I wrote this a few years ago for a newsletter. It has become one of the favorite stories I have told at writers group. With the kids heading back to school this week, I thought it was a good one to share here now.
It was late September, the kids had been back to school for about a month, and I was
relishing the quiet hours between 9 and 3. Time to work uninterrupted. If the weather was good, I could even get an extra half an hour in as I sent the kids walking to school and let them see themselves home. Why am I unprepared for the onslaught everytime they walk through the door at 3:15?
"Mommy, do you need to go to the store?"
"Sure." I answered, "You can come with me."
She wants a cookie, I thought. I can take a break from this in a while and take her.
Gabrielle offered, "I'll help you make the list." This was her way of getting me off of my project and out the door faster.
"Go ahead, hon." This was my way of staying on my project and helping my first grader become more independent.
"How do you spell asparagus?"
Oh, great! I can focus through a lot of background, but spelling requires all of me.
"Why don't you just write down the first letter of the things we need, and we will remember when we get there?" My idea satisfied both of us. Aisle by aisle in my mind, I named the things we needed, and Gabrielle marked their initial.
When we got to the store, my plan seemed to be working: "A" asparagus, how could we forget? Another "A" for apples, "M" mushrooms, "B" bread, but then she came to a "W." We stopped.
"W," "W," what did we need that started with "W?" Watermelon was out of season. We stood in the aisle between the bakery and the produce wracking our brains. Suddenly, Gabrielle turned toward the deli, and with her finger in the air declared, "I know, wunchmeat!"
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Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Butterfly Manito Park
I think this one would make a neat puzzle. I am looking into doing it in time for Christmas. Perfect for 7-10 year olds on our list. The way this happened was as I was switching out one set of luggage tags for another - setting up for the next photo, Rory wandered off chasing this butterfly. I lost my photographer for a short time but gained lovely photo.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Our version of Gnomes
A man watched us (amused) and finally asked if this was our version of Gnomes. I told him what we were really doing, a photo shoot for an online shop. Thinking about it now, I think I like the gnomes answer better. So on future photo shoots I can entertain myself with that. I am seriously debating letting this case go - I haven't put it in the shop yet. We got some fabulous photos of it which I will edit and add to my Flickr photostream on Monday. It is just so photogenic inside and out. I may have a use for it down the road...especially if I decide to go ahead with some lingerie ideas that are tripping around in my head. We got a lot of great shots today that will be showing up in the shop - new luggage tags and new vintage luggage, also new shots of a few clutches. I am grateful for Rory, who will give up his Saturday to shoot pictures with me. I didn't even grab the camera from him once today.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
At the end of a Summer day forever
I look up to this young woman. Her uniform is a dirty red bikini with a fanny pack full of first aid supplies. She stands on her platform and makes the last announcement of the day through a megaphone. I feel a big "whoo-hoo!" rise up out of me, as dirty red bikini gathers her things. Nine year old Atlantis and her little brother, Roman are visiting from the Eastcoast. I see my smile reflected back at me through her shining blue eyes. "What is it?" Atlantis asks, "What did she just say?"
"The lifeguards are gone," I say. "We can dive off the dock." Roman had been called out of the water earlier by the lifeguard. I watched in amusement as the stocky 2nd grader was made to read the rules. He looks up at me now like I had just handed him a pirate's treasure chest. "We can do whatever we want? Whoo-hoo!" We all run across the sand from the lifeguard stand to the water and swim to the floating dock. First, we rock the dock. Then, we dive. Some kids do flips. The dock is in the shade, so I dive off and head for the log. At 6 o'clock, something magical seems to happen to Lake Pend Oreille. The water, which had been so refreshing all day long, feels warmer. The beach gets quiet as parents leave with their little ones and old people go home to dinner. The lake gets calmer too, like all of those boats just ran out of gas at 6 o'clock.
I pull myself up on the floating log that is loosely anchored to pilings demarking the border between the swimming area and the boating area. I sit facing West, soaking up the sun that will not set until 8 o’clock. I watch the kids playing king of the dock. There is a lot of pushing and a lot of laughter and no injuries. Someones mom makes an alarmed sound from the beach, but no one can make out what she said. Horseplay reigns in that golden hour. I watch some Russian boys with big smiles balancing and knocking one another off the log next to mine. There are signs posted "no standing on logs." Therefore,that is all I can think about: standing tall and diving off this log. I make several unsuccessful attempts to stand on the slippery log before swimming back to the dock. It's Sunday after all, no need to try too hard at anything on a Sunday. Roman has a twinkle in his eye. "I am going to push you off," he says. "Oh, you wanna wrestle with me?" I ask. We lock arms and smile at one another. Rory catches my eye from the beach. "Caleb and Gabrielle, Dad is waving us in. We have to go now." I say. Gabrielle is disappointed, "Aw, mom!" A tall girl who had done the majority of successful shoving on the dock looks at Gabrielle and asks incredulously, "Is THAT your MOM?" "Yup, that's my mom!" Gabrielle gives me a squeeze. Roman manages to push me in as I prepare to dive. Splash! I come up to see Roman jumping up and down, cheering for himself. “You got me!” I said. And I meant it, he got me. They all did—dirty red bikini, Atlantis, Roman, the tall girl, the Russian boys –they got a piece of my heart where they will live at the end of a Summer day forever.
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"The lifeguards are gone," I say. "We can dive off the dock." Roman had been called out of the water earlier by the lifeguard. I watched in amusement as the stocky 2nd grader was made to read the rules. He looks up at me now like I had just handed him a pirate's treasure chest. "We can do whatever we want? Whoo-hoo!" We all run across the sand from the lifeguard stand to the water and swim to the floating dock. First, we rock the dock. Then, we dive. Some kids do flips. The dock is in the shade, so I dive off and head for the log. At 6 o'clock, something magical seems to happen to Lake Pend Oreille. The water, which had been so refreshing all day long, feels warmer. The beach gets quiet as parents leave with their little ones and old people go home to dinner. The lake gets calmer too, like all of those boats just ran out of gas at 6 o'clock.
I pull myself up on the floating log that is loosely anchored to pilings demarking the border between the swimming area and the boating area. I sit facing West, soaking up the sun that will not set until 8 o’clock. I watch the kids playing king of the dock. There is a lot of pushing and a lot of laughter and no injuries. Someones mom makes an alarmed sound from the beach, but no one can make out what she said. Horseplay reigns in that golden hour. I watch some Russian boys with big smiles balancing and knocking one another off the log next to mine. There are signs posted "no standing on logs." Therefore,that is all I can think about: standing tall and diving off this log. I make several unsuccessful attempts to stand on the slippery log before swimming back to the dock. It's Sunday after all, no need to try too hard at anything on a Sunday. Roman has a twinkle in his eye. "I am going to push you off," he says. "Oh, you wanna wrestle with me?" I ask. We lock arms and smile at one another. Rory catches my eye from the beach. "Caleb and Gabrielle, Dad is waving us in. We have to go now." I say. Gabrielle is disappointed, "Aw, mom!" A tall girl who had done the majority of successful shoving on the dock looks at Gabrielle and asks incredulously, "Is THAT your MOM?" "Yup, that's my mom!" Gabrielle gives me a squeeze. Roman manages to push me in as I prepare to dive. Splash! I come up to see Roman jumping up and down, cheering for himself. “You got me!” I said. And I meant it, he got me. They all did—dirty red bikini, Atlantis, Roman, the tall girl, the Russian boys –they got a piece of my heart where they will live at the end of a Summer day forever.
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Monday, August 23, 2010
Stop and smell the butter
Over the weekend, we celebrated Christians 16th birthday at Kells Irish Pub in Post Alley at Pike Place Market. As we came down the hill, Rory and I were both pulled into Le Panier by the buttery scent coming from their ovens. Over the next couple of hours we enjoyed a chocolatine, an almondine, and a napoleon as we strolled the market. The best deal is still these fabulous bouquets for $5. As you can see, this one was exactly my style. I will be writing about this trip for writers group which I will be missing tonight since we are not back on the road home yet. And the post I had intended for today will have to wait until tomorrow, when I am at my own computer.
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
New Logo?
So the heart that I drew with StudioCherie underneath was my logo, but now it feels so "5 years ago." Simplicity is ready for my logo to put on the catalog page and pattern cover. I think I like this. A picture says a thousand words, right? Tell me honestly how you think this would look as my logo on the cover of my patterns.
I think the main objection that graphic designers have to this is that it does not communicate what I do. The way I look at it is that if this is on the product itself, they know what I do, I want to show who I am, and where to find me for more.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Shirtdress Number 1
I can't even tell you how much fun this is to wear. Yes, people look at me, isn't that the point? It makes me feel like a Country and Western star. By that I mean, if I could carry a tune, I would put on this dress and get up on a stage. I will be working this idea over for a while. Future iterations will appear here and on Flickr.
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