Down the rabbit hole

Well, good evening.  I am FINally connected to the wireless here.  I was having big problems, so I sought the proprietress, and of course as she came to help me it worked fine and I felt like a doofus.  I almost had a mini panic attack and thought "WOW, I never thought I'd come to need technology so much."

I don't know what this church is called.  I just thought it was a pretty thing to see when I turned the corner.  Especially under a sky so blue it should be criminal.

So here I am snuggled in the Pocono mountains in Jim Thorpe.  The town used to be called Mauch Chunk (for sleeping bear, because some mountain supposedly looks like one) and at some point they named it after an athlete. I made it here in good time.  I remember before when I was up here finding a great quilting and antique shop so I sought it out again, only to learn the antiques part was up for sale and the quilt part had been sold and moved elsewhere. I punched the address into the GPS and went almost 20 miles out of my way to spend $12 on fabric.  But that's out of my system now.

When I got here and was all checked in and unpacked I was instantly overtaken by that feeling of "What am I supposed to do now?"  My stomach said "Get some food in me" so I said "OK, stomach. Let's go."  A few blocks down the street (I say down, even though I firmly believe no matter which way you walk in this town it's all uphill), and happened upon a little cafe:

Yay!! An Alice in Wonderland themed restaurant.

The dining room.  They had the niftiest music inside--very old-fashioned and idyllic.

After quieting my stomach with a heart-shaped seafood lovers sandwich, I wandered aimlessly for a bit.  I am well aware of what there is to do here, but I wanted to just walk and look, so I took a nice slow pace (very unusual for me--I tend to race from one thing to the next and wonder what I was in such a rush for).  I sauntered (because it's much sassier than simply walking) into a store called The Gem Shop.  I didn't check if these were for sale but I'm pretty sure I'm going to want them or something similar in my life one day:

I think these would look awesome in a white room, with minimalist decor.  

I like these artsy/craftsy places because it's refreshing to see things done a little differently than in your typical 'big box' stores that abound in the city:

They shouldn't make the door look so inviting if they're going to be closed.  Some places here are only open on weekends.

I had myself the most delicious sundae at the Rainbow's End, an adorable candy and ice cream shop.  I was watching her make my sundae, and when I saw that she was putting the walnuts on when the cup was only half full I must have had a "WHAT??? GIVE ME MORE!" look on my face, because she explained that she puts toppings in the middle and on top, so that you don't eat all of it at the beginning.  It seems such a simple concept, and yet I never thought of it before, or seen anyone else make a sundae that way.  

Afterward I realized my head was a'hurtin' a little bit, so I got some coffee.  This place must be new--I've never seen it before. It was kind of weird.  There were hand-drawn pictures of bands/musicians on the wall (not weird), and one lone couch in the middle of the floor (weird).  One of the owners was holding court, talking about how he chose the musicians to paint.  When I ordered my coffee, the conversation stopped (literally) and I could feel eyes burning into my back.  I sugar-and-creamed it up and hightailed it out of there.  I didn't feel like going back to the B and B yet, so I sat on a bench (of which there are plenty in this town) and drank my coffee and just watched. 

A bench made from an old shutter.  Love the concept, but I don't think it looks comfortable.   Especially the middle part.  I was sitting on the bench next to it.

While I sat here I noticed a few things.  People say hello, and mean it.  They smile warmly.  They wave from their trucks.  I don't know these people at all, but they're so friendly.  The streets are tiny, and there isn't much parking.  A woman pulled up and double-parked in front of a house to unload groceries; people calmly waited and went around.  If that happened in the city you'd get the hand, then the finger, then some words, followed by a car speeding by to really drive home the point of how unappreciative the driver was of your double-parking.  And I love that small town thing where people walk places at night without having an overwhelming feeling that something is going to happen to them.  I love my city, but sometimes it's nice to know that somewhere everything isn't so hurried and suspicious.

When I made it back to the house I rested my rear right here and read for a bit:

This perfectly red rocking chair was in the gazebo out back.

Things that are meant to fly are really difficult to take good pictures of.

So far so good.  But I did notice something.  It is painfully difficult to eat by yourself.  So awkward to sit at a table by yourself and wait for your food to come.  And when you say things like "Can I have a table for one?" people look at you sympathetically for some reason, as though single folks should not be dining out.  The main thing I'm missing (and yes I know--it's only been a day) is having someone to talk to whenever I want.  Normally I have a comment for everything, but I had no one to turn to and share those with.  There's a huge difference between wanting the house to yourself for a few hours and being somewhere else by yourself for a few days.

I'm going to have some tea, watch NCIS (some things don't change no matter where you are), and curl up in the most comfortable looking bed I have ever seen. I hope it doesn't disappoint.  G'night, gang!

UPDATE:  My Uncle Andrew asked me to let everyone know that he loves Jim Thorpe just as much as I do :)

Whimsy

Found this yummy little number on ebay last week.  Bought it for no good reason.  Made me happy.  Began writing in incomplete sentences (hehe).

I fell in love last week with the blog of Melissa Averinos of Yummy Goods.  If you have some time to kill head on over--you will want to paint your kitchen orange, go to yard sales, and will never look at rust the same ever again.  Her blog is where I saw the book above.  She once featured a neat-o board game from 1972--it was Milton Bradley's game of Happiness. It was very hippie and '70s and fun-looking, so I decided I wanted it. Just because.  So I headed to ebay, and when I first searched for 'Happiness' I received the message 'Happiness cannot be found.'  I chuckled and thought "Ebay...you old cynic, you."  I've been trying to get it to do it again so I could screen-capture it, but now I get 16,000 results for happiness (maybe I mistyped the first time).  Anyway, I entered my bid, watched like a hawk the entire weekend, kept an eye on it Monday afternoon, and as the auction ended Monday evening....completely forgot about it and was outbid.  Boo.  So maybe I wasn't meant to have Happiness (the game--not the emotion. Or state of being. Or whatever it is).  Because now all that is for sale is the chop-shop version where you buy each piece individually and it costs a fortune.  I will now begin my quest for a reasonably priced version of Happiness.

This weekend is my long weekend in Jim Thorpe, nee Mauch Chunk, PA.  I'll have my technology accompanying me, so as I'm calling it an evening with my tea and chocolate-covered granola bar I'll share my afternoon.  See you soon!

A mini-reunion, a 3-tiered cake, and mega-good times

My oldest friend is Angela. Not age-wise, but length of relationship-wise.  But I think she may be the oldest age-wise, too...not sure.  To me we're still 14.  We've known each other since we were 4 years old, in the same dance class, trying to coordinate our little feet and become nimble little ballerinas.  We went to different grade schools, but the same high school, having many of our classes together.  We went to the same college, and lived about two blocks away from each other for a looong time.  Then, one day, she met a boy.  His favorite color was blue; his favorite movie was Ishtar for reasons she still doesn't understand.  He cooked her a first dinner of stuffed shells. (These details came out during a game we were playing--I don't have this kind of insider knowledge about him).  And then he asked her to marry him. There are a lot of other events, and several years thrown in there between the stuffed shells and the proposal, but I wanted to get up to speed quickly. I'm not writing a novel here, folks. 

Almost 2 years ago, she made the move to Chicago, where they are happily dwelling and tidying up the plans for their wedding next month.  This past Saturday we held her shower at her mother's house.  I have not seen her in almost 2 years, so it was a much-anticipated day of hugs and laughter.

I love the little cake-topper Homer and Marge Simpson.

 Those flowers are all made of sugar.  They look like porcelain.  They taste like yum (I snuck a taste, just to see).

That cake is 3 layers of dee-lish.  There was a chocolate chip layer.  A plain vanilla layer. And an Italian rum cake layer.  I had to sample all three to make sure they were edible.

Here are a few traditional shower staples in white: the lacy umbrella and the gift-opening chair.

 Look at the way that satin is wrapped around each rail of the chair!  And the cozy footrest!  And the obligatory umbrella to catch the good wishes (or something. It's something good.  I'm not sure what, but it catches good things. Or maybe it's literal because it's a shower.  Maybe I should have looked it up).

One day I shall sit with my feet propped up and open lovely present after lovely present.

If your name is Angela and you live in Chicago stop reading this right here because I don't want you to cry again (please don't be mad at me for letting people know you cried).

About ten years ago, my lovely friend lost her darling father.  In order to perpetuate nostalgia, her mother took a beautiful gift that was given to her for her own wedding, and passed them on to her daughter, for use at hers:

The left one says "Groom" and the right says "Bride" (sorry for the blurriness).

I love heirloom gifts; this one was especially touching to see being given.  There was another moment like this when she opened the cake knife and serving thingee that were also her parents'.  It was a touch humorous because her mom prefaced it with "I'm sorry...I did these up too." 

OK, Angela, you can start reading again.

We, her bridesmaids, all went in on one big gift, but we each gave her a little individual gift too. Here's mine (try to hide your shock):

I love how it reflects back up in the mirror.  My Angela is not the traditional sewing basket type of girl, so a small, sparkly purple train case was the answer.

And what's a bridal shower without underwear? 

These are so deliciously saucy.  

I don't want to get kicked out of the wedding so I'm not going to share the beautiful lace nightie she received. Plus I don't know if that violates some wedding night code of not seeing the bride...or if that only applies to the dress....I'm not taking any chances. She's going to be mad enough at me for telling everyone she cried and then showing people her underwear.  If we were still kids she'd probably be figuring out a way to pants me to get me back.

We ate, and laughed, and ate, and talked, and talked, and talked.  So much fun. Such good times.  I can't believe we're all grown up and getting married.  Well, some of us are.  Yours truly still has her sanity. Haha...just kidding.

Globetrekkin' to Asia (but not really)

I wanted to share the final two skirts I'm entering in the crafterhous Skirt Week contest.  I almost HAD to bend my sister's thumb back to get her to slip these on for me.

They're both straight skirts, but one is  a cotton woven and the other is a cotton knit.

The one on the left is the result of my first sewing-without-a-pattern ordeal.  My youngest sister has a knack for seeing things somewhere and wanting them replicated exactly.  She was watching Globetrekker (I think) and wanted a straight black cotton skirt, but without an elastic or drawstring waistband.  I was sewing approximately 3 months when she asked for this and had zero knowledge of body measurements and curves and proportions.  I hacked away (literally) for about a week trying different things, but it ended up fiercely asymmetrical and sometimes had bumps that looked like little pointy ears.  I decided to just sew 2 rectangles together, the back one slightly larger to accommodate the tush, and put a band on the top like a neckband from a t-shirt, and met with success.  I've made her several of these so far.  They look super-comfy; I haven't made myself one because I don't want to be made painfully aware of how much bigger my bum is than hers.

The skirt on the right I made on Easter whilst waiting for company to come over--it was that quick to put together.  There are 2 darts in the back and a side zipper; other than that it's straight seams and a band that gets sewn inside the waist so there technically isn't a waistband, in the traditional sense.  She selected the fabric, and asked me to make her a few skirts for her birthday--this is one of them.  The other is made from shirting fabric with a tropical-Hawaiian flavor to it.  Since I know a bit more (but not much) about clothing alterations, etc. these were much less beastly to put together than the super-simple black one was at the time.

I decided to make a sample of the Asian skirt so I wouldn't waste her skirt fabric, so I dug into my stash for some stuff I wasn't in love with to make sure the pattern would work out ok.  I sewed in the most beautiful zipper ever. EVER. I texted my friend and let her know how awesome I am. It was that good.  I did all the other steps, and then it came time to attach the waistband.  And my measurements were way off.  I could not figure out what the h-e-double hockey sticks I had done. I pulled out the pattern pieces, I checked my measurements, I filled the swear jar, I promised to write a letter to Burda (who usually have great patterns), but still--nada.  I held up the skirt by the waist, thinking that would help.  And then I saw it--I sewed the zipper to the bottom of the skirt (essentially upside-down); no wonder I was so far off. The kicker is that at the exact instant I realized the issue my sister walked by and said (totally unaware of what the deal was) "Ummm...I think that's going to be way to big for me."  I had to then text my friend and tell her I wasn't that awesome, and then she laughed at me for a while.  I emailed the story to my old sewing teacher (old in the sense that I don't take lessons anymore and she used to be my teacher--she's actually quite young) and she wrote "I'm glad to hear some things don't change.  I'm typing that with a smile, just so you don't think I'm being sarcastic."  But I fixed my error, and the sample skirt is actually a pretty cute wearable garment.

That's all the tomfoolery I have for you today.  Get ready Monday, because here I come!

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things."*

*Robert Brault

That says it all, no?

For as long as I can remember little things have amused me.  The fact that it may be Friday, for example.  When I was student teaching aaaaages ago, my fifth graders would tell me "We love Fridays too--you're always funner (oy! the grammar!) on Fridays!"  Green Swedish fish can make my day.  Today a co-worker picked all of the green ones out of the bag and gave them to me. Sweet!!  Babies in church always do the trick.  Because sometimes it's not always interesting, I confess (haha--confess. Catholic humor).  I think too often we take the little things for granted.  But life is made of little moments, and the big ones are few and far between.  If we waited for those how sad our lives would be.

On my lunch break today I went traipsing off to the gift shop for a few things.  I had to fight the urge not to buy this:

A tangible motto.

But my will power couldn't overcome the urge to buy these:

  Candy-coated almonds.  I don't know anyone who likes them--I think they're deeee-lish!

Other things that made me smile today?  Fitting a gift into a bag that was a mite too small.  Having a turkey and Swiss cheese sandwich on a baked pretzel roll for lunch.  Hitting no traffic on the way home from work.  Receiving a fun little package in the mail today.  Watching NCIS as I type this.  The prospect of an orange cream-sicle after I finish typing this.  The fact that I took these pics on my phone and they're not half bad.

Take note of the little things, kids.  They make up your life.  And when you add them together?  Way bigger than the 'big' things we thought we needed to be happy.

And for those who like it literal:

A miniature tea set.  That white piece on the left just behind it is the creamer for a full-sized set, to give you an idea of the scale. 

Have a loverly weekend!

Yellow yellow bo bellow banana fana fo fellow me mi mo mellow. Yellow.

It's gray and rainy.  It's not the good kind of rain where you can hear it pinging off of the windows, or the kind that heralds in a thunderstorm.  It's that cold rain that just falls lightly--not enough to be significant, but enough to make things dreary and blah.  Enough to sap your energy, yet still make you feel restless. I don't feel like doing anything, and the words are getting caught somewhere between my brain and my fingers.  So here are a bunch of pictures reminiscent of what I want right now.  It was here just yesterday, yet it feels like it's been days...

 "Sunshine...on my shoulders...makes me happy" (and sunburned because I'm so fair.  Tee-hee).

Kind of wishing I had a real pair instead of a ceramic pair of Wellies.

 

$1.00 for a little yellow oinker of a piggy bank. I just noticed the yellow paper in the background. A two-fer!

 

Knit cotton dishcloth: some assembly required.

The unmistakable look of a stack of Nancy Drew mysteries. I believe I've read them all.

 

Bedroom curtains I made this winter.  When I first hung them I felt like I was waking up each morning inside a daffodil.

  

Music geekery.

 

Sunshine-y sewing supplies.

Yellow yo-yo magnet. It's fun to say. Yellow yo-yo. Yellow yo-yo. Yellow yo-yo.  Now they don't even sound like real words anymore.

 

My favorite boys Sponge Bob Connect 4.  Kind of creepy the way the pieces are leering through the holes in the board.

 

No words needed. Love this pic.

 

Surprisingly banana Tootsie Pops aren't as gross as they sound. Or look.  I dig the wrapper, though.  Vintage-y.

 

Fine. I'll tell you the story.

That last one was a Christmas present from my nephew.  There are boxes of cards inside with super simple questions on them that you're supposed to ask in rapid-fire succession.  It's harder than it sounds--your mouth wants to spit out the correct answer while your brain is trying to come up with the wrong one.  He picked this out specifically for me saying "Let's get this for Aunt Bee, because she always has to be right."  Have I told you that I love that kid? In case you missed it, I love that kid. 

I feel better.  Thanks for hanging out, loves.

"You used up ALL the glue on PURpose!!"

(A little early for 'A Christmas Story' quotes, but it fits...read on--you'll see).

Hello, dearies.  As usual, I spoke too soon. Yesterday I was all "blah blah blah done my to-do list blah blah blah" and today I got two and a half orders.  The half isn't official yet because the details are up in the air.  But tonight, I did finish the old to-do list.  Here are some pics, even though they may look familiar:

Wavy top tote in 'Vintage Flowers' from Joann Fabrics, and plain dark pink cotton.

 I think I've got the zipper part down.  I thought I was done but I had to go and add some fabric to the zipper pull--the bag could be sewn inside out but heaven forbid there's no fabric on the zipper pull :)

Finding the pink for this was a bit of a chore.  First we tried tone on tone, but nothing was worthy.  Then we were going to try brown; I think brown would have made the flowers pop a bit more, but would have been much more bland.  Then I tried plain pink broadcloth, and it worked--the shade of pink is in-between the two pinks on the bag, so it works nicely.  It's bright yet muted, and fun but not obnoxious.  Me likes. 

Tonight I summoned up my will-power and finished 2 more projects. They only took about an hour each, so I don't know why I put them off.  First up is a sunglasses case:

The fabric is called 'Kyoto Hollyhock' and came from Joann's (I don't remember designers, just the store name apparently).

This is pretty much the same case as this one, but I made it a little larger.  Sunglasses tend to run quite large and don't fold up quite so compactly as they used to; so the case needed to be bigger so it could snap shut.  

And this is a simple little Easy Peasy purse:

This fabric has been seen before....

Frame purses are pretty easy. They don't use much fabric and the sewing is pretty much straight. The only part that can be a little fiddly is gluing the purse into the frame. I've been using an awesome textile glue that has a great hold--I try to pull the bags apart to test it and it doesn't budge.  Tonight as I was going around the first half of the frame of the second purse, I noticed a hunk of glue on my hand.  I thought "Hmm, must have touched the frame somewhere."  I kept moving along, getting glue on my hand and still thinking that I must have just touched some glue.  I grabbed a fabric scrap to wrap around the tube because even though it's grippy it was still slippy (tee-hee).  I left it to set up and went to wash my hands; at this point I noticed that I blew a hole in the side of the tube--glue was no longer coming out of the top, but out of the hole, and there's no way that was going to be working out.  I had just enough glue in the tube to finish but now I was stuck.  I had bought a tube of similar glue at Joann's and figured I'd try it out.  If odor is any indicator this new one isn't as strong (but I did my yank test and it seems ok).  It doesn't apply as easily, and the tip is just a bit too fat to fit in the channel of the frame.  I'm glad it was on the second purse--I don't have any more of these on my to-make list, so I can order the good stuff without worrying when it gets here.

Ok. I have to go pick the dried glue off of the frames.  And find nail polish remover to get the glue off of my fingers.