Fluffy Flowers

for the love of rick rack

Santa Claus was quite nice this year. He brought me several new crafting treasures that I'd be longing for. Ok, truth be told, mostly I had to play Santa Clause for myself but hey, I got exactly what I wanted! And I couldn't resist when my local craft store kept giving me fifty percent off coupons every time I'd go in there.

But sweet Santa did slip that potholder book all wrapped up and pretty under the tree and I've been itching to make some fab potholders for over a month! Can you believe that I don't own any potholders? I've been using the towel hanging on the oven door handle to snatch things out of the heat. And those linen towels are sometimes too thin to do an adequate job!

Ok, strictly speaking I guess I do own a pair of potholders. I found them during the great Rummage and Purge of the Winter of '08. They were shoved way down at the bottom of the kitchen linens cupboard and were scrushed and squashed into near oblivion. Those jokers were stiff little balled up roundness that looked more like modern art than a useful kitchen tool. And they had a funky smell. How they got into that condition I'll never know, but to make a long story endless, I knew I wanted to make my own. And not only did I want to make my own but I was obsessed with the idea of edging them with rick rack.

Now, rick rack is not a trim that I'm very familiar with. In fact, the Ginger Girl I made a couple of months ago was the first time I'd ever used it. I've never even bought rick rack. The sweet and generous Karyn sent me some in a yummy box of crafting goodies quite some time back.

So while I was flipping through my delightful new potholder book I spied several designs that included rick rack. I was smitten! Had to have it! But I needed to figure out how to actually make the magic happen and for some reason I was stressing out about sewing on that rick rack. I just kept fretting about it and putting the project off over and over again.

My procrastination was full of excuses like I couldn't find the right fabric. Uh, there are four, six foot tall bookcases in my studio stuffed to the gills with fabric. Clearly, fabric wasn't the real issue here. Somehow I'd built up the fear of the rick rack in my mind until it became this sort of big, dark unseen monster in the closet. Lucky for me this monster wasn't the mean, sharp toothed, snarly kind. It was, in fact, a big overgrown teddy bear who only wanted to be let out and brought to the table for milk and cookies.

So I took that big ol' burly monster fear by the hand and lead him out to the craft table were he sat with me while I searched and found the perfect fabric. This turned out to be a few scraps of a left over pillowcase from which I'd used to make a zipper pouch.

It was pretty and inspirational and just exactly right. And practically right next to it was an old blanket that I cut up and used for the insulating material. So I forged ahead, the monster next to me all the while, as I pinned that rick rack, then basted it, then finally took the plunge and sewed the layers together.

Now all I can say is, wow, I love these potholders. Love them! They are so pretty and so perfect and I love to look at them. For now I have them hanging at my eye level on the refridgerator so that I get a surprise jolt of joy every time I see them there. Eventually they'll migrate over to the stove area but for now I'm just happy to see them there.

And that monster fear? He wasn't ready to move on just yet so he quietly slipped off while I was deep in concentration bent over that beasty sewing machine. I'm pretty sure he moved back into the dark closet but I think he's pretty far back in there so I won't stumble on him when I snatch open the door. But I'm glad to know where I can find him for the next time I want to invite him out for an afternoon snack as I try my hand at something new and scary.

walking in the woods

Took a nice, long walk in the woods this weekend over at Cochran Mill Park just south of Atlanta.

It was a bit foggy out there.

But the woods were wide open and the trail was clear.

There was a pretty carpeting of plant material on the forest floor.

And lots of evidence that beavers live along this creek.

Not too many changes to the map.

But I did see some whales out in the woods.

A big mama whale and her baby.

Plus a humpback whale coming up for air.

It's a rugged hike out to the end of the trail. But this is your reward.

A beautiful waterfall that you can get right up close to.

Just walk out onto the big rocks and you're in the middle of the creek.

It was a fabulous day.

kitchen surprise

This year I'm bound and determined to do a bit more decorating around the ol' home stead.

I've been slowly but steadily acquiring pretties from thrift shops, antique malls, and, of course, Etsy. I bought this delightful stoneware mug set from LaVogue.

And I've also found a few quirky things that give me a little giggle. Like this little fellow here for example.
 

Somehow I think it's kind of funny to tuck him away down low where you might get a little jolt and then a laugh when you notice him!

A Body to Die For

I swear y'all, reading is not the only thing I've been doing lately! But it does seem that that's all I have time to blog about these days. If you're looking for a little lighthearted fun reading give A Body to Die For by G. A. McKevett a go.

Probably having too much fun all the way around to blog. I'll see if I can be better about it next week.

Anyway, reading is oodles of fun when you've got a cute Slash kitty for company.

the girl who stopped swimming

When I started reading this book I absolutely could not put it down, not even to exercise. So I fitted it on the rack of my brand new treadmill and carried on huffing and puffing up the inclines all while my eyes were riveted to the page.

I saw Joshilyn Jackson speak a few months ago at the Decatur Book Festival. To say she was entertaining is an understatement. She spoke to a packed house full of devoted fans, myself included, who hung on her every word. I enjoyed hearing her so much that I made sure to see her again when she made it to my own small town for a writer's conference. At that time I'd only read Between, Georgia and had no idea that her next novel was patiently waiting for me to relish and enjoy.

The girl who stopped swimming is a ghost story. But these ghosts are the ones that haunt you when you're alone and you let your guard down enough to see what might really be happening around you. Is it real or a trick of the mind? And if it is a trick, doesn't that still make it real? Joshilyn carries us swiftly through this story of secrets held and of relationships with sisters, husbands, mothers, fathers and ourselves without letting us stop to take a breath. Without letting us stop and look around us to really see. In a way, she forces us to experience what our main character, Laurel, does. And Laurel must somehow recon with the ghosts that push hard against her blinders.

This is not a story for the faint of heart. The tragic death of a young girl is the center around which this book travels. And mirrors will be held up in places that are frankly, painful. There are two types of folks who will enjoy this book, those that enjoy good story telling (i.e. everyone!) and those who grew up poor in the rural south. To the latter group I say, when you see yourself here in this book, know that I see myself too.

Guide to the Birds of East Africa

Just exactly what have I been doing with myself lately? I've certainly been MIA in the blog world. You already know I've been straightening and pitching out and cleaning like a mad fiend. But I've also managed to spare a moment or two to squeeze in some reading and, at long last, some knitting.

It's been a good long while since I picked up the sticks and string and went at it. Many of you might not even know that knitting is my first and foremost craft love. I taught myself when I was a teenager and even though I tuck the needles and yarn away for often months and sometimes years at a time, I still manage to find my way back to it eventually. Now it seems that I'm on a sock making bender. I can't get enough of socks, socks, socks. Beautiful yarns in tasty hand dyed colors are making my mouth water and this pair in chili pepper colors are my latest.

The socks are for car trips but the reading is for any moment I can find to tuck it in. Before the holidays I swept my local library for reading material. I came away with a pile of books, one of which was A Guide to the Birds of East Africa by Nicholas Drayson. I must admit that this is not my typical book and that I was swayed to slip it into my stack by the pretty birds on the cover.

This novel is set in modern day Nairobi, Kenya with a short, bald, round, brown man, Mr. Malik, as it's protagonist. Mr. Malik is quite ordinary indeed, having been raised in the usual English boarding school style and now a semi-retired business man. Yet as the story unfolds we find the irresistable, heart of gold Mr. Malik thrown into quite extraordinary circumstances. Watching how he deals with them and, eventually, puts them into perspective is an understatedly delightful journey.

The central them of bird watching initially had me worried since I know next to nothing about birds. But I needn't have worried because it wasn't neccessary for me to enjoy every minute of this book. At it's heart its a love story but not, I'm delighted to say, in the typical way. Drayson is a true storyteller and this is a book definitely not to be missed.

blooming Georgia

It's been very pretty around here lately.

It's been unseasonably warm but I believe all that is about to change!

At least I got to enjoy a few bits of blooms during this warm spell.

where abandoned projects go to die

Happy New Year to all!

This holiday break I've been systematically going through all the nooks and crannies of the house in an attempt to clean up and throw out. I hope to start the new year off all tidy and bright. But it's odd how nearly every cupboard, closet, and drawer has become a place where abandoned projects go to die. Unfortunately, I've had to come face to face with the myriad of failed crafts that truly did seem like good ideas at the time.

In one kitchen cabinet alone I found no less than fifteen abandoned craft projects. And that's just one of several places where I've managed to shove bags, boxes, and plastic containers full of various bits and bobs required for particular projects. I was distraught to see all this evidence of my crafty hopes and dreams squashed in among their brothers and sisters. I can remember the excitement I felt to plan and begin each project and then the frustration and disappointed with each one that I gave up on and relegated to the closet. Some I wished I had carried on with and others I hope to never try again. But it occurred to me as I pulled project after project out to be remembered and examined, that I should really be celebrating these mini disasters. For it was these broken projects that taught me how to be a better crafter. After all, if I hadn't tried any of these projects I would never have had any successes.

Slashables assisting with the cleanup.

So I've made up my mind not to worried about all these red headed step children projects. I'm no longer sad that I tried them or that they got squashed among the closet clutter. I'm not distraught that they didn't turn out as well as I'd hoped for I'm happy to celebrate the fact that I tried them at all. To not have tried them means they wouldn't have failed, that I wouldn't have failed. But for all of these failures there have been many, many successes and without those, I wouldn't enjoy the challenge of creativity. So, really, I want to celebrate these crafty disasters. I'm grateful that I had the time, money, and energy to give them a try. I'm happy that I gave them up when they became too painful or when I hated doing them. I'm glad for all the crafty mistakes I've made so that I can hone in on those crafty things that I really enjoy doing. In the end they've made me a better crafter and that, my friends, is a wonderful way to start a new year!