Crafting

We took the train into the city on a cold Friday morning. Union Station was gothic, beautiful and quiet in the early hours of the day. I sipped hot coffee and the children shared a cinnamon sugar pretzel in the white tiled food court. We walked across the street and into the National Postal Museum inside the Old City Post Office. We spent the next two hours moving back and forth through two hundred years of history. I lost myself in lives lived and lost, my mind filled with their stories. The international stamp collection is stored in a wide wall of skinny vertical display cases, and we thrilled to the variety of sizes, shapes and colors. In a gift shop bin my son found a fat and heavy plastic bag labeled “OVER 500 STAMPS FROM ALL COUNTRIES INSIDE!!” His eyes were bright with excitement so I had no choice but spend the $7US. He held the bag tightly in both hands during the entire train ride home. ...

I finished crocheting my little blue bowl, then wet-felted it and blocked it to dry. Once it was dry I held it in my hands and considered it for a while. The curve inward at the top seemed very protective to me, like a nest. I picked up one of the many bird’s nests we keep around the house and slipped it inside the bowl. The two objects came together as if meant for one another. Tomorrow we will go to the woods and look for more discarded nests that are missing their woolen bowls.

I’m stealing moments here and there between chores this Saturday to create. Pale blue, scratchy wool roving will soon be a smooth, friendly felted bowl to hold treasure.

After building up my courage with coffee and Ella, I spent the morning sewing a hefty curtain to replace the broken bi-fold door of our coat closet. I’d been waiting for five years to cut into this Ikea fabric, and couldn’t have used it for a better purpose, as the length of this curtain really shows off the pattern.

I designed a postcard for my husband’s real estate brokerage. Kind of wonky composition but I like to think that is part of the charm?

I used blurb.com’s book creation software to prepare a gift for our host at Surfside Beach. I wrapped her book in the recycled paper with which I wrapped ceramic bowls at the checkout lane of my IKEA, and finished the wrapping with shells we gathered from the very beach shown in the book. She was thrilled with the gift, and it was passed around the dining room table from guest to guest at her birthday party. You can view a modified (omitting the most personal photos) preview of the book online by going here.

“We are cups, constantly and quietly being filled. The trick is, knowing how to tip ourselves over and let the beautiful stuff out.” — Ray Bradbury, on writing Writing is one of the most important components of our homeschool. I want my children to enjoy their journaling, narrations and compositions, and in my experience the feel of one’s notebooks contributes to the overall appeal, or lack thereof, of the work at hand. The standard, black and white marbled covers of their history, science and language arts notebooks not only threatened to make dull work out of a task that should be meaningful and pleasant, but also threatened to trigger one of my migraines. I covered them up with bits from my fabric stash: hers are covered in a petite Japanese print, his are covered with a bold graphic Ikea print. Their notebooks are now personalized, soft, comforting, ready to receive.

I made a world for them. When I couldn’t find the perfect bunny house for sale, I glued wood and moss and stone, late into the night. I crafted grass, and a pond, and a path between the two bunn[…] I love you. I believe in you. I am so happy to be your mommy.

We’ve decorated our tree (suffering only a few ornament casualties) and had a jolly Saint Nicholas celebration, with our favorite sour cream coffee cake taking the place of the Dundee cake of old. We are reading our favorite Christmas stories. When the kids are at school I am quite busy crafting presents in between bits of “real” work. So much to do yet.

This walleyed draft snake came out of the swirling flokati rug mist and took his place along the bottom edge of our front door, full of kitty litter and all business.