Stitches and Songs between the Seasons

This is the between-time of seasons. The summer farmer's markets end and the autumn rains begin. My daughter is in public school now, as our homeschool adventure was a short but enriching experience that was never meant to be more than a necessary stop-gap. I've had to let go of some friends who were dear to me, but I've also made new friends with whom I will travel as far as we are willing to go. There is heartbreak and beauty, painful growth and glorious song.

After many months of simply floating along, my Alkelda Dolls shop finally has offerings in the double-digits.In addition to listing some old favorites with new variations (Rainbow Queen, Lydia Purpuraria, Grey Knight), I have the red leaf, yellow leaf, and milkweed pod babies to share with you. One of my early childhood memories is of my mother breaking open a milkweed pod in late summer to show me the silky seeds inside. She often showed me things in the natural world that seemed wondrous. (And really, they were.)

Yellow Leaf, Milkweed Pod, Red Leaf Babies

I am attempting to bring some focus to the new wealth of music I've been exposed to this last month. I continue to work on improving my guitar skills as well as finding lovely melodies on the ukulele. I find that, when I play the uke, it is impossible for me to settle into a melancholy mood. The documentary The Mighty Uke is a delightful introduction to the history and resurgence of this instrument. While I wish I had indeed brought my ukulele to guitar camp, I am glad that my uncle got to be my first teacher.

Today, I am playing on the ukulele Fisherman's Blues by the Waterboys. Here are the chords to the song: G, F, A minor, C. Repeat!

The Daily Ukulele

Happy summer! I had the honor and privilege of attending the Puget Sound Guitar Workshop a few weeks ago, and found rejuvenation and inspiration among the Douglas firs, amid which one could hear strains of strings and joyful voices during almost all day and evening hours. In addition to taking classes from the talented, humorous, and all-around Good People Joe Miller and Cara Luft, I was inspired by ukulele musician James Hill (from whom I did not take a class, nor did I participate in one of his jam circles) to pick up the much-neglected Flea my mom got for the family years ago when Dan Zanes recommended it to help jumpstart the ukulele revolution.

This is a B7 chord.

This past weekend, I visited my aunt and uncle on Orcas Island, where there were a couple of ukes and guitars hanging out. My uncle brought up how great the uke was, and said, "You cross-train on days when you don't run, right? The uke is cross-training for your guitar, and you will learn things you don't learn on the guitar." I was convinced! We practiced for a couple of days and performed for the family "Wade in the Water," "When the Saints Go Marching In," "Tiny Bubbles," and the Beatles' "I Feel Fine." (My uncle to the family: "Tight harmonies on the singing." Me to the family: "And if you can't do tight harmonies, sing with exuberance.")

I picked up a copy of the ukulele songbook my uncle had, called The Daily Ukulele.  This morning, I practiced the chords for The Sunny Side of the Street, a melody I've played for years as my joyful, get-up-and-go theme song. Out in the street, I could not help but sing it and dance-skip. My daughter called out, "Everybody, this is not my mother."

I'm an embarrassing parent who dances and sings in public. I couldn't be more proud. It's not about my daughter's mortification. It's about my liberty from the "sobriety of my youth."

Indie Artist Spotlight Feature, Courtesy of Jama's Alphabet Soup

This is a time where my tactile creative projects have stilled. In terms of the doll-shop, I have some custom orders in the works, but the time in which I sit down at the desk to sew is scattered. I currently have a completed Goth Queen, but the pattern pieces for a Snow-White inspired doll are waiting for me to bring them together. I enjoyed making a fireworks doll a few years ago, and want to make another one, as that doll sold quickly before most people had time to see her in the shop.

Therefore, I am gratified and honored that Jama Rattigan of Jama's Alphabet Soup featured my shop in her Indie Artist Spotlight series. Those of you who know Jama personally or through her blog are aware of how vibrant and passionate she is about books, food, textiles, films, authors, illustrators, and bloggers. I hope to meet her in person someday, and make both sweet and savory æbleskiver/ebelskiver, as promised.

In the meantime, here is the post:
Indie Artist Spotlight: Farida Dowler of Alkelda Dolls

Who knows what's in the bag?

On falling and getting up again

Many of my days are spent homeschooling and training for Seattle's Rock and Roll half marathon/21k in June. The schedule will change in a few months, as Bede and I anticipate Lucia attending a new school this September. Part of me will be relieved to have my own thinking time again, but I will also miss the flow of the days. Bede and I know now that homeschooling can be an option again in the future. We have resources, and the unknown is a little less mysterious in that regard.

I found this partial blog post in draft form, written at the end of March.

Last Sunday, I ran my second 10k race in 60 minutes and 4/10 of a second. I've got a hilly first half marathon scheduled for the end of June, and am casually glancing at the relatively flat See Jane Run event three weeks later. However, I am cautious, not because of the distances, but because of the various injuries that have cropped up over the past year. They are minor but persistent, probably as a result of ambitious over-training. I joined a running training program in January, and am taking part in another one for the half marathon.

One thing I've learned this past year is that, when I train, I need to be patient. A constant, "Step it up! Push it!" approach leads to me injuring myself. Every time I've fallen was a direct result of pushing through fatigued muscles too quickly.

The fall I took two weeks ago was a reminder of my physical limitations. I loathe "You can do anything you want if you just set your mind to it" platitudes. It's one thing to start out with self-defeating "I can't do it" attitudes, and another to recognize that we all begin at different places, with different bodies and innate abilities. I appreciate my current fitness levels, and want to continue to improve to the best of my abilities. (But actually, I do want more.)

Not long after I wrote those paragraphs, I had a rough speed workout in which I was in so much pain that I probably should have taken a rest day instead of showing up for practice. My pace group mentor waited for me after everyone else in the pace group had headed back, and said encouraging things to assure me that we were all here to have fun and that speed didn't matter. Nonetheless, I worried.

Fortunately, a couple of days of self-care (foam-rolling, TriggerPoint Therapy, ice, ibuproferin, and AC/DC) were enough to bring me back to hope and strength. I have given myself permission to take naps when I can fit them in, rather than trying to squeeze in one more task.

Roz of Run Sister Run has a post that resonated with me: May you be accepting. It's a hard lesson, one which I have to learn again... and again.

Gravity is the force...

Bede and I are homeschooling Lucia for a semester and into the summer. There is a good chance she will enter a local public school next autumn. For now, we are all taking this opportunity to focus on academics, life skills, and arts for which we previously didn't have time. Her style of note-taking thus far incorporates sketches with definitions and phrases jotted down.

 Here is Lucia's sketch for "Gravity is the force of attraction between any two objects that have mass." Click on the photo in order to enlarge it.

White Stripes vs. Voldemort

My daughter's focus on all things Harry Potter and LEGO has not shifted so much as it has encompassed a new interest: The White Stripes. Tonight, she paid Jack and Meg White a high compliment by creating their likenesses in LEGO. Here they are, merrily playing "The Hardest Button to Button," when Voldemort comes along to try to spoil everyone's fun:

White Stripes vs. Voldemort

Of course, even the dire machinations of He Who Must Not Be Named cannot thwart power guitar chords and ear-splitting solos:

Voldemort defeated

By the way, my daughter has not read all of the books in the Harry Potter series. She says she hopes that Voldemort will not die, but will just turn good. Once, I heard my daughter playing with her LEGOs, where she had Voldemort say, "I'm not evil anymore, but I am still a bit mischievous."

Ice on wheels

Thanks to Bede, I have been able to arrive on time (yea, early) both to yesterday's and today's storytelling gigs. Seattle's "cold spell" would make parts of the country scoff at us for our relatively mild weather, but we don't plug in our cars to warm them up, nor do many of us have garages. Each morning, Bede has helped me scrape the windows and open the necessary when the locks were frozen. This morning, he showed me the effects of the water that had leaked into our trunk:

Fortunately, we didn't need our spare tire today.

Bunny in a Bowl

Today, I share with you the Bunny in a Bowl video. All you will see is a sound-free clip of a bunny sitting in its bowl and eating its food. I am reminded of the miniature black rabbit my mom brought home when I was eight. I named him Shadrach, after the book of the same title by Miendert DeJong, illustrated by Maurice Sendak.

After Shadrach came the teddy bear hamster Meshach, and the mouse Abednego (whom I picked out along with a mouse we named John). We had thought Abednego was male, but then Johnson and Hester came along. We separated the boys and the girls, but once again, we were wrong. Abednego had several litters of babies. Some of the babies went to the pet shop, but others escaped. When we moved from that house, I'm sure the renters after us were amused.

Dear LEGO Group...

Lucia gave me permission to share her letter and picture that she made and wrote for the LEGO company. J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter books (1-3 thus far) and LEGO sets have been her twin passions for the past several months, and she was thrilled beyond measure when her grandfather gave her the last twenty dollars she needed to purchase the Hogwarts LEGO castle set for which she'd been saving. Even though Lucia has not yet read Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, she has been fixated upon the bright pink Dolores Umbridge mini-figure. The mini-figure is rare, and the House of Glee has deemed that the asking prices from the various online marketplaces are unreasonable.

Today, Bede suggested that Lucia write a letter to the LEGO company to request a reissue of the figure. At least, then, Lucia will have done something besides repeatedly bemoan the preposterous asking price for the mini-figure. (Bede and I wish that LEGO would say, "Hey, that's a great idea!" and the marketplace merchants will suddenly find that they have a lot of extra, hard-to-sell pink plastic on hand. Wishing is free, after all. )

Here is the letter that Lucia wrote to accompany the picture:

Dear LEGO group, 
I like Dolores Umbridge's minifigure. I wish you could reissue her. I also want you to make a new set called Dolores Umbridge's office. I drew it on another piece of paper. I really like the creativity you put into sets. Why is there a snake in Hogwarts 2011 and why is there a rat in the astronomy tower in Hogwarts 2010? Why was there a gold stud in Freeing Dobby? The owl droppings [in the Hogwarts castle] are really funny.

From,
Lucia of the House of Glee

Father Christmas with Royal Snow People Dolls

Choir dress hemming season has started, so I'll be busy with that task over the next couple of weeks. I did manage to stitch a few festive December themed dolls before then: two Father Christmas figures (one in "historical" green, one in ultra-modern red), plus King Winter and a Snow Queen/Snow Child set. Nushkie Design needle-felted the little Christmas tree for me.

Today is the first time in a long, long while in which I've taken a sick day. It just so happens to coincide with my "rest" day (that is, the day after a long run in which I'm supposed to let my muscles recover). I am hoping that I will rally in time for the practice Girls on the Run 5k tomorrow, for which I'm a volunteer Running Buddy, and a storytelling gig on Friday. For some reason, I always seem to struggle with a cold right before a storytelling gig. I've had to sing in the lower register for the past three months.

**A wee voting rant**

U.S. residents are voting in today's general election. Washington State does absentee voter ballots, so I sent in my choices awhile ago. I was indignant that Bede got a postcard from a PAC in Washington, D.C. chiding him for voting in only two of the last five general elections. Bede became a naturalized U.S. citizen in May 2010, and was only eligible to vote in two of the last five general elections. Why should I be surprised, though? Bede also received a call to jury duty before he became a U.S. citizen, whereas I was called after I'd moved out of the state where I was supposed to report. Clearly, the system needs a little polish.

Sometimes we're wise, sometimes we're not

I was a little older than this when I started reading Dune.

Years ago, my mom asked her children, "What is the point of my having lived through and experienced hard things if you refuse to learn from them?" My mom was/is the sort of person who suffers on behalf of her children, and I've picked up the habit.

My nine-year-old thinks she knows better than me, just as many times, I thought I knew better than my mother. Sometimes my mom was right, and I benefited from her experience.* Other times, I went out of my way to prove that I knew myself better than she knew me. The summer I was eleven, I remember writing home with glee, "Dear Mom, you said that if I couldn't get through The Fellowship of the Ring, I would never get through Dune. Well, you're wrong."

My daughter has noise-canceling headphones to help her deal with over-stimulation at school. She wears them sometimes, but hasn't yet gotten into the habit of wearing them at the times she needs them most. Today, during pick-up I told her this story from my librarian days:

One afternoon, when I was working at the adult reference desk, a man approached me to say that he had tried to send a job inquiry through email, but when he hit "Send," he lost the email. He had had used up his allotted hour of internet time, too. He didn't even ask for help, just stood there and looked at me with shy helplessness. I grabbed a guest code to grant him another hour of computer usage. I said that this was not the usual protocol, but that I wanted him to be able to redo his job inquiry email.

I showed the man the Microsoft Word icon on the desktop of the computer and, "This time, open up a blank Word document, and type out your email there. Then, you can copy and paste it into your email. If your email doesn't send, and you lose that email draft, at least you have the typed-up Word document." I got him set up at the computer, and went to help other patrons.

 At the end of the hour, the man came up to me again. "I tried to send the email again and lost my email," he said.

"Oh, that's frustrating," I said. "Did you type up your email in Word first so that you have a copy?"

"No," he replied.

This interaction happened years ago, and I've forgotten the aftermath. (I suspect the man needed a few hours of computer instruction that was outside the scope of my library shift.) I have always remembered the lesson I learned, though: use the tools I have, and if I know I need help, use the tools others have given me. If I choose not to use the tools others give me, that's my decision, but I need to take responsibility for my choices, regardless.

I learn a lot from my daughter. It's my hope that she learns from me, too. When she makes choices that that goe against her best interests, though, there are times when I need to back off and let her deal with the consequences. 

 *Some adults were wrong so often that, by the time their advice could have mattered, they'd shot their credibility. When those people give me unsolicited advice today, my first reaction is to suspect the opposite is true. It's startling how often that turns out to be the case.

September gleanings

It's almost a month since my last post. I've dealt with some minor overuse injuries, and am trying to learn from them.

 In the meantime, my daughter's started third grade, and I am easing back into the school year storytelling/doll-making schedule. This autumn, instead of trying to get my training done before my daughter goes to school, I take care of the lunch-making duties for everyone while Bede draws at 6 am. (Just so you know, Bede has made breakfast for everyone almost every day for the past 10 years.)

After Bede brings the girl to school, I exercise, run errands, and then settle down to sew or work on stories. I try to get housework done, too. This is the pattern: when I am uninspired, the house is cleaner. When I am in the midst of a project, the dust-bunnies gather, the kitchen floor gets sticky, and people have hastily thrown together meals. I'm trying to work on balance, but so far, have only been able to find it in tree pose. (That's a little arch, but I couldn't resist.)

My newest dolls are two guitarists:



Lefty and righty

In other news, my inspiring friend of the week is The Jogging Clydesdale. You may read his 5k race report here, and his rant about the 5k haters here.

62:12

Yesterday, I ran the Lake Union 10k in 62 minutes and 12 seconds. On average, that's 10 minutes and 2 seconds per mile-- not bad for a person who said over a year ago to a friend, "I. Do. Not. Run." The smile you see on my face is the post-run elation of having trained for a challenge with focus and drive. Of course the endorphins came out to celebrate. In the back of my mind, I thought, "This is great! What's next?" Goals keep me going.

Two weeks before the race, I had a minor overuse injury that sidelined me for five days. I walked during that time, but I also rested quite a bit-- more than I had in a long time. When I began to run again, I did "easy" 11 minute miles.

How did an eleven minute mile become easy? In college, I ran 20 times around the gym in fitness class, and it took me 24 minutes-- longer than it would have taken me to walk one mile.

Good shoes helped. Thanks go to Fleet Feet Sports in Seattle for taking the time to fit my wide feet with supportive shoes and inserts. (Minimalist shoes are for other folks!) For years, I struggled through gym classes where every running step sent little shocks up through my feet.

Perseverance helped. I thought that since running appeared to be easy for other people, it mustn't be my sport. I wish I had learned to be an advocate for my own fitness much earlier on. My motto is, "Still not the fastest." What of it? I'm not racing anyone but myself.

When I strained muscles, balm with cayenne-pepper oil helped. Ice-packs helped. Gentle yoga and a foam roller were essential for self-care. I was (and am) grateful for the emotional support of specific family and friends. Bede didn't grumble when my alarm went off 30 minutes before his own, and often, I returned from my training to find a poached egg on toast just about ready for my post-run protein boost.

Yesterday, after I passed the finish line, my daughter ran up to me and said, "Wow, Mommy! You weren't even the slowest runner!" No, I wasn't. I was in the middle of the pack. Someone had to be the slowest runner, though, and I am proud of that 1,058th person. That person showed up, ran 6.2 miles in over two hours, and finished the race.

Pimm's Cups

In which a friend of mine displays a Pimm's Cup of my creation

Greetings! I write this as Seattle experiences one of its heat waves, i.e. temperatures in the high 70s and low 80s. Last week, I made the alcoholic summer fruit cup Pimm's Cups for friends. I first learned of Pimm's Cups through Tanita S. Davis' historical fiction book Mare's War. If not for Tanita, I would still be shaking Ramos Gin Fizzes (and shaking, and shaking....)

 People's preferences for what actually goes into a Pimm's Cup differ greatly, though there is a consensus that one starts with Pimm's No. 1. Some people like the fizzy soda used to be lemon-based, while others prefer a ginger counterpoint. I am a fan of ginger beer.

 I've experimented with a number of different recipes to come up with a concoction that has delighted my summer guests thus far. Please feel free to add, modify, refute, hotly contest, or otherwise enrich the discussion of How To Make a Proper [Fill in the Blank With the Recipe of Your Choice].

 To make one Pimm's Cup as seen in the photo, you will need the following:

 1.5 ounces of Pimms' No. 1
.5 ounces Hendrick's gin (though other gin will work, too)
 2 ounces ginger beer
2 strawberries
1 orange wedge
1 slice of cucumber
borage flowers (optional, for garnish)
1 orange twist for garnish
1 English cucumber circle (for garnish)
ice
salt
mint leaves

Regarding the mint, I meant to use mint for muddling and for garnish, but alas, I forgot to add it. I was showing off by assembling the drink from memory.

 Directions for assembly:

1. Cut a length of orange peel (2-3 inches) and curl it around a bar spoon or something else that will give it the cork-screw curl... or not. If you do, be sure to prepare the garnish over the glass so that the glass catches the All Important Citrus Oils.

 2. Muddle the fruit and cucumber slice (plus 2 leaves of mint, if you are using it) in the glass in which you will serve the drink.

 3. Shake the alcoholic spirits with ice in a shaker until the liquid is cold.

 4. Pour the alcohol through a strainer into the glass with the muddled fruit.

 5. Add 2 ounces of chilled ginger beer, and mix.

 6. Cut a notch in the the cucumber circle, roll the edge in salt of a fine grain, and affix the cucumber to the side of the glass.

7. Add a few optional borage flowers to the mixture as a perky reminder that the drink started out with the beautiful bright blue flower as the garnish of choice before the cucumber showed up. 8. If you remembered the mint, add a perky sprig to the fruit cup. If you can't find Pimm's, here is a link that has a recipe to a Pimm's "cheater." I haven't tried it, but if you do, let me know how you like it.

Getaway

The photo you see is one I took in Olga Village on Orcas Island (San Juan Islands, Washington State). For years, I've shied away from parades, but I think I would have enjoyed the Olga Daze Parade. My friend and I showed up on the island on Sunday, so we missed the Olga Daze blackberry pie.

This trip was the first time I'd been away from immediate family since KidLitCon II in 2008, when Adrienne and I explored downtown Portland. We stayed with my aunt and uncle, who live on the island part of the year.

Highlights of the trip included:

* I got to spend time with my friend and get to know her better sans kids.

* The first day of our trip, my friend said, "How do you feel about getting away from civilization? Let's go for a hike."

*After the hike, we drove into town, where I revealed that I really wanted to try the 2 different Nanaimo bars (link goes to a gluten free version) that had beckoned to me since I first stuck my head in the Home Grown Market. We bought one of each bar (cappuccino and Irish cream), and split them.

*My friend made fabulous salads that were meals in themselves. I didn't do any cooking, but I was pleased to present to my aunt a bourbon sour made with fresh ingredients, including a Rainier cherry garnish in lieu of the traditional maraschino variety. I don't drink many cocktails, but I enjoy reading about them and learning to make them. Therefore, I need people willing to sample my concoctions.

* I got to visit the Bossy's Feltworks studio again and chat with the vibrant, creative ladies who collaborated with me to make last year's nativity sets. I wish I were part of a collective like theirs.

Now, I am back in Seattle trying to focus on work again. There are dolls to make, songs to learn, stories to write, and a 10k for which to train. My husband is starting to worry that after the 10k, I will start training for a half-marathon (13.2 miles, which is a little over two 10k runs). Who knows? I'm forty years old, and I've got Something To Prove.