fold door off his closet (it needs to be replaced with a proper panel door) and installed a curtain rod and curtains there instead. It's soft and sweet, and gives him a place to hide since the lowest shelf is about 30" off the ground. When I had the shelves installed, I wanted the lowest one high enough to leave room for tall packages of diapers. I'm still plotting to get the room painted sometime soon. Sunday is Peter's family birthday party, but Saturday seems free. Maybe then.

Braided rug project

Braided rug project
Originally uploaded by run lily.

I wanted to do a braided rug for the kitchen floor, something colorful and warm (for baby bottoms as well as our feet). It's made from strips of wool fabric snipped from thrift shop clothes that have been machine washed and dried. The fabric comes out shrunken, but not really felted. (Maybe the next rug will be from felted sweaters, though.) Cut the strips 2" wide, braid 3 of them together, and then start coiling and sewing. I make a braid a few feet long, and then coil it around, and (using heavy upholstery thread and a big needle) sew the coils. I've heard of people "lacing" the braids together invisibly, but I haven't done that (mostly because I'm clueless). I don't turn the raw edges together either, but I might try that next time, though it's not bothering me. A clothespin holds the working end so that the braid stays together. You can see it in the photo -- this is a work in progress.

So far, I've gone through one long coat and one blazer (red), one pleated knee-length skirt (cream), two straight knee-length skirts (black), and one pair of knee-length shorts (red plaid). It's a challenge to find the right tones, but it's cheap. One of our local thrift shops (Frenchy's) sells wool items for hooking at a dollar each. That brings the total so far to $6.