double plus good..

what's better than discovering a pattern you've lusted in your heart for for over half a decade exists?

well, i'll tell you...buying the $16.95 pattern for one single, solitary dollar.

priceless.

just wrong...

don't ya think?

discovered last saturday in illinois on a sojourn to the drive-in. a wonderful day that started with a late lunch at a st. louis landmark, crown candy kitchen (mmm, chocolate banana malt!), a trip antiquing and vintage clothing shopping (kelly found a pale pink super beaded cardigan in perfect condition and talked ME into buying it!), and then we found an illinois goodwill store that had old albums we had never pawed through and episodes of lost in space on VHS. who could ask for more?

oh, and last night? kelly took me to joe's cafe (bill cristman's studio) that is only open on thursday nights. i don't think there are words to describe this place. imagine a surreal dream of neon and giant advertisements mixed in with a circus-y vibe, a wiener wagon, a cave of darkest dankest beat poetry goodness and live music and you'll not even come close.

this was after we saw a great musical, once, at the tivoli. we were lucky to catch it since last night was the very last showing of it, but when it comes out on dvd, i HIGHLY recommend this sweet sad film. oh, and did i mention we had a delicious dinner here? there is very little, tastebud-wise, that can make my toes wiggle in my shoes like the vegetarian spring roll, sesame noodle, vietnamese coffee combination.

tonight, if you're looking for something to do you could go dance the night away at the grand opening of cherry bomb/retro 101 at 2114 Cherokee Street featuring the music of hudson and the hoodoo cats and the vultures or go see this or this. maybe we'll see you. and tomorrow night? i'm going to be getting my fill of roller derby.

if you say there's nothing to do in st. louis? you're just not trying hard enough.

and, by the way, when did i turn into julie, your cruise director?

w.b.w.

you know when you have so much you want to tell your best friend and the words get all jumbled up in your mouth in the telling and your friend has no idea what you're talking about and your hands are wildly gesturing and eyes are blink, blink, blinking and your cheeks are flushed? that's how i feel right now.

i found a dress a day. i've been reading erin's archives with relish and clapping my hands gleefully under my chin like a little girl with each entry. did i mention that she's also a lexicographer?

oh. my. gosh. next to vintage dress patterns i have almost that many dictionairies. i heart dictionairies with a crazy passion. oh, and dress patterns. so the two of them combined is like a weird nerdy girl swoony cocktail of happiness.

and then she put me right over the edge...

she posted this pattern for which i have been searching for the vintage precursor to for years. i wish i was exaggerating, but i. am. not. it all started with a now defunct website where "members" posted pics and project notes of their sewing projects. somebody made the vintage version of this wrap dress and i became obsessed. now, thanks to erin (we're on a first name basis, doncha know?) i learned that butterick reissued the pattern.

i can hear you now, "why, heidi, did you not know that this pattern was reissued? don't you go to the fabric store more than your husband actually knows about?" oh, dear reader, your question is so wise, but you must understand...i don't troll the pattern books, because most modern patterns leave me cold. even though a photograph on the pattern envelope might give me a better understanding of the fit and ease of a given pattern, i don't get weak in the knees looking at a photo...give me a drawing (ala the above pattern) any day and i'll buy your pattern right out from under you.

so, one guess as to what i'm going to be doing this weekend? looks like my to-do list just got a little bit longer.

edge of your seat, i'm sure...

how could you do all the things you had planned for the weekend knowing that i had yoga on monday?

seriously...it went very well. there were only four students so it was more difficult to hide out and go unnoticed. i got a couple of "10s," accepted the praise and concentrated on my breathing.

we did do some stability ball work, which was new to me and required lots of core strength. since i've had three abdominal surgeries i have no abdominal muscle tone, to be sure, so i kept wiggling off the ball. it was a mental challenge for me to not be good at it. a very valuable lesson.

there you go. now you can rest easy. you've been updated.

namaste...

it is a disease, to be sure, but often i feel like i have to be the valedictorian of everything. if i'm not 100% perfect, then i must be doing something wrong. as my friend becky would say, "you must have had a difficult toilet training."

so, even though it goes completely against the entire philosophy of yoga, i have to be the best at it. there is a reason why the act of yoga is called "practice." we are not meant to be perfect -- ever. it is a lifelong practice. but, me? i soldier on, trying to make myself perfect anyway.

i've begun taking yoga at my office on my lunch hour and the instructor is the most high-energy teacher i've ever encountered. she likes to tell folks that their poses are "10s!" the first few classes the valedictorian side of me reveled in the constant praise she doled out. then, after a little while it made me self-conscious. because, if any of you know me very well or feel like you do from what i write here, you know that although i love adoration, i don't really dig attention being drawn to me. if you wrote a little note on my research paper about how you liked a particular point i'd made or spoke to me quietly in the corner to tell me you liked my dress, i'd eat that up. but call me out in front of class or with a lot of people standing around and i melt into a pile of perspiring mush.

on wednesday i formulated a strategy for avoiding being called out in yoga class. the plan included arriving perilously close to late (something i abhor) and situating my mat in the back of the class. it worked like a charm...until, that is, i realized i hadn't been praised at all. i felt dejected. weird, huh?

becky suggested that i welcome the praise, that i embrace it and own it, because, well, i deserve it. and that's when it dawned on me...i didn't think i deserved it. damn! that becky -- she's good.

so my assignment for monday's class is to welcome the praise...if it comes, that is, and if it doesn't? then know that i am still doing fine. just fine. this is just practice after all.

sounds easy, right? i'll let you know on tuesday.

this is what i do...

i work for attorneys. mostly i do ministerial legal assistant type tasks and schedule meetings, create complicated powerpoint presentations and well, let's say it...soothe bruised lawyer egos. but the other day i was asked to find out from what poem a particular stanza was lifted.

it's those types of research projects that keep this ex-english major (with an emphasis on women's studies) coming back to the office day after day.

my summer to do list...

1. finish the basement cleaning extravaganza. this includes:
a. sweep (for the one millionth time), vacuum, wash, and paint the concrete floor;

b. paint all of the bookshelves, cabinets, and dressers that hold my voluminous art supplies a lovely shade of buttercream yellow;

d. pick up my sewing machine from being serviced and, oh, i don't know...MAKE SOMETHING! maybe the silk scarf curtain lesley pointed out to me in elle decor.

2. clean out my closet. this includes:
a. folding the sweaters from overflowing sweater shelf;

b. figure out a real solution for the shoe issue (you know you have this problem too!);

c. get serious about the purses. come on, i'm never, ever going to carry that woven perry ellis bag again, but it never wore out. it's hard to part with;

d. and i know this isn't the closet, but get a handle on the drawers of the dresser.

3. redeco the living room. this includes:
a. reupholster the arm chair languishing for oh so many years in the basement;

b. refinish (stain) said chair;

c. buy and assemble entertainment center, bookshelves, sideboy and media cabinet from home decorator's outlet;

d. paint the living room a soothing, retro dove/pearl grey;

e. pick out reasonably priced area rug and window treatments;

f. come up with some stunning arrangement of almost free artwork.

4. the backyard:
a. wash the patio;

b. wash the patio furniture;

c. paint the adirondack chair, ottoman and two metal lawn chairs;

d. re-do the woven seat/backs for the aluminum lawn chairs;

e. weed, weed, weed.

5. collapse over the labor day weekend.

he dressed himself...

a dad, teenaged daughter and kindergarden-aged son emerge from the grocery store on a sunny, late afternoon. the boy is wearing rain boots, knit shorts, and a pajama shirt. dude is obviously prepared for whatever the world has in store from him. you go, little guy!

and dad? my hat's off to you too. in my early parenthood i would have tried to micro-manage him out of the top...time has taught me many things, one of which is, "style is not up for negotiation, mom."

w.b.w.

enid collins, eat your heart out!

secret? what secret?

i found a journal i had begun, first in november 2002 and then took up again in january 2005, right after my run in with the "c" word. i read a few pages. i was quite clearly working through some issues. some of the issues were "wow, i can't believe i had cancer" related; but many of them were everyday life issues, contemplating living each day with intention and purpose. not unlike what i've been thinking about lately.


what really caught my eye, though, was on my mondo beyondo list (a suggestion i got from andrea). one of the items on the list was, "own a vintage VW and paint a crown on the side or the top." wow! it's like i worked the secret even before i knew there was a secret because 5 months later i became the proud owner of a 1965 bubblegum pink VW squareback station wagon.


so, does that really mean the secret works and that just by putting my wishes out into the universe that it brought the VW to me? or does that mean that folks who believe in the secret are more likely to attribute any remote coincidences to the secret?

editor's note: after i wrote the above i read this. which made me wonder all 100th monkey-like if there are lots of folks questioning how the secret works. what are your thoughts on the secret?

i am not...

...a gardener. i like to plant things and i like it when they grow, but if you talk to me about zones, dead-heading and/or cross-pollination i'm a goner.

...a painter. i like color. i like to apply paint to many objects, but i cannot paint a picture.

...a good housekeeper. every once in while i realize that there are other people that routinely vacuum under the beds or sweep their kitchen floors and i do those things, but mostly i live in a very organized, not very clean, home.

...a straight cutter. why, oh why can i not cut a straight line?

...a correspondent. i realized yesterday that in the past month i've forgotten to send three anniversary cards and at least two birthday cards.

...a telephone talker. i may forget to call you back if you leave me a voice mail message. also, for someone who likes to talk a lot, i often forget that someone actually needs to listen for it to be called a "conversation."

...a faithful blogger. well, you can look at my archives and see that for yourself.

w.b.w.

simplicity pattern #1949, most likely from 1957.

those faces melt my heart.

what a weekend...w.a.w.

long weekends are always delicious, but this one seemed even more fabulous. i love it when the weather is not too hot (i don't really like a.c.) and you can sleep with a sheet covering you up with the fan blowing lilting night breezes over you. it makes me drift right off to dreamland.

so let's see, here's the rundown:

a little road trip and three hours of uninterrupted knitting time. i was able to finish up the yoke/sleeves of this. the next time i undertake a sweater project using dk weight yarn, in stockingnette stitch, however lovely and soft the fiber, please punch me in my arm and remind me of how neverending knit one row, purl one row can seem. i've cast on the 224 stitches for the bottom and calculated that i have nearly 20,000 stitches to go before i can even sew in the ends, block and seam it up. but it will be fabulous when it's finished. i promise to blog about it in 2009.

on the way home from the mini road trip, we visited a few antique stores/malls. we had amazing luck. i don't know about the rest of you that antique/thrift, but it seems like my luck comes in waves. perhaps it's that i look in a different way on those days. whatever it is, i am glad when luck visits me.

on saturday night we went to the roller derby. yes, you read that correctly...the ROLLER DERBY. it was a blast. for a brief moment, i thought i could be a roller girl, but, to be honest, i am just not that tough. this is a real game/sport and these women are playing for keeps. it does have a touch of the bizarre to it. the team members have crazy pun-ny names. so kelly and i cracked each other up coming up with all of the possibilities for my roller derby names. ran into my cousin, an acquaintance and the friend who introduced us. when worlds collide it's a wonderful thing.

took a class on sunday with the fun, funny, funky and fresh donna downey. what a great gal she is...and my classmates were great too. thanks to bev for sharing her tools with me!

on sunday there was more thrift store love and then i watched this movie and now am coveting this soundtrack. and the music that plays over the credits...love you by free design...it is my newest, favoritest song ever.

i missed pat benatar playing here, but the forecast for rain scared me off. but i did go downtown for this and the good luck continued. had a delicious linner (lunch + dinner = linner) here with a fab dessert of their famous sticky toffee pudding. "what's my favorite food? easy! sticky toffee pudding -- sincerely." (double points if you know what movie that quote is [sort of] from...kelly you don't get to play along.)

so that was it...very little housework. not nearly enough prep for the upcoming garage sale, but much relaxing.

tomorrow, a new twist on an old favorite...mixing it up on way back wednesday. see you then...i promise.

well, of course...

we've lived in our house for 17 years. right after we moved in i got a book of advice and how-tos for first time homeowners from the library. i don't remember much about this book other than this: anything that you want to do your home needs to be done in the first two years after you move in or you will never do it. how true.

when we first moved in, we had a newborn and a strict budget. that combination of circumstances meant that after we paid to have the hardwood floors refinished and painted the interior, our time and money were gone. thank goodness we knew lots of people willing to be paid for their manual labor in pizza and beer.

since those first salad days, we have done a fair number of updates to the house, mostly interior things, but recently, i've been busy in the yard. in the past i haven't done too much. this was in no small part due to the fact that my neighbor has a very ugly back yard, strewn with cast off, broken down little tykes goods (her daughters are into double digit ages now, far past the developmental stage for plastic play houses), rusty swing sets, a giant trampoline, two run down homemade dog houses, three broken barbecue pits, a deteriorating picnic table, countless trash cans and innumerable bicycles. she also seems to think that taking out one's trash, cleaning up after one's dogs or mowing one's lawn are tasks that only need be performed quarterly. so, beautifying my yard felt a bit like an exercise in futility.

something in me has snapped, though, and i am dedicating much of my time to creating a living environment (inside and surrounding my home) that reflects who and what i am.

there have been many discussions of late in the queen's household about change and what that change may signify. remember? hair length...tatooes and the like? so the hair has been shortened (i'm heading to short hair by degrees) and i've decided on a tatoo, but am waiting for a particularly significant anniversary to mark my body (more on that later). and, of course, all of that thinking lead to even more thinking.

i started to ponder what holds me back from doing the things i so often wish i was doing or hope for. often, in more ways than one, i was holding other people responsible for my contentment. "if only so and so didn't feel "X-way" then i could do {fill in the blank}. but you know what? that's just not fair.

if i love roses and forsythia and hydrangeas and azaleas and peonies, and i want to be able to cut them for a bouquet in my dining room, then it's up to me to plant then, water them, tend to them and arrange them. i refuse to wait until my neighbor cleans up her act, because that will mean that i may die before getting a garden that i love.

if i want the basement cleared out of my junk (yea, hi, there, kelly, you can use this entry against me sometime in the future when i say that it isn't ALL my junk...i know it is), then that's on me. same with cleaning the basement floor and painting it...if i'm the only one in the family that it bothers, then it's my job to do something about it.

ditto for painting the bathroom, reorganizing the hallway linen closet, culling my closet for out-of-date clothes. i have to take care of me and my stuff. that's not anyone else's responsibility.

because, here's the harsh reality about this "aha" moment...i am the only one ultimately on the hook for my own happiness. wishing that someone else could read my mind or figure out what it is that i desire just breeds resentment. i can make myself happy and if a trellis covered with trumpet vine makes me smile then i need to get my hands dirty and plant one.

wandering, part 2...

i mentioned that i might have an issue with concentration. it really takes me a while to quiet the constant chatter that is going on in my brain at any given moment and focus in on what needs my undivided attention.

so to sit through (and not fall asleep) an almost three hour documentary about french monks who toil daily in complete silence, well, it was a challenge. the viewing was almost like meditation. the opening scene is a tight profile of a monk's head, resting on his clasped hands...he is deep in prayer. the scene went on, uninterrupted, un-cut for nearly three minutes. every sound in the theatre was magnified. the scuttle of hands in popcorn bags, the crunching of the popcorn, coughing, sniffing, shoe shuffling. apparently it took all of the patrons to settle into the silence.

scene after languishing scene...red flickering candle, raindrops in ponds, grass blowing in the breeze, lyrics of latin chants, snow falling onto the camera lens, celery stalks lying on the butcher block waiting to be chopped, boxes of ivory buttons.

when i had seen the preview for this movie, i had thought there would be a narrator -- a voice to explain the mysterious life these men had chosen for themselves, but no. complete silence, save for perhaps 50 words spoken in french on the monk's one day they are allowed to speak -- sunday.

their heads were so often bowed in prayer, it was unimaginable to me. i am not a religious person, but just the thought of immersing myself in deep thought (on any topic) for hours upon hours seemed like a insidious form of torture. however, witnessing this cloistered life in such poetic, voyeuristic detail was amazing.

i felt a sense of calm when i left the theatre. others, who shall remain unnamed, felt refreshed--as though they had taken a 3 hour nap.

what if...

i love the look of tattoos...no, seriously, i do. at the bookstore last night i saw a man with a spiderweb tattoo that spread out across his elbow. i thought it elegant. i also adore the "sleeves" of tattoos. to me they demonstrate such dedication to the beauty of the art form and often they tell a story about the person. what an imaginative use of one's own body to express themselves.

the waiter at the restaurant i ate lunch at had his eyebrow and his lower lip pierced...perhaps not my cup of tea, but it was definitely an interesting look -- a look that made a statement.

i've had long hair for at least the last ten years. i wear it long because i'm a wash and go kinda gal -- short hair needs a lot of attention, trimming and maintenance for it to look good all the time. but also i keep my hair long because kelly likes it long.

kelly doesn't like tattoos...or piercings. i respect all of those preferences, the same way he respects my preferences for no perms on men, tighty whities, speedos or hair pieces. it's a simplistic understanding.

but i do wonder how i would look, what i would choose to say to the world, if i had never met kelly.

i know i would have tattoos...at least one, probably more. the first one i would get would be wings on my back, big wingspan with feathers trickling down to the waistband of my blue jeans.

somewhere i would get a tattoo of a bird. one of my grandfathers had a blue bird on his upper arm. he got it sometime in the 1920's i suppose, before tattoos were fashionable and i'm sure there was a bit of a stigma attached to it. his tattoo went completely against my childhood image of him -- eating ice cream, making tomato soup with ham sandwiches and playing pinochle and yahtzee...yes, there would definitely be a bird...or two.

i would get my nose pierced...one of those tee-niny little diamond studs on the side. i love those.

and, i've said this for ages, but if i could, i would shave my head...maybe not down to the skin, but for sure less than an inch long. i shaved my head in college and it was liberating...that was before i wore makeup everyday or shaved my legs or wore dresses because i wanted to. i mean, come on, i was a women's studies major. i did it then because it was what i thought i was supposed to do. now i would do it because i want to. and that's more to the point anyway, right?

so all that thinking about how i would look lead me to think about how i might act differently, what i would have ended up being.

i know i would probably drink a lot more. maybe smoke (i know, i know. but when i did smoke, i really liked it). i'm smarter now than i was back then, so maybe not smoking. but definitely, yes, i would drink more.

i'm an impulsive person, impatient and into instant gratification. kelly is the tortoise in the race. he rarely, if ever, makes decisions he later regrets. mostly because he considers every angle of a situation and then does the analysis again to make sure he hasn't missed anything. something i admire greatly. i am a point and shoot quick-draw decider. in the long run, we balance each other out, but if left to my own devices, i know i would have moved a million times, regretted many things, but made so many other decisions in the meantime, that most of the missteps would have been forgotten and lost in my considerable wake.

i don't know if i would have had children. kelly is the only person i could ever imagine parenting with, because we are of such a like mind. i knew instantly that kelly would be a great father, even before he knew it himself and that is part of what drew me to him. so, no, i don't think i would have had children.

kelly makes me happier than i ever imagined i could be, or ever thought i deserved to be. much of my now well-adjusted-ness is due in no small part to kelly's persistence in helping me see what good dwelled inside of me and bringing that goodness out. so, although, if i had never met kelly, my outward appearance would be different, inside i would be sadder...definitely lonelier...more meandering and hapless.

so i'll forego the tats, and piercings and deal with a long head of hair to be more content and settled. i think it's a good trade-off.

160, 72, 40, 30, 8...

did you ever take a one of those IQ tests? the ones where they give you a string of numbers and you have to figure out the pattern and what the next number will be?

the title of this post is not one of those quiz questions...

it is the amounts of each type of flower i planted yesterday afternoon.

160 impatiens
72 of some yellow spiky flowers
40 red spiky flowers
30 red geraniums
8 weather tough yellow marigolds

see, i'm not so good with anything other than the most pedestrian plants.

other new items...10 bags of potting soil, 9 new two-foot long planters, 1 bag of river pebbles and 1 new soaker hose.

now, i need 1 manicure...

nathaniel, chance, c.j....

this photo was taken using an underwater camera. we had leftover shots on it from the snorkel/whalewatching trip in hawaii.

i have a love/hate relationship with baseball.

i love to watch nathaniel play first base. when i see his 6' 3" frame stretched out to catch a throw out, i am busting at the seams.

i hate to watch him pitch (even though he's very good at it) because there's too much pressure on him when he plays that position.

this season has been challenging. the team doesn't boast but one senior and four juniors. some of the boys on the team have never before played baseball...never thrown a ball or worn a baseball glove or fielded a grounder or judged a pop fly to the outfield, not to mention held a bat and stood in the batter's box facing down a pitcher who is throwing 80 mile per hour fast balls inches from their body.

there have been some shining moments...like when the rookie right fielder caught a stinging hit like a football, cradling it in the bread basket and then breaking into a beaming smile. but, more often than not, the team has suffered some crushing defeats. i think pro coaches would label this a "transition year."

next week is the end of the regular season, followed by a trip to the district tournament. historically, the team has never made it out of the first round of this tournament and we don't hold out much hope for this year either. but even with all of the trials this season has presented these boys with, they continue to show up ready to play a game they love.

next year will be nathaniel's last baseball season of high school. this is a year that will be marked by many "this is the last"s. and i'm really feeling nostalgic and soft and tender. so whether i feel nervous when he pitches or proud when he makes a great play at first or hits a line drive over the second baseman's head (or doesn't do any of these things) i want to be there to see it. everything could possibly be the last...even when it isn't.

duh...

i sat at my desk and realized i had left my delicious soymilk coffee creamer on the front seat of my car.

i grabbed my building access card and walked down the four flights of steps to the parking garage. i reached my car and realized i didn't have my car keys. all the doors were locked.

i walked back up the stairs, got me keys and went down the stairs again to retrieve the much sought after creamer.

back up the steps and back at my desk i searched high and low for my splenda packets. both pockets of my purse, in my bookbag...finally i opened the drawer where i actually KEEP my splenda and there they were.

in the kitchen mixing up my elixir of morning yummy-ness i thought that perhaps starting work at 7:00 a.m. is not saving me so much time.

w.b.w.

this little number is called, "tantalizing charm."

is anyone else reminded of a barbra streisand movie?