Seven Years of Blogging

...And lo, today my blog-iversary. When I started a blog in 2005, I had meant it to be only a place-holder so that I could comment on the site of my friend Blogapotamus Rex. I had no expectation of readership, nor of making online friends. By the time I had written my first Children's Books That Never Were post two years later, I had online friends, an active readership, and the storytelling blog had expanded to include music, sewing, and children's books.

My blogging life has quieted down a lot since then. I still maintain my online friendships, and have been fortunate enough to meet some of my blogging friends in person, but I feel like Virginia Lee Burton's The Little House. I'm small potatoes on a small farm.

These days, I perform my storytelling gigs at two main bookstores, and pick up the occasional birthday party. My doll shop, Alkelda Dolls, is the online equivalent of the fresh-produce stand at the weekly farmer's market. I've resumed learning the finger-picking DVD course I started two years ago (I'm still on "Skip to My Lou!"), plus I've finally started teaching myself music theory through Bruce Emery's Musical Principals for the Skeptical Guitarist. I made myself a sticker chart that corresponds with the 40 days of Lent with double points (i.e. double stickers) on Sundays.

Green Springtime Traveler with Sister (wooden foliage by The Enchanted Cupboard)

As I think about my 40th birthday next month, I acknowledge that there are certain plans and ideas of which I need to let go. The thirties did not go as I planned. I didn't write my first novel. I carried my pregnancy weight for much too long. I lost a brother.

But!

I learned to play guitar. I learned to sew. I became more physically fit than I ever have been in all years prior to 2010. I had a daughter.

Plus, and this joy cannot be expressed fervently enough, I made new friends.

Blog Birthday Party?

While I revved up this blog seven years ago today, I wrote my first true blog post on February 27, 2005, with Root Vegetables. It seems fitting that I should do something to commemorate the occasion next Monday. I thought about a giveaway, but I dislike the randomness of picking one person to receive one crafty gift from me. I would make a cake, but few of you would be able to eat it.

I have an idea. I'll see if it comes to fruition. In the meantime, browse the beautiful food pictures I found on Pinterest. Here's what I like about Pinterest: I can admire other people's food creations with impunity. Here's what I don't like about Pinterest: It's a distraction.

I Rethink Valentine's Day

"Heart-shaped tofu! Are you kidding?"

The first year I lived in Seattle was my "gap year" between college and graduate school. I was a full-time volunteer at a daycare center for homeless children, and I lived in a group house in which I was the only one who didn't have a Significant Other. When Valentine's Day came, I decided not to let the smoochiness bother me. However, I exclaimed to a long-distance friend of mine, "Can you believe that Housemate Charlie made heart shaped toast for Housemate Beth?"

My friend laughed and said, "I have to confess, Chris made me heart-shaped tofu."

It was then that I realized I needed to get over my sneering contempt for Valentine's Day smoochiness and reinvent it for myself. The week of Valentine's Day became a time to write letters of appreciation to people and to do something thoughtful and materialistically indulgent for myself. One year, I bought myself an Italian fountain pen. Another year, I bought myself a little red flashlight. I benefited from my good taste in gifts.

When Bede and I got together, we decided we wanted the Valentine's Day Experience. I remember the restaurant where we had dinner, but I don't recall what we ate-- except that when the waiter told us about the heart-shaped chocolate torte, Bede and I said, "Yes, THAT." After dinner, Bede paid the bill and led me out through the large open window.

February 14 must have been warm that year.

As this Valentine's Day rolls around, I've started writing my letters again. I've got presents for Bede and Lucia, because I like to give and make presents. Since Lucia doesn't read my blog, you can peek here to see what I got her by special request. I'm pleased that some of the dolls in my shop are going to be gifts for other people, too.

I've even become resigned to the sugar-overload that's going to happen on Tuesday in my daughter's class. Before every class party, I caution her, "Don't drink the juice-boxes,"* and fill her lunch with fresh vegetables. Which reminds me-- how factual do you think it is that she is the only one to go to school with a healthful lunch every day? She says all the other kids get candy and chips in their lunches. Is she pulling my leg?** Bede and I work to balance Lucia's need to eat food that's good for her with the desirability to be part of social events.

We have no plans for heart-shaped tortes or anything sugary that night. Valentine's Day is a choir day, and Business As Usual. However, I might make heart-shaped tofu. Or steak.

*Sugar + water= what's the point?


**Remind me to tell you someday of Lucia's tall tale about how all the other children brought Barbie Dolls to a Waldorf kindergarten. I had a hard time keeping a straight face.

Creativity, Links, Sprinkles, and Moomins

These links are all related somehow, I'm sure:

Adrienne Furness of What Adrienne Thinks About That made me laugh with The Rainbow Magic Books Are Never Going to End, Are They? My almost-nine year old daughter is attracted to the predictability of the stories, I think. She counteracts the sugary overload of the Rainbow Magic books with the Captain Underpants series, so Bede and I hear about "talking toilets" and "wedgie-women" instead of wands and sprinkles. When does potty-talk stop being funny? Never, probably.
As I was pondering the sweet perfection of petit fours, I asked Tanita Davis if she had ever worked with fondant. Oh, yes she had. Her husband, David Macknet, documents their Fondant Follies here, here, here, here, and here. As commenter Kansas A. noted, "We so often post our successes and hide our failures. It was great to read this."

I posted part one of what I hope to be a blog post series on the Natural Kids Team: Why I Made It: Artisans tell the stories that inspired their creations.

Russian designer Maria Yasko created a series of rooms for a family entertainment center called Moomin Valley, based on the Moomin books by Tove Jansson. The link comes by way of Drunken House.