bag lady

photo source

My car broke down yesterday.

So there is that to talk about.  

It started with the radio cutting out. Suze Rotolo was being interviewed by Margot Adler.  Margot read this passage written about Suze by Bob Dylan in his autobiography.  It was pretty vivd and strong worded and totally enchanting, and right when Margot asked for Suze's response to these words the radio went dead.

That pissed me off pretty good.  

Then the car jerked and sputtered and came to a stop right in the middle of traffic.  And my hazards didn't even work.  

And I had a sweaty bandana on my head because I was coming home from the gym and running errands.

But the most amazing thing happened.

It was a pretty dangerous situation because cars couldn't see that I was stopped and they kept coming up really fast and then swerving to miss me.  This went on for a good five minutes or so and then my knight in shinning armor showed up. Sugar Daddy? No. He was at work.  

This knight was about seventy years old with a derby cap and a Members Only jacket.  He parked behind me and turned on his hazards.  

Sweet Mr. Derby man. I'll love you forever.

The story ends with me walking home in my bandana, with my shopping bags in my black greasy hands and only one shoe.  

Frankly I'm surprised I wasn't arrested for vagrancy.

But this is the stuff of life though eh?  

It's the day to day occurrences that build our life.  There are crappy times and really super good times and all the squishy matter in between.

Sometimes you eat crow, sometimes you eat macaroons. That's what I always say.  Well, not really. That just came to me just now.

So here's my point. I do have one. I think.

What I want to say today is when next I find myself nibbling a macaroon or a baby cheek I'm going to remember to cache that happiness so next time I am walking down a road with only one shoe and grease smudges, like a bag lady, I can draw on those specks of sweetness and laugh heartily out loud at life.

But not in front of any cops.

Don't think twice, It's alright by Bob Dylan

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

march on

download this wallpaper here

I've always thought of March as a bridge into Spring.  God's way of saying carry on, there are good times ahead.

I made a wallpaper. Hope you like it. I decided to use one of my illustrations this month.  It's simple, but I am happy with it.

I want to tell you about a gem of a shop I found.  It's called Two Art Directors and a Photographer.  They carry vintage and antique items. Not only do they find the coolest old things to sell, the pictures are enchanting.

Those globe pin cushions- they are sold. And that fact just simply breaks my heart.

dispatches from the artic

I thought I would just mention now, because I forgot to complain about it last week, that it was colder than a well diggers butt in San Fran.

I froze my tootsies off.  But man oh man,  we ate a trail across the city the likes of which my belly has never seen!  

We started with French food, because well, you know. It's French.  And at the frou frou frenchy cafe', we started with escargot.  In case you are wondering, because I always did, they taste exactly like a garlicky, buttery mushroom.  Exactly. But they are like a billion times more expensive, so next time I will just ask them to stuff some mushrooms into the shells so I can still use the little frou frou shell holders and fork to eat them.  I like to feel fancy.

We went to an art museum where I saw a Monet that I almost stole except I'm just not smart enough to pull it off.  In fact, I spent most of my time in the museum feeling like a great big poser. Which is really weird because when I was in collage I loved my art history classes and felt totally at home in museums.

You see what kids will do to you? They make you feel like you can't even act civilized. And damn it, I like art. I know a fair bit about it. I should be able to enjoy it.

Can you even imagine having your own Monet? I mean really.  How dreamy.

The Chinese New Year Parade was a let down.  I was hoping for a really big show. It lasted forever, but it was mostly local schools and dance groups. It quickly became obvious to us that most of the onlookers where parents waiting for their kid.

We skipped out early because we had more eating to do.  Which we did. And then we rolled our bloated bodies back to the hotel. 

Where we had dessert.

You get the picture.

The Sugar Daddy is running a half marathon next month so he and his running buddy braved the cold weather to run from our hotel out across the Golden Gate Bridge.  They had a great time and I think it was the highlight of the trip for them.

I slept in which might be the highlight of the trip for me.

San Fran I love ya. But your bitter cold rain this fair weather girl can do without.

Catch you in August?

a ride with god

I'm not sure why my sub-conscience thinks God is a llama.  In my dreams, God is always a llama. And he wears a monocle. Go figure.

Two years ago I had this dream.

Last night I dreamed I was riding an old carnival ride with God the llama.  It was one of those that have individual cars that go in circles and you feel like you are riding a huge protractor.  Our car was glitter lavender with mint pin stripes and red leather seats.  Many of the light bulbs on the ride were broken or missing and it made me worry that the ride was old and unsafe.

When the ride began so did the music.  It was "Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis.

God the llama was sitting with his legs crossed on the outside seat and seemed hardly phased at all by the centrifugal force that was pulling me into him.  My hair whipped around wildly and I kept trying to hold it out of my eyes with one hand and hang on to the car with the other.

He was talking but I couldn't make out his words and I kept saying, "What? I can't hear." And the music was so loud. And the ride was old. And I felt a little desperate.

And then it was if time slowed down and everything was in slow motion and I heard him say clear as day, "I hope you are doing your best my dear.  What a waste it would be if you weren't. A shame."

And then he said, "And don't forget to bring more toilet paper upstairs."

That was it. The whole dream.  Oh, I forgot to tell you I was wearing overalls and Converse sneakers. And now I'm kind of hoping that overalls make a come back because they were really comfortable. I can skip the Converse. They make my feet sweat.

God the llama isn't white like the above photo. He's brown with white spots.  And very fluffy.

So now I'm thinking that I'm not really doing my best. At anything.

But does anyone ever feel like they are doing their best? Strike that. Does any mother ever feel like she is doing her very best at everything?

But I'm going to go ahead and try harder. Because, you know, God said to and all.

image by banana republic

moryfolk

Every so often I look at myself in the mirror and I don't recognize the girl staring back.  You know, I recognize myself.  I know it's me standing there. But there's a little bit of me that sees my face as a strangers face.

It's a very strange and curious feeling, and when it happens I try to hang onto the moment as long as possible so that I can try to see myself as others see me. But it is a fleeting sensation and seldom lasts very long.

A friend once told me that it is a phenomenon called moryfolk. I really wanted to get to the bottom of the whole thing so I called the radio show called "A Way With Words" and I asked them if they knew of this word, moryfolk.  Well, I asked their answering machine.  I have actually called them three times and they have never returned my call.  I think it is because they don't know the answer. Sugar Daddy thinks it's because it just isn't that interesting.

I have Googled the crap out of the word, trying all different spellings and such and I got nothin'.

But here's what I do know: (C.S. Lewis said it perfectly.) You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.

I know I am not my body.  Every time I look in the mirror and see a strange girl staring back, I know this to be true.

I am in here. In this body. Sometimes I wish I had another body, but mostly, I'm just happy that mine is healthy and strong.

Every so often,  Birdie will give me a look and all I can see is her birth mother.  A roll of the eyes or a lazy smile.  And at these moments I get the same strange feeling as when I don't recognize myself.

And I've come to realize something wonderful.

When I look at my children, I see their souls.  I see them for who they really are.

My children have beautiful healthy bodies.  I sincerely wish I could lay claim to Birdie's almond eyes and Frankie's button nose. Alas, those good genes were a gift from another beautiful girl.  I would like to point out, however, that The Boy got my childhood sprinkling of freckles across his nose, which makes him uber cute and irresistible.

No one would argue, (as least not to my face) that my kids aren't gorgeous.

 I love their little bodies.  But their souls, well, they take my breath away.

sharing is for caring

Sharing is a problem in our home right now. Evidently Birdie owns every single item contained within  the walls of our house, plus all yard toys and garden tools.  No one else is to touch or even look longingly at anything that she is using/might be using in the next day or two.  If an item becomes boring, then someone else might be allowed to touch it until that time when it becomes appealing in some way. Then it is hers again. As long as we all abide by these rules no one gets hurt. 

Someone gets hurt every. single. day. That person is almost always Frankie. Poor kid. He needs to grow faster.

It occurred to me that I've been hoarding some of my hand carved stamps. I have a fairly large collection of stamps that I have made over the last few years and for the most part, they just sit in the drawer collecting dust.  Each stamp is one-of-a-kind so I can't very well share the actual stamp with all my readers. 

But I could make digital stamps of my hand carved stamps and share them that way.  So that is what I have been working on lately.

In honor of my little Birdie who hasn't learned to share, I give you "Birds & Bulbs". This is a set of seven photoshop brushes, or stamps as some people call them.  

There will be more sets to follow. Stay tuned.

The set costs $5. The license is for personal use. I will send the file within 24 hours of your purchase.

Birds and Bulbs Brush Set

smooches

Today the Sugar Daddy and I are flying away for a romantic weekend in San Francisco to celebrate Chinese New Year.

We are leaving the rugrats with my mom.  Poor Mom. They are going to eat her for dinner. I just know it.

I keep thinking I wish we were going longer but a) my mom would hate me, and b) I talk a big game but when it comes down to it, I just couldn't be away from my babies for very long.

It's the physicality aspect that gets me.  All day I have a baby on me in some fashion. Little arms around my neck. Slobbery smooches across my face. Little bottoms on my lap. Pudgy hands around my legs as I work in the kitchen.

It's that physical contact that I start to crave.  It's involuntary, like muscle memory.  My lips start to need a fat cheek to kiss. My arms feel empty.  I feel like a crab without a shell.  Naked.

Then again, the Sugar Daddy and I haven't had a romantic weekend day hour to ourselves in a long time.  Maybe I'll be getting all the physical attention I can take.

And I'll leave it at that.

pin it baby

So I'm sure you've heard.  Pinterest is all the rage. And for good reason. 

It's such a simple concept but one that is oh so useful to those of us who gather inspiration like wild flowers, here and there, as we travel the web. Products we want. Ideas we like. People. Places. Things.

A virtual inspiration board. 

I'm addicted. 

Here's a few of my pins over the last little while:

etsy

Lovely Clusters

Talbots

You can follow my Pinterest pins and many others here. 

vintage love

What is it about vintage items that draws us in? Is it the life that has been rubbed into them?  Is it history? Maybe it's nostalgia. 

I love almost anything vintage. I'm partial to old school supplies, Asian art and mid-century dishware.  My current passion are printed table clothes from the 40's and 50's.

Found a couple unique table clothes on Etsy and made them mine.  I loved the look on Sugar Daddy's face when I opened the package. It was his "what in the Sam hell/I'm not even going to ask" face.  I like to keep him baffled a little at all times.  It's like an old card trick.  Keep them watching the busy hand and work your magic with the other.  He'll catch up with me one of these days, but until then my little debit purchases are bringing the sunshine in.

Here's a few more items I've been circling like a hawk. 

Urban Farm Girl & Co.

Only $29

Fossil

Papier Valise

Flour

Sadie Olive

I want to wish a very happy birthday to my mom. The woman who dedicated her life to raising her children. The woman who made dinner every night, careful to keep in mind all the food groups. The woman who cut my sandwiches into hearts on Valentines and died my milk green on St. Patty's.

The woman who gave me my love of crafting.

The woman who is coming on Thursday to watch my children so the Sugar Daddy and I can have a very much needed getaway.

I wish I could come up with a clever and fresh way to say the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world.

But I can't. So I'll just say, Mom, you rock my world.

rerun

Hey hey. Happy V day.

I'm going to do something I have never done before. Rerun a post.

This is why:

I consider this to be one of my most important posts ever.

This is why:

This post is what Amelie's birth family read that made them feel connected to me when they were looking for a family.

I think it was the part about St. Valentine leaving me cash. I'm not sure.

So here is it.

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

Feburary 2009

Amour cliché

Sugar Daddy and I aren't too much with the romance. Never have been. I don't mean to say that we don't try to seduce each other. We do. It's just a little more subtle than average.

For instance, I might say, "You know, you're a real smart ass." And he will respond, "Why thank you. You crafty little minx." Then, well, it's on.

So Valentine's day really isn't our "thing". We might exchange little token gifts, but for the most part, we don't make a big deal about it.

BUT- what I do love about Valentine's Day is the kitchyness. I relish the cheesy cards and the campy store bought goodies. I mean, who doesn't love conversation hearts? Really.

Is Valentine's a Hallmark holiday? Why yes it is! And that's what is so great about it! Elementary school would never have been the same without chintzy little cards made from red doilies and decorated shoebox mailboxes.

Thom and I are all over it, getting ready for the big day. We have all the Valentine's ready to take to school.

The hearts are hung in the window with care, in hopes that St. Valentine will show up and leave a couple hundred bucks on the counter.

The big pink sugar cookies are frosted with almond buttercream and ready to deliver. Scrumdillyumptious!

And the campy handmade Valentines are in the mail to their intended sweetheart.

Here's Cupid himself, lips pursed in concentration, crafting a card for his cousins. Notice the chocolate smears all over his shirt? We needed sustenance while we worked.

This is my mantra for today: Let. Love. Live. However you do it. Don't quash the vibe. If you are fancy pants lovey dovey, do that. If you are simple and sweet like Sugar Daddy and I, put the kids to bed, break out the Netflix and Ben and Jerry's and nestle in.

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

So much has changed since I wrote that post. I now have three little lovies to dote over. We still don't make a big deal about Valentine's. However, we are taking the kids to the zoo today.


Let's all just pray that the spirit of love can last at least until mid-day.