Dreams...

Twice in the last week I've dreamed about making a quilt.

The first dream concerned a quilt with a traditional star block done in Kansas Troubles-like fabrics (not a type of fabric I typically work with!).

The second was about having a stack of really colorful fabrics and needing to make an applique quilt of some kind. Just as I settled on butterflies and started drafting my pattern, I woke up.

Is it a coincidence that I have in my sewing machine upstairs a half-done quilt and have been saying for days and days, "I'd like to have a chance to sew today"? That since starting to work at the local quilt shop I nearly constantly have fabrics and designs and colors and ideas dancing in my brain?

Surely not!

Yes, I knit a dog.

A while ago a friend gave me a copy of Knit Your own Dog, a book I really wanted. of course, the moment it arrived there was someone else who was very interested in it. Cora looked at every page, but really there was no contest. She wanted a poodle. And she wanted it to be pink. Pink and white. With specific directions about which parts should be which colors. I read through the directions, tried to visualize them all, and it turned out it was possible to do it the way she requested.

I do like her expression.

A few weeks later we trekked down to Fargo (where the yarn stores are) and I bought the yarn - a pink boucle and some white Cascade. And I was ready to begin! One of the first things I discovered is that boucle yarn and I are not tempramentally suited to each other. Then, at the point where the two sides of the body are joined up to make the neck and head, I forgot one of my own cardinal rules of knitting: Just Trust the Directions.  I thought the directions were wrong. I thought I had it figured out how it should go.

Oh, I was so wrong.

Does she stand at a jaunty angle because she has great confidence?
Or because I might have made some mistakes?

To fix my mistake, once I realized it, would have meant ripping out 10 rows of boucle madness. I set the dog aside for two months. Last week Cora asked about her poodle; she knew I had started it. So, two days ago I took another look at it, decided how I would "fix" my mistake without ripping things out. It meant having the "wrong" side of the stockinette stitch facing out on the belly, but I decided I could live with that. I knit the head, learning and using the loopy stitch, which was fun, and then last night I stitched the whole dog together and stuffed it.

Pippsi's good side.

I propped her up (there was never any question of the dog's gender, given who would name and own her) on the kitchen island, took some photos, and left her standing right where Cora's cereal bowl normally sits.

Happy with her dog!

This morning, Cora got up, dressed, went out to the kitchen, and then the squeals of joy commenced. She named the dog Pippsi, which I think suits her quite nicely.

Cora and Pippsi making faces.

Sunday Sauce: a photo essay

Beneath my husband's German-Norwegian-Swedish exterior lurks a more Mediterranean heart. This past Christmas he received the Frankie's Sputino cookbook (really, much more than a cookbook), and we finally were able to clear away a weekend day to make the (cue the trumpets) Sunday Sauce with meatballs and braciola.

First there is the simmering of 13 cloves of garlic in a cup of olive oil. I know!

Four big cans of whole tomatoes get mushed up by hand - this is just one can.

The sauce begins...it cooks, all told, for almost five hours.

The braciola - pork shoulder steaks butterflied and stuffed
with provolone, parmesan, garlic, and parsley, then tied up.
Chris was impressed with my butcher-grade tying skills.

Into the pot for three hours.

Pure yummy.

Meatballs! - Though these are actually the meatballs
from the excellent blog Dinner: A Love Story.



After baking about 30 minutes they go into the sauce for about 30 more.



There was also bread.

Dinner itself.

After the sauce night we had the braciola shredded in sauce on farfalle the next night, and then the night after that I made a lasagna with the leftover meats and sauce that was really fabulous. And we ate it for lunch all week long. Making the sauce is a big time commitment, over the course of the week, it felt like we had in fact saved time.

Imagination to Real Object

I find that when I have frustration and turmoil in one part of my life, I most often compensate for that by making things: cooking, baking, sewing, knitting, etc. It is a good time for Cora to decide her dollies need a throne, because I will find a way to make one. It is a good time for Bon Appetit to declare they have the best-ever brownie recipe, because I will try it out. It is a good time for mutter paneer cravings!

Red onion and friends - ready for curry!

I tend not to examine this too closely. I know it has something to do with control and satisfaction and compartmentalization. It works for me. So, I have been in a frenzy of making for about a month now, you may have noticed.

Another dog.

Last weekend, I made progress on a couple sewing projects, and some knitting ones, and even some writing ones. But one in particular was special. I have a little muslin, drawstring project bag for knitting that I really like. But I tend to work on more than one project at a time, and I kept thinking maybe I should buy another one. Then I decided that was ridiculous, because I have muslin. Surely I could make something myself?

Hat from Noro Silk Garden yarn - love it!

And then I started thinking about how plain muslin is, and what could I do to enliven it? I remembered this beautiful poppy ribbon I bought, oh, maybe eight years ago, and never could bear to use. So I went upstairs and found the ribbon and the muslin and sketched out a pattern. Then I thought it could use a lining. I looked over at the bins of fabric, and there was a fabric, pressed up against the side of the bin, just the perfect fabric!

Once again neglected to take process photos -
having too much fun to go downstairs for the camera.

So, then I thought about how it would look if the lining were rolled down over the outside muslin, for extra color and to set off the ribbon. And what if the bottom of the bag was the lining fabric?

The colors are not a perfect match, but I like that.

And then I made the bag. The process wasn't perfect and one corner is a little goofy, but I love my project bag. I love that I figured out how to make it. I love the way it came together, from thinking about buying something, to making my own, better version. I love that I had the time available and that most of the materials were ones I've had for years, just waiting for the right project. Very satisfying!

Noro sock yarn in the bag - but I've ended up using size 0 dpns
instead of the single circular. Socks take me a long time.
More on that later.

ACK!, or "what's that over there?!"

 We will be moving in just a few days. Boxes are everywhere, but there are not nearly enough of them. It would seem that the more time you spend in denial, the less gets done. In lieu of an actual post, I present photos of some things I've made recently.

Rapunzel on her way to the school party, also her last day at her beloved school. While I doubt I will win any wig-making awards with this one, she's pretty thrilled with it.

A new dress, as requested it is down to her feet.

Mmmmmm...pumpkin donuts....

Hard to get a good photo when they keep disappearing!

Knitting coffee sleeves is oddly satisfying.

I thought this fabric would make a cute skirt or dress, tried a new pattern out of a new book, hoped it would be liked.

Mission accomplished.

Vitality - work and collaboration

Tonight I enjoyed a double privilege: being interviewed about my work, and seeing someone I'd only know socially be engaged in her own work with skill, enjoyment, and vitality. For the first part, we are now just under a month away from the premiere of the opera Chris and I have been working on. We are so lucky that the opera is not only going to have a two-performance premiere in the town the opera takes place in, but we will also have a three-performance run in the Twin Cities. For a new American opera, this is incredible, and we are thrilled.

I know this sounds terribly geeky, but I take real pleasure in watching someone work, when that person really enjoys her, or his, work, and especially when I know the person, but not at all in a professional capacity. The woman who interviewed us, and who will be putting together a 30-minute radio program about the opera complete with clips from rehearsals, is someone I know through a friend and have seen at a handful of social occasions. It was fun to see her at work, to see that side of her - especially because she clearly enjoys and is good at what she does.

The opera project has, from the beginning, been a collaboration between Chris and I, between our composer-librettist team and the producer, and now expanding to include the singers, the instrumentalists, the production team. And now expanding again to include another creative person. I can't wait to see how she puts together the things we said with the other interviews she conducted and the songs - how she, in essence, orchestrates her program.

Collaboration can be hard work. Chris and I are lucky in that we already collaborate on so much in building our lives together, and so when we come to a project like the opera, we know how each other works. We know we can trust each other. We know what each others best work looks and sounds like. We have this now built in - instead of having to build it from scratch while the project is ongoing (I've done that - it can be painful and frustrating when it doesn't come easily or when the partners are mismatched). And, when collaboration works - in any field, the arts, business, a family - it energizes every part of the project. This is also what I find exciting about that happens in the classroom, when things are really working.

Waking up

As part of getting our house ready to go on the market and be shown, we took down the curtains in the bathroom. These are curtains that the previous owners had made, roman shade style things, and it had been a long time since they'd last been washed. So...they tore in the dryer. We needed new curtains. Quick. Cheap. I was going to have to make replacements.

The week before I had, reluctantly, packed up my sewing machine. It was in a big box somewhere in the garage.

But I had kept out a couple needles and pins.

So, we went to the quilt store - not the cheapest fabric, but my best chance of finding a fabric I liked - bought a print for the bathroom side and a solid for the window side. I love the print. It just so happens I bought enough to be able to make Cora a little dress sometime. I don't know how that happened. And that night I sat and sewed the new shade by hand.

That was about two weeks ago. Now, I have itchy fingers. I want to make something. I'm wishing I had some scraps of fabric - I am thinking about making a little old-school doll quilt. Something handsewn. From templates. Something scrappy and sweet.

I've also been reading, finally. During the year I kept up with what my classes were reading, and I would read an article online now and then, some other blogs, but not what I would call real reading. I mean, for the last several years I've averaged between 65-70 books a year, and last year it was far fewer than that. And it has taken a while for me to feel ready to take a book back up in a serious way - a novel, not just a "candy bar" (don't get me wrong, I love the candy bars). But in the last week...I've read three good novels (thank you, public library!). Atwood's The Year of the Flood, Dan Chaon's Await Your Reply, and Walter Mosley's The Man in My Basement.

And, now it feels like my brain is settling back into place. I'm thinking about writing again. I'm thinking about what else I want to read. I'm thinking about who I am, who I want to be. I feel like the last ten months have been about being who I needed to be - similar to the time right after Cora was born, actually, though that felt more biologically-driven, and this more recent experience felt more driven by logic, by what I knew rather than felt had to be done. I'm still thinking through all this, still feeling out the shape of it, but it's good to have a start at the distance to see it more clearly.

That's right, I MADE a dog!

A lot of the dissatisfaction I have been feeling in recent months has had to do with how nearly impossible it has become to find time to *make* something. I made some fingerless gloves for myself around New Year's, with some yarn I had ordered online and then ordered Chris to give me for Christmas. Then I made a pair for Cora, who implied she might die a horribly whiny death if I didn't know her something immediately. Gratifyingly, she wears them almost every day. Then I made a pair for my grandma (which resulted in my mom buying me yarn so I could make her a pair, and my grandma commissioning a pair for an aunt).

When I was visiting my mom recently, I saw an ad in one of her quilting magazines for a book called "Sew Me, Love Me" - the cover appealed to me and I thought it would be good browsing, and my local library had the book, so I picked it up when we got back home. This past Saturday, Cora and I snuggled up on the couch to look through the book. She spotted a dog she especially liked and asked if we could make it.

I was pretty sure I had everything I needed already in-house, including socks I no longer was wearing (heel holes) that could serve as a body. So we headed upstairs and chose our materials. At this point Cora lost interest in the process and while I cut out the pieces, she completely unpacked her dresser and spread her clothes in piles all over her room. This had something to do with a dance performance she was planning, but we never got that far.

In short, I made a stuffed doggy this weekend, and while I can see the ways I would do it differently next time, and have some other ideas, I like this little dog. I think she's pretty cute. And, considering I have not attempted a stuffed creature in quite a few years (I think jr. high was the last time), I'm also pretty proud.

I read a number of blogs by creative, crafty people, and often I have envied their "I wanted to make this so I looked around and found the stuff and did it!" capabilities. Making this little pup brought me some delight of a kind I've been missing. It felt good to realize I had everything I needed. It felt good to realize I certainly had the sewing skills to do this quickly. It felt good to watch the dog take shape. It even felt good to do it all by hand!

And, does she like her new doggy? After about 36 hours of deliberation, she named her Alyssa.

More made things: a photo essay

Finally - some pictures!

I made these tartlets for poetry group the day we met on Christine's birthday. What is exciting to me is that a) it's the first time I've used the little tartlet pans I bought a couple years ago, and b) it isn't a recipe, just an idea I had and then made. Oh, and, local little sweet strawberries I bought at the farmer's market.

I made this top for Cora from a pattern I found on a really cool blog that a friend told me about. I am not really a garment sewer - I mainly do quilts and things like that - but for Cora I don't mind sewing clothes. First of all, she loves it when I make her things (see below), and secondly, it doesn't have to be perfect. Her peer group is not going to judge her harshly if her clothes are obviously homemade. They might even be a little envious. (Well, especially with the Peter Rabbit fabric!)

And the hair? She wants it up like that ALL THE TIME. She brings me her barette and says, "Mama, do my haircut!"

So, this is not a very realistic picture of the Scary Garden - you have to imagine the waist high weeds and volunteer trees that were there before Chris cleaned it up. This space used to have a carport, so there's also lots of gravel mixed in with the weeds. Still, this is what the patio guys had to work with when they showed up Tuesday morning.

Here, they're almost done. It's about 3pm on Tuesday at this point.

Here it is! We have to let the sand settle and then decide what to do with the edges - sod? grass seed? marigolds? Suggestions?

There was a lot of sand leftover - right now just a big pile on the driveway. We're trying to find a sandbox. Apparently if you want a sandbox, you have to buy one in May, because the stores send them all back in June. Grr.

And, finally, a gratuitous Cora picture. I thought the zebra towel would be a good thing to have in her lap during a messy pasta dinner. She wanted to look like Mommy after a shower. And then the green glasses came out. In all the other pictures she is also sticking her tongue out like some bizarre heavy metal babushka granny.

Photo shortage

Remember when my laptop and camera stopped speaking to each other? That may just have been a harbinger of things to come, because now the laptop won't speak to anyone. I'm hoping to have it fixed soon. I'm hoping to get around to downloading photos upstairs (which involves remembering to bring both camera and cord up with me)...because I have some great ones!

Our backyard is slowly becoming more hospitable. Saturday night we had friends over for wading pool-grilling-deck-based fun. And it was fun. And I was grateful all over again that Mom and Dad left their old fridge in our garage because it is pretty sweet to be able to wander into the garage and emerge with a vodka-limeade cooler.

Today the patio project begins. Chris has worked this week on clearing out the underbrush. Now the professionals take over, with their dumpsters and Bobcats and knowing what to do. Soon, there will be no Scary Garden there, just a really nice patio to relax on when the deck is too sunny.

Did I say there would be no Scary Garden? How foolish. The name will just move on to the second scariest garden...which has, no doubt, long been plotting it's assumption of the title.


In Coraland: Her friend Selma just became a big sister to a baby brother. We saw him for the first time at church yesterday. Cora and I came home, she napped, and when she woke up she informed me that Baby Tidoo is now her baby brother. She keeps asking me what baby brother's name is, and when I suggest a name, she says no. When I ask her what his name is she says "don't know". I feel like we are playing a very bizarre existential game.