lady cordelia

my mama said one day

Have I ever told you that when I met The Brad I had very little furniture in my house or food in my fridge?  I just was vacant in a bunch of ways.  Even though I had a good family and friends, I was lost. Real lost.  I cooked up a mean meal of toast and beer and dated stinky men.  (I mean "stinky" in a figurative sense.  But, maybe also literal.) Ya.  It happens.  I had no sense of style back then.  

Check out my style now.  Ya.  That's right.   Two daughters on a Craigslist couch under vintage wool blankets.  

That.  Freaking. Rocks. Hard. 

Hey, did I ever tell you I didn't know how to cook?  I didn't even know how an oven worked.  I had lost too much weight.  I didn't think I'd meet a nice man.  I thought I'd never have an opportunity to have my own children.  All alone and lonely. I listened to sad songs.  I dreamed.  My mama promised me: One day.  

Right now my house is a mess, my kids are screaming.   My desk looks like a bomb went off and organizing it will take several hours.  I think there may be a cat poo in the litter box.   I forgot to run the dishwasher. The chicken coop needs deep cleaning.  What? Is that a pair of kids undies in the toilet?  And you know laundry is my weak point, so please... oh please...let's not even go there.   Let's go here instead:

readers: enjoy all you have today.  and prolly just skip the laundry.

living (he)art.

As you may or may not know: The Brad and I are self-employed.  We swing from limb to limb doing what we love.  When we met, The Brad was starting his Landscape Photography business from the ground up.  He needed a woman who would deal with the years ahead...all the struggles and learning curves.  And there were many.   (Learning Curves that is, not women. Luckily for me.)   He also, in the midst of becoming a professional photographer, established himself as a web designer.

As for me, I wanted to do what I wanted as well.  Bringing in income from my songwriting catalog has been an up and down mainstay for many years.  (Also in the last few years I created a small editing business that I run from home.)

Anyway- we all live here in this household that is big on artistic freedom & expressing ones self as well as a  commitment to those things.  Our 5-year-old is taking piano.  Everyone told me that she was too young but she was up for it (and she is doing just wonderfully.)  This morning she broke down in tears as a new lesson surfaced and a steep learning curve presented itself.  "I can't do it."  she said.  But I wouldn't let her off with that thought in her head. I suppose I was strict with her- though lovingly so.  After just a few more minutes of focusing, she could make it through the piece.

It takes inspiration and work.  The "artistic freedom" part is easy when the inspiration is there or the piano lesson for the day is easy.  But...following your heart and sticking with it.  That's not as easy.  You know what I mean?  Even when the notes are hard to figure out or you spill water all over the masterpiece painting you just finished.  It's all part of it.

Gosh, I know.  Because I still get frustrated.  Irritated. Let down.  And sometimes I have to shut Brad's studio door because something, somewhere went wrong with his workday and the wave of yelling is so tidal that it feels we will all get swept away.  But at the end of the day, The Brad and I can look at eachother square in the eye and know we are both fulfilled with what we've chosen to do.  And that means a whole lot.

Daughters: It's work to follow the heart.  Work hard.  Follow more.  Work harder.  Then reap the bounty of all the work.  And you will, a million times over.  Truly! A painter, a teacher, a piano player, a doctor, a plumber, a landscaper, a mathematician, a whatever.  It doesn't matter. Wherever your heart leads you.  Whatever it is that speaks to you.  That is what you should follow.   It will be wonderful. I promise.

finding.

For some reason, like I've told you, I'm late bloomer.  It's taken me time to find that which I really love.  For instance, the interior "style"  of my home never meant much to me until I fell in love with the bohemian/antique/flea market look.  I still have a long way to go in creating my second-hand interior, but at least I know what I like. 

So, as far as cooking goes, I fell in love with Heidi Swanson's new cookbook.  (Jeez.  You so know about this and are so tired of hearing about it.  Luckily for you, my story goes past Swanson today!) Then a blog friend, the very gal, Amanda, I tag on with for weekending, told me about another cookbook (really?  there's another one?) called Feeding the Whole Family.  I got it and realized immediately that this was an essential book in my kitchen because it focused on a kids palate. (Swanson has no kids, I guess her recipes do seem to, kinda, accentuate that fact.)

What I am coming to, is that I found our perfect soup today.  This was so exciting. I made a basic chicken broth from my new book (and also consulted the Alice Waters broth recipe ) and let it really cook for a long time.  About three hours.  I know you are thinking: Duh.  That is normal for cooking broth.  But, you are talking to me: an impatient beginner in the kitchen.  Not today though.  Nope!

When the girls got hungry, I scooped some broth into a smaller pot, added soba noodles and, when the noodles were almost ready, some finely diced chard from the garden.  Topped it with a dusting of  dried dulse (and hot sauce on mine.) Wow.  Sooooo good.  The girls flipped over it because it had noodles, and I loved that they were soba noodles and not white pasta noodles, which I really am not big on.  Not real big on meat either, but I feel that a home-cooked organic chicken broth seems wonderful for growing bodies, especially when those bodies have little colds.

I know it's simple.  Chicken broth.  Soba noodles.  Trimmings.  But, when you've been searching for the perfect family soup for a while, it is really an amazing victory.  I love this idea of child-friendly (whole food) cooking/preparing.  I am very much wanting to make sesame rice balls for the girls, but I guess I need a pressure-cooker.  This is a whole new world to me.  A pressure-cooker!? I am thinking someone might want to pass on their old pressure cooker to me because they don't need it anymore.  Otherwise.  Well. Christmas is coming up.  (Brad.  Hi.)

Kay.

This weekend we did some resting cause my big girl got a lil' cold.  Along with the soup making, I cleaned house (sort of, but not really) and baked bread from this book and knitted.  Spent a little time outside because I cleaned the chicken and duck coop yesterday which always makes me so happy when I go outside.   Within a few more days, I'll have to tidy it again.  Then I will be slightly irritable.  And then I will clean it again and be happy again. 

I don't know if you have noticed but the "little things" in life make me very joyous.  People often tell me I am easy to please.   A pressure cooker would please me greatly.   Rice balls.  Hmmm.  La de da. Hummdy hum.  Just saying.  Brad.

Also: a little art with the women in my life.  We have about 1000 stamps that look somehow handmade that someone gave to us some time ago.  Really, if you can think it, we have a stamp for it.  Yes: bunny ears.  Yes: a cereal box.  Yes:  a toilet.  I was really into the sailboat.  The toilet was mildly amusing.  But. I really am way above and beyond potty humor.  (And if you believe that, I have a great used car you might be interested in.)

Anyhoo, I hope your weekend has been fabulous.
Bye for now.

 

 

 

 

first stiches

Lately I have been waxing sentimental on the 'baby stages' of my girls lives.  They are not babies anymore.  And that is that. Moving on...

I have been waiting a long time to introduce my older girl to sewing.  Not being a great sewer myself, I didn't quite know where to start.  Then, yesterday in the craft store everything became clear.  I knew to ask for a blunt needle, material that would work for it, and one of those circular thingy's to put the  material in (see, I don't even have the proper seweing vocabulary but I'm sure one of you will enlighten me quickly.).

A few hours later at home I nonchalantly asked her if she would like to try sewing.  Oh boy, did she ever!  

I gave her basic instruction and then sat down quietly beside her.  I watched her little hands push the needle to and fro.  First big, long stitches, then medium and smaller.   The studious look on her face and then the sheer joy at completing another stitch! 

There is something about sewing, not unlike knitting, not unlike baking.  Many of us intuitively know how to care-take for ourselves and our families.   It's an art that gets passed on generation to generation.  I love that.  In her cells, I believe, is a genetic connection to sewing.  My mother sewed (and taught me), and her mother, and her mother and so on.  Whether or not my daughter continues to resonate with the motion of a needle and thread...that is a different story.

In my view, school can only teach so much.  Or rather, so little.  Sitting with mama learning to thread the needle, again and again...this is the learning my girls will carry in their hearts.  It doesn't matter what they do with it later in life.  These precious moments of love and connection, they too create channels for future generations. 

 

 

what is the world without art?

Well, gosh.  I like art.  And I am glad that the world has art. On that note, have I told you I really like knitting?   And even more since I now think I might just be able to knit a pattern.  Remember my sob story a few days ago?  The one about how I can't follow patterns?  Well, I think I can now!   I just started a hat for myself with the Soulemama "favorite hat" pattern and I do believe, now that I know all the correct knitting stitches (which matters quite a bit, evidently), I am on to my first real finished knitting project! How nice it will be to not have someone say:  "Oh, uh-huh, it has your own creative touch.  How nice."  In other words:   Ya just couldn't follow the pattern, could you? (And by the way, the knitting pictured here is not the one I speak of, this is a simple knit stitch cap for O.  I knit like I read, several  are open at once.) And you know why this is so important to me?  Because, although we very much honor personal creativity in this family, there is something to be said for being able to do something the way it is supposed to be done.  Creative liberties are nice when they are chosen by free will.  But, who would not want to be able to follow directions when that was the chosen matter of course?  Let me describe it another way: Artistic license is great- when it's not an excuse. Ok.  And here's what else:  A $1 (yes, $1) wood frame from Michael's that you can have your kids (or yourself) paint and then put a sweet photo in as a Christmas gift.  (I found these in-store- not sure if they are online.) (I love parenthesis.) And here's what else.  No kids paints are better than Tempera, I now see.  (Not Ikea, not Melissa and Doug, etc...  just plain ol' Tempera.) And here's what else.  It's Monday and I need to get my butt moving. The usual Monday grocery shopping in the big city. Onward.

don ’t usually post twice in one day but…

...it's hard not to keep you up with all the darn creativity around here.  I'm seeing these take me about an hour.  Only 25 more to go!  And this one was done with screaming children in the same room! here's "B."  Don't worry, I will commence in actually sharing more with words in the next few days...

sleep dream

Just finished a little something to hang over the girls beds...

*******

wax creative

I'm still trying to get my upstairs art space happening.  Sewing, painting, drawing.  I'm not particularly good at any of it.  But, it's a starting place.  No matter what I do, everything feels unorganized and all over the place.  Try, try again.

Below is something I made last night.  Because I don't have a plethora of art supplies, I borrowed some from the kids.  I threw this together quickly because I had an urge to draw and glue.  But it was also 8 p.m. and, as usual, I was really gosh-darm tired. I just started with the sketch.   Added junk on it.  Didn't have enough good paper.  Used a Trader Joe's grocery bag.  Needed a few sparkles.  Cut them off one of the girls many raggedy princess dresses.   That's how I roll.  The frame was something I found at a thrift store and fixed up (or roughed up) a little bit. I love elephants dearly.  They are all over our house.  Paintings of them and paintings by them.  Also photos of them.  None by them though.  Not yet, anyway.

inspiration 101

This morning was my morning to get up early with the girls.  One of the pluses of being a self-employeed family is that no one leaves for work at the same time every morning.   There are minuses to being self-employeed too.  But, not as far as the children are concerned.  They get to be with either myself or B. almost every moment of these itsy-bitsy formative years. Anyway, back to this morning.  I figured we had not endeavoured (is that a word?) in a traditional paper and glue art project in some time.   So, we cut, pasted, spilled glue, whined a little, and talked about chickens.  (Chickens are always a very good conversation piece around here.  We really love chickens.) We spent some time questioning why they might like to eat purple sunflower seeds.   And there are a lot of reasons.  Far too many too list here. Sometimes I wake up so inspired to do things. Various art projects, sewing, gardening, organzing.  Even cooking or baking delicious things.  But sometimes, the inspiration is gone before I can get my hands on anything.  So, question is: do I grit through and make those cupcakes even though I'm no longer truly inspired? I know this all has something to do with energy; a fluidness that is within.   When things get in the way- a mild cold for instance, or a less than satisfactory nights sleep- inspiration suffers. And therein lies a personal definition of depression: when beautiful life-fueled inspiration has been replaced by the feeling of "should" do.  (I really should do an art project with the girls this morning.)    Without inspiration, what will carry us safely though spilled glue and the whines? Perhaps inspiration is simply a mind-set. A mind-set.  Trust.  Perseverance.  Remembering: when I do go fo it, I'm always much happier in the end.

post #41

And it is with Post #41 that I share some photos of Chloe's quilt that I just finished.  I had my mom do the last of the binding stitching last night when we were visiting.  I figured a little of Nana's love would seal it up well.  Also, I had messed up on a corner and she would fix it as well as it could be fixed. Again.  I use no measurement tools thus,I measure nothing.  I had no idea how to make corners, I figured it out (or not) as I sewed along. I'm not sure if I do things this way because I like to take chances, or because I have never been too good at learning by listening.  I learn much better by doing.  Or maybe it's that I just tend to get too restless when someone is trying to teach me how to do something.  Who knows why we all do the things we do.  Who cares? Bottom line is, the quilt turned out pretty cute (just don't look too close.  Ok?)