regarding the catalogue

Don't be alarmed but I think we may have had a break in.


I'm fairly sure that Shannon Dietzmann Elliot broke into our house in the night, snuck up to our bedroom, attached electrodes to my brain and recorded every bit of my style sense.


She even got that plumb is my signature color.


And she would have totally gotten away with it if she hadn't printed up a catalogue and sent it to a million people including me.


If I had any clout whatsoever, I would call up Anthropologie to let them know that one of their senior buyers is ripping off other people's style identities and demand royalties on the late Summer collection.


I mean, just imagine her stealing fashion sense like that and not giving me any credit. The nerve.


I'm also pretty sure she was the one who ate the rest of the Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey. Heaven knows it wasn't me because I'm supposed to be on a diet on account of the fact that I broke down and bought fat pants. Which in my world equates to rock bottom.

Do you see those shoes? The ones in the front with the flowers on the t-strap. Yeah those. 

They will be mine.

p.s.

Dearest Readers,


I want you to know that today I am a new woman. Renewed. Invigorated.


Watch out.


Sincerely,


April


P.S. I should probably also mention that Sugar Daddy and I spent the weekend away from our little brood of three in Palm Springs (P.S. for short).  We stayed at The Colony Palms Hotel which was built in the 30's by notorious gangster Al Wertheimer. The Hotel was a destination spot for young Hollywood elite during the 30's and 40's.


I fell in love with the architecture and design of the hotel.  It was a breath of fresh air after staying in Hiltons and Hyatts and the like.

You may be sitting there looking at your computer screen thinking to yourself, now what could you possibly do in Palm Springs in June? Isn't is like a billion degrees?

To that I say, yes. It is like standing on the surface of the freakin' sun.  

But. There are no children there to need something right this instant before they starve to death/pinch their fingers/wipe boogers on the wall/lose all muscle control and fall to the ground in agony.

So you are free to lay by the pool for an absurd amount of time sipping mint lemonades and watching all the pretty couples make-out in the pool.

And you might take a bath or two in the claw foot tub and watch movies in your room under the ceiling fan whilst eating chocolate covered cranberries.

And there's other stuff too.

On that note, let's revisit the pretty people.  There was a disproportionate amount of glamorous types staying at The Colony Palms.  And really how's a girl to feel?  So many firm unbabybirthing bodies in tiny little bikinis.  There was a lot of long strait hair framing expensive looking sunglasses. The men wore linen shirts unbuttoned to expose suntanned bodies and walked around like they owned the place.  They wore their large watches into the pool.

I gawked, hidden behind my own moderately priced sunglasses.  Our lemonades were unleaded and we made sure to slather every inch of our bodies with 50 spf.  Sugar Daddy sat under the umbrella in his Clark Kent glasses and worked on his laptop a little.  I busied myself adjusting my swimsuit to strategically cover all things that the sun and other people should never see and feeling quite like a big poser and wondering just when I lost my moxie.

Which got me feeling pretty irritated with the unbabybirthing beauties.  I just wanted to stand up in my Shade swimsuit and say to each one of those girls, "Hey you girls, just you wait! Do you even know how many calories are in those cocktails your downing one right after another? Of course you don't. Well lemme tell you something! Enjoy it. Enjoy it now because in ten years it will be a different ball game. And not a fair one at that!" That would show em.

But after a time I calmed down. And I owned my Shade swimsuit and lemonade. Sugar Daddy came out from under the umbrella and we took a dip. We didn't make-out in the pool because first, ew, p.d.a. is w.t., and second we have been together long enough to realize that the true measure of love is found when after sixteen years of marriage, you still have stuff to talk about.

You know, interesting stuff like the future of real estate, home decor and sippy cups.

You can see more pics of our trip here.

plotting...

I held a business card case in my hand. It was silver and etched with wonderful scrolling flourishes. The heft of the item made my hands warm. I ran my thumb over the etching.

"Is beautiful no?" said the French man behind the counter.

"Oh it's beautiful alright." I replied and continued to stroke the case.

"Every woman should have a case, but this one es, wellll, it should go to someone who appreciate. You know?"

"Yes. I wish It could be mine but I'm afraid my husband wouldn't approve of such a purchase. It's not even my birthday."

At this point the French man leaned over the counter and motioned for me to come closer.

"Madame," he whispered, "I see no husband with you today."

And he smiled a very French smile.


Why is it when I shop, even window shop, I feel devious, like I'm plotting to spend money?


I think I'll get over that.

French Ruffle Dress

Pastelito Crochet Necklace

Outfit Lunch Plates

Praline Blouse - nO.049

Favorite Flickr Pix 

(Please click for credits)

you wanna piece of me?

 
I will say this: It's good to be needed.


But my word.


The phone rang yesterday. The home phone. No one important ever calls us on our home phone because we never answer it. We are annoying that way.  


So I'm really not sure why I answered it this time but I did.  The conversation went something like this:

Hello? (Breathless after loading two babies and groceries out of the car)

Hi! Mrs. Meeker? This is Carole from Best Carpet Cleaning. Can I have a moment of your time? 

(Pregnant pause)

Well Carole, no. You cannot, because I haven't peed since ten this morning and the eggs are getting warm in the car. So sorry. I gotta go.

Okay... well...okay. Maybe another time?

Probably not.

Okaaayyyy. Well goodbye then.

Bye.

Rude. I know. But people! Lemme tell ya.


When you are a mother of three kids, two of which can't even get their bodies into or out of the car, you don't have time to talk to carpet people. You don't even have time to pee.


I swear to you my bladder must have grown twice it's usual size over the past year. That can't be healthy.  Can a bladder actually burst? What would happen if it did? Isn't pee sterile? 


And the real kicker is even when I do find time to dash to the bathroom, even if I manage to allude the two older kids and sneak off to the lesser used toilet and leave the light off so as to be undetectable, the dog finds me and stands there and breaths his doggy breath and looks like he is expecting something. I have never, not once, given him a dog treat while I'm on the toilet. I don't know where he's getting this from.


Why am I telling you all this? Too much information? Where's the censorship? (In case you haven't noticed, I don't censor a whole lot here on the blog, much to my father's chagrin.)


I'm telling you this because when I tell you no, I cannot remake a necklace or adjust the length on a pair of earrings or even accept a special order, it's because I can't. Really. It's not because I don't love you. 


So be patient with me. If you want something from me, I want your money you to have it. I'm working my way through this crazy ride I'm on.  I'm setting aside a few hours every week to be in my studio. 


Several kid free hours to design and silversmith and pee at my leisure. Oh the luxury.


And now to some lazy Summer day pictures wherein my children look angelic.

charley d.

Charley D. is four years old.

Charley D. likes to eat cold cereal on her knees at the bar.

Charley D. also likes strawberries and powdered doughnuts.

Charley D. truly believes she is a princess and who's gunna argue with that?
I mean really.

Charley D. is my niece and I miss her so very much.

redemption

One year ago I wrote this letter. Today I write this:

Dear Sara,

Or Bead Shop Girl as I think of you in my mind.

I can't tell you how happy I am that I followed my whim to do a little bead shopping today.  I can't tell you how good it felt to finally apologize for my brash behavior one year ago. I can't tell you how overjoyed I am that you have a baby boy. And our son's are the same age. Imagine that.

Life is strange. God is good. Beads are addictive.

Maybe some day we will meet up outside the store and our son's can play in the sand and we can talk shop.

Sincerely,

Happily,

Contentedly,

The girl with the Petunia Pickle Bottom diaper bag.

*************************************

Now here's another little matter I've been meaning to address. It seems whenever I post photos of jewelry on Suaviloquy that I have added to my shop, someone buys it and my most favorite people of all, you readers, don't get it in time. And then I have people saying, "So where's the such and such you said was in your shop?" 

So.

I'm showing you this piece that I just finished that I haven't added to my shop yet.  If you want to buy it, leave a comment and let me know. I'll reserve it for you when I add it to the shop on Thursday.  It's called "June Bloom" and it has a vintage brooch and a really cool old vintage button. The brooch is missing a couple rhinestones which I decided not to replace because, well, I want it to look old. The flowers are cotton and silk. It is backed with silver leather. The oval rings are shell and the beads on the strand are smoky quartz. It's $90.00.

welcome to my studio

My studio has been "under construction" for so long now, I can't remember when I started.

What I do know is that it will never be done. I don't want it to be. If it is to be a space to call my own, then it must change with my whims. I'm a fickle gal. One day I love something and the next I'm over it. This is why I can never ever get a tattoo. What a fiasco that would be.

So here it is, as it is today. A little cleaner than usual because well, I knew you'd be looking.

buzz off

So.


Summer is here in full swing. There is swimming. There is neighborhood night games. There is ice cream. Best of all, there are barbeques. Oh my I do love a good dinner party on a warm Summer night. 


If I were a drinkin' gal, I'd bring my host a cold six pack and a bag of peanuts, but I'm not. A drinkin' gal that is. I'm a crafty gal. And here is what I will be making for hostess gifts over the next few months.


I call them "Buzz Off Drink Covers".  Not only are they super cute, they also keep bugs out of your drink and if you make each cover in your set a little different, you can use them to tell who's drink belongs to who.


Here's the super easy how to:


Step one:


Cut two pieces of fabric into six inch squares.  Adorn one piece of fabric. I embroidered some of my covers with mendhi style designs that I drew. You can find them here. On the other set, I ruffled some contrasting fabric and sewed that on.  I plan to embroider a set to keep with our monogram on them. You can make them as fancy or as plain as your little heart desires.


Step two:


For each cover you will need four beads. One for each corner. I suggest using beads that have a little weight to them. They will keep the cover on your drink better if there is a breeze. Tie each bead onto a length of string and tie a knot an inch away from the bead.

Step three:


Pin each bead onto the right side of your fabric making sure that the beads fall towards the center of the cover. The end of the string should poke directly out from the corner.

Step four:


Pin the right sides of your fabric together. The beads will be sandwiched between your fabric.

Step five:


Using a quarter inch seam allowance, sew around the outside edge of the square. Make sure the knots from the strings are on the outside of the seam (the salvage edge).  Leave an inch of the square open. Turn the square right side out.  Turn the edges of the hole together and press the entire square. Now you can sew around the edge again with a decorative stitch making sure to close off the inch that was left open.

Don't forget to present your gift with flare. Presentation is everything darling.  I will be gifting mine stacked together with a package of lemonade mix and a large bow.

Happy Summer! Happy crafting!