tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-154874732024-03-13T01:04:09.023-04:00Salvage LoveA parenting, restoration, and folk art journal.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-45146663773830070902015-06-08T23:53:00.003-04:002015-06-09T00:05:49.801-04:00Salvage Love Vintage Shop on EtsyI've been adding items to my vintage shop, finally. Slowly. I'm out of practice photographing vintage items, and when I set them up and take photos, it makes me want to keep everything, ha. Like this gorgeous, hand embroidered runner with those big, sexy red flowers...<br />
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<a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/232959367/beautiful-vintage-embroidered-table?ref=shop_home_active_1">Buy it here in my Etsy shop.</a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYPgPq8O0JX1WvQ3DXxMi9KpXhYUhw0EjjnD7mXYDMBs6G9BOME1p2eIfN_EP1pt00s6mplUrrHrZhad_2DqGJPwWfGQFO6OJOH5OF5eSBfeb4vRJ1bCCFOrJLYNqNx4AJQHJ/s1600/table-runner2_bloom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvYPgPq8O0JX1WvQ3DXxMi9KpXhYUhw0EjjnD7mXYDMBs6G9BOME1p2eIfN_EP1pt00s6mplUrrHrZhad_2DqGJPwWfGQFO6OJOH5OF5eSBfeb4vRJ1bCCFOrJLYNqNx4AJQHJ/s640/table-runner2_bloom.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-11498823945500577122012-08-25T11:15:00.000-04:002012-08-25T11:17:29.416-04:00Birthday Bellybutton KittyI crocheted this kitty for my bellybutton-loving daughter for her 2nd birthday. Unable to find the perfect cat pattern, I used one I found online for a stuffed puppy, then searched for other patterns for cat ears and a long tail. If you can crochet rounds, making little stuffed lovies like this one isn't hard, and you probably don't even need a pattern if you can figure out the size of the shapes you want. After that, it's just a matter of stuffing each form, then sewing them all together with your yarn and a large blunt needle. For the eyes, I have a jar full of mismatched vintage buttons that my mom sent with me when I left home, and these black flower buttons in different sizes were perfect. <br />
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farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-5521440865111866822012-02-22T11:30:00.000-05:002012-02-22T11:30:00.883-05:00Crochet Striped Sweater Puppy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was happy to find these photos of the crocheted amigurumi puppy for my nephew, wearing the striped sweater he requested. Here it is with my camera-loving daughter.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-39838392520017405452012-02-21T19:55:00.000-05:002012-02-21T19:55:24.013-05:00OakdaleFarm etsy storeI have always had an empty etsy store, and a couple of months ago, I finally managed to list some items for sale. I sold the two needle felted mushrooms I had available, and have left a needle felted tree stump and some crocheted gourds, pumpkins, and squash. The tree stump has two little red-capped mushrooms and has wool yarn hand felted to the surface for tree bark. I have completed a needle felted cupcake I still need to list, and I really want to make some more mushrooms; they're fun to create and people like them.<br />
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<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/OakdaleFarm" target="_blank">http://www.etsy.com/shop/OakdaleFarm</a><br />
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<div id="fullimage_link1"><a href="http://img3.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.287808831.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Tree Stump with Mushrooms Needle Felted Wool Woodland Decor Fairy House" height="320" src="http://img3.etsystatic.com/il_570xN.287808831.jpg" width="273" /></a><a href="http://img1.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.287838825.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Set of 4 Squash, Gourd, & Pumpkin Crochet Thanksgiving Holiday Play Food Toys" height="320" src="http://img1.etsystatic.com/il_570xN.287838825.jpg" width="236" /></a><div id="fullimage_link1"></div><a href="http://img1.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.287838825.jpg" target="_blank"></a></div> <br />
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My sold mushrooms:<br />
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<div id="fullimage_link1"><a href="http://img2.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.287076690.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;" target="_blank"><img alt="Needle Felted Wool Brown Mushroom & Snail Woodland Decor or Pin Cushion" height="320" src="http://img2.etsystatic.com/il_570xN.287076690.jpg" width="254" /></a><a href="http://img2.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.287162126.jpg" target="_blank"><img alt="Red Cap Mushroom Needle Felted Wool Woodland Decor Pin Cushion" height="320" src="http://img2.etsystatic.com/il_570xN.287162126.jpg" width="230" /> </a><div id="fullimage_link1"></div><a href="http://img2.etsystatic.com/il_fullxfull.287162126.jpg" target="_blank"></a></div><a class="listing-thumb" href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/86507202/tree-stump-with-mushrooms-needle-felted" title="Tree Stump with Mushrooms Needle Felted Wool Woodland Decor Fairy House"> </a><a class="listing-thumb" href="http://www.etsy.com/listing/86584481/set-of-4-squash-gourd-pumpkin-crochet" title="Set of 4 Squash, Gourd, & Pumpkin Crochet Thanksgiving Holiday Play Food Toys"> </a>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-43363166448230138632012-02-21T01:32:00.000-05:002012-02-21T01:32:31.812-05:00Crocheted puppiesI took a crochet class around Thanksgiving and learned how to make a hat and went a little insane with it since then, buying books and teaching myself how to make other things and use other stitches. Here's an amigurumi puppy I made for my son. My nephew wanted one, too, and he asked for a striped sweater on his. I took a photo of it, but I think it might be on my phone...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJT5NwsR5dfeNkp-Lxyivlmvi-9GzHv8A7kG5s_M59nFBlGuNwVQj6ciPyDVUwc_IutvmnoH1s4Zj3nSvMb9yDB5L4sXLmOQZcxP8hwb8z7KCGrLm1jtWO6vy7aGZq0IQSfSs/s1600/amigurumi_puppy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvJT5NwsR5dfeNkp-Lxyivlmvi-9GzHv8A7kG5s_M59nFBlGuNwVQj6ciPyDVUwc_IutvmnoH1s4Zj3nSvMb9yDB5L4sXLmOQZcxP8hwb8z7KCGrLm1jtWO6vy7aGZq0IQSfSs/s320/amigurumi_puppy.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-63447373895888517202012-01-22T02:17:00.000-05:002012-01-22T02:17:54.833-05:00All A Blur....My son's fifth birthday party was today, and as usual, I can't remember much of what I said to anyone. I probably sounded silly and distracted, and I have a habit of stopping mid-sentence and just sort of trailing off. I used to stay awake at night going over everything I said and cringing, but now I realize that I'm not so important that people are obsessing over what I say...I hope.<br />
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I've stayed up too late. Again. I go upstairs to bed, and my husband and son are lying next to each other, in mirror image poses with arms above their heads, which makes me laugh. My husband, still wearing his clothes from the party, and obviously exhausted, doesn't move. My son whispers in his sleep, the only time he's quiet, and moves toward me, laying his head on my hip. As much as it exasperates me during the times I'm busy, I love how my children don't seem to see me as separate from their own bodies, and climb over me, press into me, and rub their lips and faces on my clothing. My son's most precious possession is a black stuffed bear toy made from my favorite sweater that he took from a laundry basket and nuzzled and burrowed into until he put a hole in it. Sometimes, he'll surreptitiously take a shirt I've worn into his room, and I'll find it later in his bed. <br />
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Now, at the start of his sixth year, he is balancing his adoration with separation. He sometimes covers his body with his hands, and no longer wants or needs my help in the bathroom. When he cried last week, he told me he wanted to be alone. I look at him, his sweet face asleep, and I sit up, leaning forward to more easily type, and he makes a soft kitten noise, moves with me and presses his cheek against my back, eyes closed and still dreaming. I know it won't last, and it shouldn't, I want him to push away from me and grow and be strong and have adventures and everything else a mother wants for her son, but just for right now, instead of carrying him to his bed, I'm going to hold my son tightly and sleep.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-76945768944264968032011-07-06T00:18:00.001-04:002011-12-01T23:58:13.321-05:00Naked Lunch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjY_ZnagB6-87HSC3BWSFqBNZ2syxnTyGieTgySdqPBWsTxDQQ6o6qwmALbOkdSq3952hKaUObaVdoe6yiYIF9ESGxKPSzwRq2zV50mIwmBSaLQBG0DpcFYFPJ34QaJaAMsuv/s1600/kitchen_sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjY_ZnagB6-87HSC3BWSFqBNZ2syxnTyGieTgySdqPBWsTxDQQ6o6qwmALbOkdSq3952hKaUObaVdoe6yiYIF9ESGxKPSzwRq2zV50mIwmBSaLQBG0DpcFYFPJ34QaJaAMsuv/s640/kitchen_sign.jpg" width="504" /></a></div>I haven't been this excited about doing something in our home in a long time! After the birth of our daughter last March, renovations have slowed to a crawl. We have the kitchen mostly completed, but there are the little things that get left until the end and sometimes never get done, especially when you have a husband who really doesn't mind minor things, like mismatched light switches and gaps in the trim. Five years ago or so, my brother found an amazing set of vintage diner signs for sale on the side of the road and bought them. I was living in Miami at the time, but I made him promise to save me the other half of the "Lunch" sign; I would find some way to get it, I vowed. He now has his own sign hanging in his family room; these are like our version of two halves of a "BFF" necklace.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDqMLYNXdJnE7CJjpBCJ3b4vb1FohlMvaQzUF6wE-ql56D-3NZh0x5gCEhlL51D1DM3H-TPgfxyqF0OhhLeYTfLlBxRwOSbpUiw1b4o8DcbtGBxuoVEWT2dHX9rUIbp_yM9ZZ/s1600/kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDqMLYNXdJnE7CJjpBCJ3b4vb1FohlMvaQzUF6wE-ql56D-3NZh0x5gCEhlL51D1DM3H-TPgfxyqF0OhhLeYTfLlBxRwOSbpUiw1b4o8DcbtGBxuoVEWT2dHX9rUIbp_yM9ZZ/s320/kitchen.jpg" width="320" /></a>Fast forward a few years, and we're now living in an old farmhouse in Michigan, with the Lunch sign stored in our barn. My husband claimed he didn't like it, but I suspected that it was more that he was overwhelmed by how we would hang such a large, heavy sign. In my former life, I worked for an art services company that, among many things, hung artwork for museums, galleries, etc., and one of my favorite tricks is hanging heavy things with a cleat. You cut a piece of board to fit behind the object, screw it into the studs, then hang your objet d'art from the board. In this case, we cut a piece of 1x4 oak that we had in the barn, then screwed the sign directly to it through some holes that were already in the sign. It looks like it was originally lit by roping a strand of lights around each letter with some broken clamps that I removed when I was cleaning the sign. I love the idea of adding lights back to it someday, and using it as a nightlight for the kitchen.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-27047012194609751532011-06-08T23:29:00.001-04:002015-06-09T00:50:30.357-04:00The Fragrance of PeoniesUp until this summer, I have been hesitant to cut flowers to bring into the house. Part of the reason was that I didn't know how long the blooms would last in a vase, and another part of me felt that flowers should be left outside to grow. This year, I realized that we have an abundance of flowers, and clipping a few really wouldn't do any harm. Earlier this summer, I cut some sprigs of lilac and loved how our home filled with the sweet fragrance. We also had a few hydrangea branches that were almost as short-lived as the lilacs, and pretty, but no scent. Tonight, I risked being devoured by mosquitoes to cut an armful of peonies before several days of predicted storms, which ruined our peonies last year. When I first walked into the house with them, I dumped them in our farmhouse sink, and loved the way they looked, spilling over the edge.<br />
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<span id="goog_1122107351"></span><span id="goog_1122107352"></span>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-10174655057631474102011-05-03T00:27:00.000-04:002011-05-03T00:27:36.382-04:00Those annoying people who think their kids are so cute...Yes, I am one of them. And I can't help laughing every time that my four-year-old son says that he "bomb-ed it" when he means that he "vomited". Maybe it's just that it's so rare now that he gets something wrong - gone are the days when he pronounced "sandwich" as "flatherch", said apples as "appoos", and called our dog Good Girl, because he thought that was her name. He used to say that the moon must love him, because it followed him wherever we went. Once he told me that the crescent moon must be really hungry, because it was so thin now. It was months later that I made the connection: a full moon and a hungry moon. <br />
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Now, he knows the truth about so many things that I wish he didn't. He tells me things that make me angry and break my heart and make me despair that I am an inadequate parent. He asks for toys and video games and candy and ice cream and soda and all of those things that I have to remember I longed for, too. He refuses to wear the expensive clothes and shoes that I buy him, things that my own parents could never afford, claiming that they're too tight or too loose, too long or too short. He tells me that he wishes I would leave our family, then cries when I go into the bathroom and he thinks I've gone. He tells me that he is a frog, then a baby cow, then a king, then a dinosaur, and when I find him asleep in his bed, he has wrapped one of my sweaters around himself, the arms of it encircling his tiny body like a phantom hug.<br />
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...farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-45991352370148552222011-04-25T23:19:00.001-04:002011-06-17T01:52:06.636-04:00Happy Birthday, JeffreyIt's been a few years now, and I suppose it's finally sinking in that you will not somehow reappear or just call me to talk, and that I will not miss you less and my heart will not stop breaking each time I think of you. I wasn't sure if I wanted to write about you this year, because sometimes it's easier to avoid the memories. Still...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_8W3c05NwoGYWCKg1p0UT4-YMH3SfKYPGh4809gOqr0wHy75Biy92eQV61fo62Fol3dbXETY7sGOk-IUN54yrctIXJIQldAOfP0qvo6-Gs_GV1ZEqklstpyEEIt_WyP3ePC5/s1600/jeffrey_kate_wedding2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS_8W3c05NwoGYWCKg1p0UT4-YMH3SfKYPGh4809gOqr0wHy75Biy92eQV61fo62Fol3dbXETY7sGOk-IUN54yrctIXJIQldAOfP0qvo6-Gs_GV1ZEqklstpyEEIt_WyP3ePC5/s320/jeffrey_kate_wedding2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>When my husband and I were married in Greece, you told me that of course you'd be there. By then, you had moved to New York, and we'd gone from seeing each other every day to weekly phone calls. When we arrived in Chios, I didn't hear anything from you, and you hadn't booked a flight, so I assumed you weren't coming. My parents and Janelle were staying in Karfas, and as we walked to the taverna to meet everyone for dinner (my mom and Janelle giggling the whole way, keeping you a surprise), there you were, looking like you'd planned this all along. Which, of course, you hadn't. You went to a travel agent in Manhattan on Monday, got a lower price for your ticket than any of us, ran home to pack your bags, and went to the airport on Monday afternoon for your flight. You had no idea where you were going, only that you needed to get to the island of Chios, got a taxi at the airport, and when the driver somehow took you to the area of Karfas Beach, you saw my mother and shouted her name. Then you got a little room with a sea view across the street from where my parents were staying. The matronly proprietress adored you and was washing your clothes for you and inviting you to dinner with her family. That night at dinner, we held hands and fawned over each other, and I saw George's dad looking at us with narrowed eyes, until he came to the likely conclusion and relaxed and smiled at you. We talked about reading "The Dogs of Babel" and quoted "I remember my wife in white" to each other. It's bittersweet to think of that now. We and the dear friends who had also made the long trip across the ocean, spent a day on scooters in the fortress village of Pyrgi, where we dreamed about owning one of the crumbly little houses, and then at my favorite beach, sunbathing on black lava rocks and wading in the breathtaking blue of the Aegean Sea. On my wedding day, I asked our florist for wildflowers and lilies, and you commiserated with me when my bouquet was a ball of roses and I cried in the melodramatic way that brides do.<br />
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Only Jeffrey, I thought. Only you would arrive with elan on an island in a country to which you'd never been, with no names, addresses or phone numbers. Only you would book a flight for a song at the last moment, find my mother within minutes of landing, get the best room at the best rate, and on a whim, continue on to other islands. Only you, in that selfless way you were famous for, would replace my wedding bouquet with an armful of achingly beautiful lilies that we put in my honeymoon suite and reminded me of how much you loved me. <br />
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Only you.<br />
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...farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-9245809821327893442010-11-28T01:31:00.001-05:002010-11-28T01:33:30.798-05:00Proud to be a part of Indie Craft Month at Rebel Reclaimed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEImnn_Sx4zd8CJHglmJOdB6JKDEfPi1d5QrJ0iuwzW46EA1Daj8p5oiYDXg1IHmGIIl7YP73iO8jmieI8TuCrOETTJZzvj8FHkdpeVNL1AIpwU4D9K6ms9PkWiOrIi-4OdG_R/s1600/felted_stump7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEImnn_Sx4zd8CJHglmJOdB6JKDEfPi1d5QrJ0iuwzW46EA1Daj8p5oiYDXg1IHmGIIl7YP73iO8jmieI8TuCrOETTJZzvj8FHkdpeVNL1AIpwU4D9K6ms9PkWiOrIi-4OdG_R/s320/felted_stump7.jpg" width="192" /></a></div> I am super happy to have my needle felted work featured at the fantastic and amazing shop, Rebel Reclaimed, at 926 E Fulton St in Grand Rapids. If you're looking for the perfect, one-of-a-kind gift or something special for yourself, this is definitely the place to go. My husband and I are painstakingly working on our kitchen, bit by bit, using shades of aqua and persimmon. When I stopped in Rebel Reclaimed, the proprietor, Dann, had a wooden pedestal made of found wood pieces, topped with a glass cloche, that was just perfect, in the exact hues we're using in our kitchen. Here it is with a tree stump pin cushion I made for the Indie Craft Month event at Rebel Reclaimed that's going on right now.<br />
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I find something I adore every time I stop in - there are handmade folk art pieces, restored vintage finds, and repurposed and redesigned objects that make my heart beat faster. ;)<br />
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<a href="http://rebelreclaimed.com/">Rebel Reclaimed</a>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-53300352919877532992010-09-18T01:01:00.002-04:002010-10-29T01:38:15.475-04:00Little Wicker Rocking Chair<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdTE89rMPcKNX27KkE7iV_sT1BcnMKRz8t0cjE6dPbbtSbCkoY6Y5unft4hM2XKIzJuXZaQB3wMgBcFKgs0EY51IpmMk1xl4BffU5sDHllEPBjoxEUVva6SwGqB_uUp-C3wd5/s1600/rocking_chair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqdTE89rMPcKNX27KkE7iV_sT1BcnMKRz8t0cjE6dPbbtSbCkoY6Y5unft4hM2XKIzJuXZaQB3wMgBcFKgs0EY51IpmMk1xl4BffU5sDHllEPBjoxEUVva6SwGqB_uUp-C3wd5/s400/rocking_chair.jpg" width="297" /></a></div>Since the last photos of <a href="http://salvagelove.blogspot.com/2010_03_01_archive.html">the nursery</a> were taken, I've replaced the little brown rocker with a gift from my mother: a vintage rocking chair in yellow wicker with a patchwork pillow seat. When I was a girl, I had a brown wicker rocker with a patchwork seat that I loved, but it disappeared somehow. They will neither confirm nor deny it, but I strongly suspect that my dad and brother thought the raggedy little thing was junk and burned it in one of their garage-purging sessions, so this gift was an especially sweet gesture from Mom. Here it is in my baby girl's room with an owl-print blanket I made (more on that in another post).farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-40369948099817133392010-06-23T02:11:00.000-04:002010-06-23T02:11:17.836-04:00It Just Comes Naturally NowThough for most of my adult life I wasn't sure I even wanted to be a mother, save for a short time in my early twenties, which my husband (then-fiancé) salved with a tiny pitbull puppy I named Ava. Parenthood seemed so unglamourous, and for the most part, it is. Tonight, I walk through our creaking old farmhouse and glance in a bubbly mirror as I pass by and see myself with an infant on my hip, my face looking content and comfortable, and I am glad that I went for it, happy that we've been so fortunate, and constantly amazed that something so commonplace is extraordinary to me.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-51744159376533981482010-06-16T01:53:00.000-04:002010-06-16T01:53:21.256-04:00At 2:00 am...She's sleeping, with her lips pursed just the way I did when I was tiny. I pick her up and she arches her back, stretching. Her hair stands straight out from the back of her head in little wisps that make my chest ache. I think of her brother, when he would finish nursing with a startled, scrunched face and disheveled hair, looking like vintage Jack Nicholson. That old joke about how we begin and end life in diapers. Reminders of mortality in small moments. I think maybe this is something like how she will look when she is old, and I realize with a pang that I won't live to see that. I hope whoever does will<br />
see just how beautiful she is.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-18092864245890048742010-06-16T01:37:00.000-04:002010-06-16T01:37:15.292-04:00Things That Make Me Happy1. A smiling baby face 2 inches from my own when I wake in the morning.<br />
2. A little boy flexing his muscles in an inflatable pool.<br />
3. My husband making woo-hoo noises at me when I change into my pajamas. <br />
4. Raw cookie dough.<br />
5. Reading a new book late at night.<br />
6. Rereading an old book and being surprised by things I've forgotten. <br />
7. Looking for treasures in a thrift shop.<br />
8. People who laugh loudly and without inhibition.<br />
9. The scent of lilacs. <br />
10. Donating money to the causes that are most important to me.<br />
11. Dreaming about realistic goals, such as owning a small, crumbly house in my favorite village in Greece.<br />
12. Dreaming unrealistically, such as playing Penelope Cruz's role in "Nine".<br />
13. Sleeping late.<br />
14. Buying apple butter from a roadside stand at an Amish farm.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-38670743197121934942010-06-14T00:41:00.002-04:002010-06-14T00:41:51.131-04:00Spring Reading List Recap<ul><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Quincunx-Charles-Palliser/dp/0345371135/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1275455588&sr=8-1" target="_new">The Quincunx by Charles Palliser</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dogs-Babel-Novel-Carolyn-Parkhurst/dp/B000FDFWGO/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1274762533&sr=8-1" target="_new">The Dogs of Babel by Carolyn Parkhurst (reread)</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mystic-River-Dennis-Lehane/dp/0553816160/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1271391025&sr=8-3" target="_new">Mystic River by Dennis Lehane</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bellefleur-Joyce-Carol-Oates/dp/0452267943/ref=tmm_pap_title_0" target="_new">Bellefleur by Joyce Carol Oates</a></li>
<li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Falling-Angels-Tracy-Chevalier/dp/0452283205/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1270959892&sr=8-4" target="_new">Falling Angels by Tracy Chevalier (reread)</a></li>
</ul>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-40513677959630099902010-06-02T01:23:00.000-04:002010-06-02T01:23:22.079-04:00Things My Son Has Said (And I Found Amusing)1. Mama, you are splendid.<br />
2. You're a genius, Mom! (in response to a very minor fix to one of his toys)<br />
3. Mom, when the baby goes back in your belly, we can go for a bike ride.<br />
4. Jackson and I both drink dog water.farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-36397342232898288972010-04-25T10:55:00.002-04:002010-04-25T22:48:04.403-04:00Happy Birthday, Jeffrey DDo you remember how we used to walk our pitbulls down the sidewalk and terrorize the unnecessary bouncers at that pretentious bar, Grass? You called it "Ass". You were always so indignant about pretension, and would travel coach with your Louis Vuitton bags. I loved that about you. I also loved how you would wear a pair of white jeans and let them drag in the dirt and not worry about keeping them immaculate. I emulate you in these ways, so as not to take myself so seriously. You could be extremely self-conscious, but you taught me how to laugh at so many things, without being cruel. We would go to a nice sushi restaurant in our paint-covered clothes and dried sweat and sit outside and drink margaritas for you and Thai iced teas for me. You taught me how to eat edamame and laughed your teeth out when I first picked up one of the pods you had already emptied and put it in my mouth. We shopped at Saks in leather flip-flops and cut-off jeans and spent hours in Target, perusing every aisle. We bought old houses a few blocks away from each other in a gritty neighborhood in Miami and prided ourselves on living there and loving it just as it was. I just read in Elle Decor that there is now a Christian Louboutin store a few blocks away from where we lived, and it crushes my heart that I can't call you and tell you that so we can cackle over our prescience. We fought like mad and just as quickly let things go, like children do. You were my best friend, my brother, and my sister. Once you told me that in a past life, you were an aristocrat, and I was your servant, which infuriated me then, and makes me laugh now. I called you "Princess" to get under your skin, then I noticed you changed your ebay ID to "honkytonkprincess", and I realized you secretly loved it.<br /><br />You met my son once, and I'm so thankful for that. I always thought my children would grow up with you in their lives, and it breaks my heart that they will miss out on knowing such an amazing person and such an incredible heart. When I point to you in a photograph, my son calls you "Mommy's Jeffrey". I took for granted that you would always be in my life, because I knew that our love was so big, that nothing we could say or do would ever be bigger than that. For months after you died, I felt you in my baby's bedroom at night, and I kept telling you not to appear in the dark or you would scare me to death, but I never saw you at night or in the daylight. Sometimes, when I was driving on a sunny day and a Prince song was playing, you were in the passenger seat with me. You went a lot of places with me the summer after you died. I saw you in my dreams and even in those dreams, we both knew you were gone from this world. I don't see you or feel you as often any more, and I hope that means that you were able to move on, and that you and Petunia are walking together somewhere beautiful. I hope Petunia has lots of seagulls to chase and you have designer shoes to wear, and I hope you know how madly you were adored by me and by everyone else who thought of you as their one, true, soulmate friend. I will never stop missing you and I will never stop loving you, Jeffrey.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPr2K7vDLjIW2YPyziuvNtkP2TxTaRtrLkafDchE9WZfDOVQshkk8Qgt8VtQjdqKKduOYnKNmaDILzlxUbYmlAHEzEOnomCKOJh1homURvr12zzmviypM_7gJYUSuiTfyyyBk/s1600/greece.2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUPr2K7vDLjIW2YPyziuvNtkP2TxTaRtrLkafDchE9WZfDOVQshkk8Qgt8VtQjdqKKduOYnKNmaDILzlxUbYmlAHEzEOnomCKOJh1homURvr12zzmviypM_7gJYUSuiTfyyyBk/s400/greece.2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463949998566320162" border="0" /></a>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-25741063096434472672010-04-11T00:29:00.004-04:002015-06-09T01:01:34.245-04:00The Stuff That Dreams Are Made OfToday was one of those magical days, where everything is ordinary but seems so special. From the morning spent in bed with my husband, my son, and my baby, giggling and wrestling and playing "monster under the covers", to finding my husband and son asleep in the rocking chair upstairs, a Curious George book open on their laps. The baby shared the first smiles of her life with us today. My son and I walked outside in the sun, searching for frogs in our small pond, and counted the seven goldfish and one koi in the larger fountain, while baby sister napped in my arms. We ate spinach & feta pizza and chicken wings and licked homemade barbeque sauce from our fingers. My son wore his first ever red koolaid moustache. My husband and son built train tracks on the floor, while the baby laughed out loud in her sleep. Tonight, we visited our neighbors in the evening and walked back in the dark along the gravel road, with a flashlight to guide us home.<br />
<br />
....farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-70605699141037902042010-04-11T00:23:00.000-04:002010-04-11T00:24:02.801-04:00Winter Reading List<ul><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Shutter-Island-Dennis-Lehane/dp/0061703257/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1269839483&sr=8-1" target="_new">Shutter Island by Dennis Lehane</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bride-Stripped-Bare-Novel-P-S/dp/0060591889/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1268363546&sr=8-1" target="_new">The Bride Stripped Bare by Nikki Gemmell (reread)</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Guilty-Pleasures-Anita-Vampire-Hunter/dp/051513449X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1267311743&sr=8-1" target="_new">Guilty Pleasures by Laurell K. Hamilton</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Accidental-Tourist-Ballantine-Readers-Circle/dp/0345452003/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1266545504&sr=8-2" target="_new">The Accidental Tourist by Anne Tyler</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Rabbit-Run-John-Updike/dp/0449911659/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1263326146&sr=8-1" target="_new">Rabbit, Run by John Updike</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0307276732/ref=oss_T15_product" target="_new">Dexter In the Dark by Jeff Lindsay</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400095921/ref=oss_T15_product" target="_new">Dearly Devoted Dexter by Jeff Lindsay</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1400078776/ref=oss_T15_product" target="_new">Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Road-Movie-Tie-Vintage-International/dp/0307476308/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261968937&sr=1-1" target="_new">The Road by Cormac McCarthy</a></li><li><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Box-Uncanny-Stories-Richard-Matheson/dp/0765361434/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1261969338&sr=1-3" target="_new">The Box: Uncanny Stories by Richard Matheson</a></li></ul>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-49272190601757052132010-03-10T22:47:00.010-05:002010-03-11T13:37:25.086-05:00In the PinkI had about 2 weeks notice that we needed to change our <a href="http://salvagelove.blogspot.com/2009/06/nursery-before-and-after.html">nursery</a> from blue to pink. At first, I was thrilled, and then I panicked. I chose the pear green paint color because I knew it would be fine for both genders, but I had always planned on having months to make the changes from blue and boyish themes to pink and more feminine details, if it worked out that way. However, our baby girl kept curling her legs under and didn't want it known until the last possible minute that she would be needing a nursery makeover.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeG0T1C7-d6iC_33Oqi5F2rfOdjZATJtjItG5z8FGqwCJ23moAsk08CknCTmgtPixM884Mm80fWgbyeK9mTU4JrTsizUNMyIIjw22r-cR53-_M4QGmgP-zkYQpgWeF15DSCC3G/s1600-h/nursery.4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeG0T1C7-d6iC_33Oqi5F2rfOdjZATJtjItG5z8FGqwCJ23moAsk08CknCTmgtPixM884Mm80fWgbyeK9mTU4JrTsizUNMyIIjw22r-cR53-_M4QGmgP-zkYQpgWeF15DSCC3G/s400/nursery.4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447221851788068130" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7S_WQtReOpgbU_CN73j8CRNnQygCV_c82zn4YsgilN0BWQnVNDiIhszRBgprOvvm_wE87b8Vz-TNHW2AXISnXgOhU-eQLb0o-gqojNFHTTaaaLMdS_3sSGRLFwhyphenhyphenw3suDahgw/s1600-h/nursery.3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7S_WQtReOpgbU_CN73j8CRNnQygCV_c82zn4YsgilN0BWQnVNDiIhszRBgprOvvm_wE87b8Vz-TNHW2AXISnXgOhU-eQLb0o-gqojNFHTTaaaLMdS_3sSGRLFwhyphenhyphenw3suDahgw/s400/nursery.3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447233288415439570" border="0" /></a> Luckily, I am (more than) a bit mad, and have been stockpiling those "just in case" girl items for years, so I had a Dwell for Target bedding set in "Farm Girl" with all of the accessories (bought super-cheap on clearance, of course), some wall decals that I picked up because I thought they were cute, the birdie mobile, and the little mushroom nightlight. My husband spray-painted the wooden number/letter set on the wall by the rocker, and I found the hatbox set and lampshade on Land of Nod's website. My mother gave me the vintage milk glass lamp years ago; I've been storing it, waiting for the perfect place to use it in this house. I also found a pink and white tole chandelier for $20, but my photos of that didn't turn out well, so I have to wait for another sunny day and try again.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofN-a0ByZ24mas1SXn8y6VygJzVbRCR00G5Q_nz4MDg3Y-HDZ5C7g20JniCyE3obrZCxZKGY5nOIEQCqx1D9Atq_jegJ0QBEywe13YSGd4oodSV-Yn18yrncpokAHUGmRtI1u/s1600-h/nursery_girl2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 270px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgofN-a0ByZ24mas1SXn8y6VygJzVbRCR00G5Q_nz4MDg3Y-HDZ5C7g20JniCyE3obrZCxZKGY5nOIEQCqx1D9Atq_jegJ0QBEywe13YSGd4oodSV-Yn18yrncpokAHUGmRtI1u/s400/nursery_girl2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447238974561393762" border="0" /></a>For the curtains, I found exactly what I wanted at Pottery Barn in pink velvet. The nursery is in the northwest corner of our drafty old farmhouse and can get really chilly without heavy drapes, so I like to use velvet or lined silk in the bedrooms. I told one of my childhood friends the cost for all three windows, and she shamed me into making them myself with candy-pink velvet I purchased on eBay, for a savings of more than $150.00. Once I got going, they really weren't difficult to make, and I finished all three panels in a few hours. I think the color is actually prettier than the PB ones, and the fabric is a nice, heavy cotton velvet, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqZFpK9AhZNn6YOpDulYBK68t6Ude8s7Z5k5qbYojbFuOwPyZewt4cnYaC1tWAU93hz8Z_ZUgWyP5EQtwJbi0-Dma2FkTpWXtoi1FkYoumpRiFjiYkpdFqtV8KgMOaQXQMObO/s1600-h/nursery_girl4.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 277px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMqZFpK9AhZNn6YOpDulYBK68t6Ude8s7Z5k5qbYojbFuOwPyZewt4cnYaC1tWAU93hz8Z_ZUgWyP5EQtwJbi0-Dma2FkTpWXtoi1FkYoumpRiFjiYkpdFqtV8KgMOaQXQMObO/s400/nursery_girl4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447246962239225346" border="0" /></a>We moved the Mary Blair "Small World" tapestry that was above the changing table to my son's bedroom, and replaced it with the decals. I also have plans to needlefelt some little birds and make a sort of mobile above it.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxX0NnQfUcaEPr5igRyRErSXJwg_LSJXMRJhHt1r-FXJXTgbLDBNXWa6PCsCxs8gt_MnrQKsWedqyghnPTW_j92_VFyQL8DVIjVvnLV5na_9Hb1kRDeRSLSkteXFF5nlP_Dud/s1600-h/nursery_girl3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 248px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfxX0NnQfUcaEPr5igRyRErSXJwg_LSJXMRJhHt1r-FXJXTgbLDBNXWa6PCsCxs8gt_MnrQKsWedqyghnPTW_j92_VFyQL8DVIjVvnLV5na_9Hb1kRDeRSLSkteXFF5nlP_Dud/s400/nursery_girl3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447239584416876914" border="0" /></a>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-33833860622686549302010-02-27T21:19:00.016-05:002010-02-28T23:06:57.240-05:00Not So Out of This World<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEf5BLf5Sf_cbx2olzv_ZTBM7h9vquB0iK7BbaYScGKi3a5AO5G30hgAK7w3rj2X65KU9WrtEdBEYcZkGsV09GiwwqskOS4Uz2KvHeWQEwH7Ztq-XvQS7AIVKnUaubRj59LUrS/s1600-h/quilt_space2.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 262px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEf5BLf5Sf_cbx2olzv_ZTBM7h9vquB0iK7BbaYScGKi3a5AO5G30hgAK7w3rj2X65KU9WrtEdBEYcZkGsV09GiwwqskOS4Uz2KvHeWQEwH7Ztq-XvQS7AIVKnUaubRj59LUrS/s400/quilt_space2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443509572400878594" border="0" /></a>It took more than two months, but I completed the quilt I've been working on for my son, and I was so excited to give it to him. While I was sewing, he would ask, "<a href="http://salvagelove.blogspot.com/2010/01/rotary-cutting-rocks.html">It's a special blanket for ME?!?</a>", so I thought he was going to love it. While he was at preschool, I went into his room and made up the bed with his new quilt, then told him I had a surprise for him when we got home. He ran up the stairs and into his room, filled with excitement, then stopped and said, "Um, I don't really like quilts, Mom."<br /><br />Sigh.<br /><br /><br />So, for the last week, he's been making nests out of his old baby blankets and throwing my quilt off of his bed. Then, after putting my son to sleep tonight, my husband came down the stairs and told me that he said, "I'm cold - I want my quilt, Dad!" Maybe all of those late nights and pricked fingers weren't a huge waste of time after all...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiXjH_pkaueA65Wej3gpeqsXNhVGegC7Zj5edmvARczt5YN7oquGvxSWUY-L_WP0NUfYdnTuaH3IQojKRLcIvPxEw1Fb46bton51TJ3Ox39iH-_C78V6jUyWxyS8_3GPuWcv-/s1600-h/kostas_quilt.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiXjH_pkaueA65Wej3gpeqsXNhVGegC7Zj5edmvARczt5YN7oquGvxSWUY-L_WP0NUfYdnTuaH3IQojKRLcIvPxEw1Fb46bton51TJ3Ox39iH-_C78V6jUyWxyS8_3GPuWcv-/s400/kostas_quilt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443510778117842290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />If you're looking for modern or whimsical fabrics, I highly recommend <a href="http://www.fabricworm.com/">Fabricworm</a>. I shopped from <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/fabricworm">Etsy</a>, but they have a separate website, too. Cynthia & Andrea are super helpful, answer and ship quickly, and Cynthia helped me immensely with the fabrics for this quilt, even putting together and taking pics of the ones I liked, so I could see how they looked before I bought everything. It's difficult for me to see separate pages of fabrics and visualize how they'll look assembled, so I can't thank Cynthia enough for that.<br /><br />Here's a close-up of the fabric and the borders and binding I added. I started with a pattern for a lap quilt, and used that for the basic layout with the double border and changed the dimensions to make it a twin. I also bought a book, <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Complete-Quilting-Better-Gardens-Crafts/dp/0696218569/ref=sr_1_6?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1267333788&sr=1-6">Better Homes & Gardens Complete Guide to Quilting</a>, that had detailed instructions for rotary cutting the squares and the border/binding strips, how to attach the binding, etc. which was very useful, since I had just been winging it before. I'm still not very precise, and I can't sew a straight line to save my life, but luckily, I like things to look handmade.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAygHBMu8uLPrtS3m4CVaeT7dk-_MDq-G3Ktaw0IZXakzqcOFa0r3wIB-BZrLMbL-Jo1XCpJFJT-ve6vjOk1OseP7-BYbwdOnUPzXpupZYmCjfDcV4FyTZY3iFeCnT-AY-aiE7/s1600-h/quilt_space4.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAygHBMu8uLPrtS3m4CVaeT7dk-_MDq-G3Ktaw0IZXakzqcOFa0r3wIB-BZrLMbL-Jo1XCpJFJT-ve6vjOk1OseP7-BYbwdOnUPzXpupZYmCjfDcV4FyTZY3iFeCnT-AY-aiE7/s320/quilt_space4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443511658530336770" border="0" /></a>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-43817111995282372452010-02-18T20:55:00.005-05:002010-02-18T21:04:23.407-05:00Sweets For My Sweet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0dvMzk6lBSC3vXJ8Dl94Addzc_X1Tw-7ubTbZWrOcWIUFqiIVfplkvzr1qPK6KZwBssma8TrgSyr1wGy3oDcSFeerETVsO7Gl64ntUJfKrmRL3pqHRIgSNF7jUuAJxcgkDAN/s1600-h/felted_sugarcookies.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ0dvMzk6lBSC3vXJ8Dl94Addzc_X1Tw-7ubTbZWrOcWIUFqiIVfplkvzr1qPK6KZwBssma8TrgSyr1wGy3oDcSFeerETVsO7Gl64ntUJfKrmRL3pqHRIgSNF7jUuAJxcgkDAN/s320/felted_sugarcookies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439768328785538034" border="0" /></a><br />I finished the felted sugar cookies shortly after I made the oatmeal cookies and am just now getting around to posting the pics. These are really simple to make with a round cookie cutter, some natural, undyed wool, and a few candy colors for frosting. I use a multi-needle tool to make the initial cookie shape quickly, then finish with single needles.<br /><br />After "eating" all of his <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttv_T9TurY5JIJOHl3JIeJ3ndqqfYEypOuQcZK0UYTMI8jK55XFKe-uw8CP2F6RATGUPIBD0No18lyXWxvnvasK3OAkEoZiC7m96Ef5IizzsUnTwhFmFTa-GwWIo1nrbsQ9gl/s1600-h/kostas_cookies6.jpg"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhttv_T9TurY5JIJOHl3JIeJ3ndqqfYEypOuQcZK0UYTMI8jK55XFKe-uw8CP2F6RATGUPIBD0No18lyXWxvnvasK3OAkEoZiC7m96Ef5IizzsUnTwhFmFTa-GwWIo1nrbsQ9gl/s200/kostas_cookies6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5439769357401056738" border="0" /></a>cookies, my son said he was very thirsty...farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-18163638879566998632010-02-06T22:35:00.005-05:002010-02-06T22:52:50.987-05:00Tea Party<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4c_fP8LYB0lpEVwl9KhKqTBBJgpuXltss6qoFC6T0kEZS4DgL-bqVAdUAMPR6KO0bGVcSoUi9z27FW-bWdYWJv_hghpGGy2siEe-dzb9ZM0TSiDpTlV_E8Bxv_NIwt5WWMYQ/s1600-h/felted_oatmeal_cookies2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX4c_fP8LYB0lpEVwl9KhKqTBBJgpuXltss6qoFC6T0kEZS4DgL-bqVAdUAMPR6KO0bGVcSoUi9z27FW-bWdYWJv_hghpGGy2siEe-dzb9ZM0TSiDpTlV_E8Bxv_NIwt5WWMYQ/s200/felted_oatmeal_cookies2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435342897210112866" border="0" /></a>While cooking at his wooden kitchen playset, my son asked me where were his cookies. I've been meaning to needle felt him a few cookies for months (and months!), so I felt a twinge of guilt, then put them on my mental "projects list". Nevermind that my husband says I don't need any more projects, since I'm currently sewing a quilt, needle-felting a doll, and working at my Stella & Dot jewelry business, all while renovating our kitchen. I like it this way, I tell him.<br /><br />So, one night, I felted two oatmeal raisin cookies, though the husband (he has quite a few opinions, doesn't he?) said they looked like chocolate chip. I don't like chocolate chip, so I say they're oatmeal raisin, though I can see how they could be either. In the morning, my son was thrilled, and decided to have a tea party with the cookies. Since his main interests are cars, <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgN7Pq0l27HxWc6CfUygf0ODCwAIOoDcQFYAfuuEdJNqDyWW6IOZ5AGN4DYGd83iU3OlTP4OsPTrCexlgoacc_Qdfau3tRA5gSRNODDaW6odWRGFpiP7gGOtoeyuyy5-N5ALM/s1600-h/felted_oatmeal_cookies4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 228px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkgN7Pq0l27HxWc6CfUygf0ODCwAIOoDcQFYAfuuEdJNqDyWW6IOZ5AGN4DYGd83iU3OlTP4OsPTrCexlgoacc_Qdfau3tRA5gSRNODDaW6odWRGFpiP7gGOtoeyuyy5-N5ALM/s320/felted_oatmeal_cookies4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435344050056832482" border="0" /></a>trains, machines, and demolition, I was pretty pleased that he was so excited and took literally 54 photos of him playing. Sadly, uploading those pics is still on that mental "projects list", so I'll have to post those later...farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15487473.post-27630982775071310892010-02-03T19:57:00.005-05:002010-02-27T18:00:06.316-05:00In Another Life<span style="font-family:georgia;">Lately, my three-year-old son has started saying to me, "You're my best mommy ever!" Tonight, I asked, "Exactly how many mommies have you had?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Two," he replied. </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Who was your first mommy?" </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"It was you!" </span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"So I wasn't that great the first time around?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Yes, you was!" he laughed.</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"But I'm better at it this time?"</span><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">"Yes!"</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:georgia;">I just love the idea of lifetimes of being this happy, trying to get it right with this kid, and each time, being his "best mommy ever".<br /><br /><br />...<br /></span>farm-o-ramahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07527361344451052073noreply@blogger.com0