Thursday, July 30, 2009

Wishful Thinking

I had the pleasure of IM'ing a very dear friend of mine today. She was stressed out about work and whatnot and mentioned that she wishes she could take a two month vacation. A real one. Not one of those quick vacations where you run about trying to sightsee all there is to see and not blow all your money and know that you have to come home to your messy house and a pile of laundry and that you are tired in every bone and need a vacation to get over your vacation. (How was that for a run on sentence?)

No she meant a REAL vacation. The kind people like us don't get to take for a variety of reasons. Between us, we came up with the ideal, relaxing vacation for us. Which we would take together.

Would you like to know what it involves? Of course you would!

For starters, it has to be far away from where we live. She lives on the West Coast, I live in Utah. Far away would be the East Coast. We think Maine. And of course, it needs to be ON the coast.

So, a beach house in Maine. Oh, lovely. This beach house would be older, charming, hardwood floors, BUT it would have one very, very important upgrade. A gourmet kitchen. Now, the friend is not sure she would want to cook, but I assure you I would. For a couple of reasons. One, I would have at my fingertips the freshest seafood obtainable. Oh, the joy! I have had East Coast fresh seafood before, during a delightful sojourn in Charleston, SC. (Possibly one of my most fave trips EVER!) I know whereof I speak. That is some tasty eating. I guarantee I would be inspired to cook. If I had a gourmet kitchen, I would be doubly inspired, since I currently the not too proud owner of a small, non-gourmet galley kitchen.

In addition to the gourmet kitchen, the beach house would come equipped with a sleeping porch, fully equipped with hammocks and cots. Have you ever known the joys of a sleeping porch? Me either, but imagination tells me it is a good thing.

Also, a sittin' porch. With rockers. And hammocks. On both porches, because, you know, some of us might like to rock supine, whilst others prefer to remain upright.

It would be fairly sparsely decorated, I think. Bedrooms painted cool blue with bright white bedding and a few cosy rugs. A front room with an internet connection, but NO TV. A couple of lambswool rugs and a fat couch with a canvas slipcover. Some lazy chairs and a lot of good pillows.

The bathrooms are important. Clawfoot tubs are a requirement, you know. I do know the joys of bathing in an enormous clawfoot tub. I own one. It occupies the vast majority of my tiny bathroom, but I would not trade it. No way.
Clawfoot tubs, with a separate shower.

Oh, I forgot, right off the porch would be a shower tiled in natural rock. For the rinsing off of beach sand, of course. We don't want to track too much of it into the house, it is uncomfortable on bare feet with wood floors.
And in that mode of cleanliness, there would, without a doubt, be a housekeeper. No question there. We are not vacationing to clean house or do laundry or dishes. Heaven forbid!

And last, but hardly least, it would have a well stocked library. This is of the utmost importance. We plan to be very lazy most of the time. Of course, we will work off the abundant extra calories by taking a morning swim in the surf. But the time not spent cooking, eating, swimming or sleeping will be spent reading. All of the books we have been wanting to read but haven't had the time.

It is sort of wrong, you know, to not have the time to read. No, not sort of wrong. Very wrong. I would of course, bring along my knitting. And possibly teach my friend how to knit. She has learned crochet, time to branch out.

What do you think? Does it sound relaxing? I think I will start planning now, I need to save up!


Hello again, and welcome to my blog! It has been a little while, but not as long as last time!
Here are a couple of things to entertain your eyeballs.

First, a delightful pic of The Small One at the wonderful splash park in St. George. We stopped there for lunch on the way to LA and went to the aforementioned splash park to give The Small One a break from the car. Why all communities don't have a place like this is beyond me. It is a dream.

So, without further ado-The Small One:
From Drop Box

Is she not adorable?

Ah, what the heck, how about a couple more?
From Drop Box

From Drop Box

And just to increase the level of adorable-ness? Adorability? Whatever, you get where I am going. Just to am laying in bed with The Small One and she scooched over to me and says-Mamma, I wanna lay fa you. Which translates, I want to lay with you. Which in this case means, I want to lay ON you. I said, in a minute. She said-No, I need a lay fa you. I your little sweetie.

I mean, come on, how do I resist that? So she is currently laying on my right arm, which makes typing a bit difficult. Worth the sacrifice, I gotta tell you.

The Small One, as I may have mentioned previously, LOVES the water. She is a little fish. So, in the late afternoon, when we have a bit of shade in the yard, I let her outside to play with the hose. My flagstone patio has moss growing in it and it needs a great deal of water when the heat index is so high. I turn the irrigation hose on to a small flow and hand it to her and she plays on the patio for a good 20-30 minutes. Sometimes longer. She is happy, I have a chance to clean the kitchen and the moss gets a good soaking.

Well, today, she had, unbeknownst to me, her little doll Georgina out with her. Georgina is The Small One"s fave dolly, probably because she has a voicebox inside so she can laugh and cry (curiously, this is one of the least annoying talking dolls I have ever come across.)

Anyhoo, after playing outside for a good while, she calls me to the door. Yes, Small One? I say. Georgina wet! She need towel, she very cold! Oh, dear. Georgina has a cloth and foam body and the voice box. Not good. I take Georgina from her, remove her dress and try and wring her out a bit, then lay her on the counter. A couple of minutes later, The Small One is at the door again. Mamma! I all wet. I need a towel! I feezing! I grab a towel, strip The Small One down and wrap her up. She lays on the kitchen floor while I finish cleaning. Yes, she does this often, she is a bit odd. I then take Georgina out and lay her in the sun to dry. A few minutes later, The Small One gets up from the floor, drops her towel and goes outside. Um, where are you going? I query. Oh, I dus need wait for Georgina. What? I need wait for Georgina. She get dry. Oh, I see. Well, it is going to take a little while for her to dry. She is going to have her nap out on the table. Oh, okay. And off she trots to watch Sponge Bob, which, oddly, is the only show she will even pretend to watch. Good think I like it.

In case you were worried, Georgina dried out nicely and her voicebox started working again. Whew!

Lately, The Small One has a new food obsession. It is called a cheese hamburger. She loves them. It cracks me up. Every day, I ask her what she wants for lunch. And every day the answer is the same. I want cheese hambugga. And every time I laugh.

She also has a new trick to try and get out of trouble or to try and prevent bedtime. When she gets yelled at or ordered to bed, she comes up to me and puts her little hand on my face, squinches up her face the way you do when talking to a little baby and says Oh, you so cute mamma! You so cute! You a little sweetie! Manipulative? Yes, I think so.

Now The Small One is laying in bed singing a french lullaby at the top of her lungs. CUTE! Of course, she gets all the words mostly wrong, but who cares? You should hear her sing the alphabet!

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Random Thoughts

I have things I think about that aren't really enough to be worthy of a blog post all their own, so I am going to just smush a few of them together here. If you are bored by them, well, go read or something.

First-Do you ever look at other people and their kids and wonder if it is possible that they love them as much as you love yours?

I do.

I see The Small One and, particularly when she is being adorable, I think that I could not possibly love her more. My heart overflows with love for my little girl. I don't have words for how much I adore her. And I look at other people and their kids and think they can't possibly feel what I feel. Their kid simply isn't adorable as mine. Simple fact.

Second-I have a thyroid problem and my meds just got upped for it. Because of the thyroid problem and the meds being too low, I have been wickedly tired in the afternoon. A couple of times, when The Small One has gone down for her nap, I have given in to the temptation and joined her. And that feeling? Where you are so tired that it is an effort to breathe and to lay down in bed and give into is just glorious? You know, where your mattress feels like heaven?

Yeah, that only happens to me in the afternoon. At night? Not so much. I find this quite unfair. I get tired at night, well, early morning. I don't go to bed early and when I do go to bed, it is because I can no longer keep my eyes open, but not because my body feels tired. What a ripoff. I would love bedtime if I felt like I do at naptime.

Third-Why aren't all husbands as handy as The Man of the House? And since they aren't, does it drive their wives crazy? Cause, let me tell you folks, that kid can do pretty much anything. It is kind of bad for my friends' husbands when the friends hear about the stuff The Man of the House can do. They are jealous.

Plus he is good-looking.

Fourth-Sometimes it makes me a little depressed to try on really expensive clothes, because I know I can't buy them. If you have ever tried on a designer jacket or pants, you will know whereof I speak. Wow, the cut, the fabric. It is positively delicious. I love clothes. I wear t-shirts and jeans mostly and I love them (don't get me started on the joys of designer denim) but I am a glam princess at heart. I am just too lazy and cheap/frugal to really do anything about it.

Okay, that is all. Carry on with whatever you were doing previously!

Monday, July 20, 2009

No good, rotten, very bad...

mood. Is what I am in.

My house is disastrous. Disastrous, I tell you.

This is a problem for a number of reasons, the primary one being, I DO NOT LIKE TO CLEAN. In fact, I hate it. Don't get me wrong. I can clean, quite well in fact, but I have never been a neat freak. Usually, if it is sort of tidy, that is good enough for me. But lately? Oh, lately? The mess has been getting to me.

You see, we decided a while back that we really needed to purge some random and various things from our household. I am a packrat, not as bad as the grandparents, but still, I tend to hang on to random stuff. Also, The Small One has outgrown a bunch of her stuff, and is potty trained. This translates to the need to go through her clothes once again, pull out what no longer fits, try to find all the stuff in the next size that has been passed down and get all of that put away. Also, find a box big enough to store all of her diapers, preferably without resorting to the spending of the money. Not an easy task.

I know, it sounds like it should be, but truly, it is mammoth. The child has an insane amount of clothing. That I did NOT purchase, thank you very much. I only purchase thing she needs, although, I do occasionally wonder how she could possibly need anything when one considers the amount of clothing the child possesses.

In addition to switching out the clothes and packing up the diapers, The Man of the House decided to take down the crib and put up the bed. And here is where our problems begin. The storage room is a mess. Plus, we need to remove things from it to purge, you know. So, The Man of the House did not want to put the crib in the storage room and block access even more. So he put it in the laundry room. Which is currently full of stuff that is either being purged, sorted or needs to go in the aforementioned storage room. No room, really, for the crib. So he put it on top of my drying racks. Along with some other stuff.

Also, we decided that The Small One really needs a bigger dresser than the little one she currently has. This necessitated my moving out of my dresser and The Man of The House moving out of his dresser. He moved into a smaller one, I moved into his and The Small One moved into mine. Did you catch that?

So, let me lay this out for you.

The nursery is full of boxes and clothes being sorted. The couch cover from the couch that used to be in the nursery is on the floor. So is the crib bedding. And the box of diapers. And all of The Small Ones shoes. Not to mention the toys and books she likes to play with. Oh, and a bunch of laundry.

The front room has three baskets of dirty laundry in it because there is no room for it in the laundry room.

The laundry room has a crib, several storage boxes and goodness know what else scattered hither and yon, along with some laundry. The dryer is currently vomiting underwear out toward the floor because The Man of the House couldn't find a basket in which to put said underwear.

The office is full of camping gear that got pulled out for a camping trip that wasn't and then not put away because we really need to clean out the storage room before we put more crap in it.

The spare room is a mess because I cleaned out the stuff in the closet and have not yet had an opportunity to haul it to DI. Plus, The Man of the House removed the sheets to have them cleaned and the blankets are piled hither and thither.

Today, I made a vain attempt to clean up the nursery, but I didn't get very far because most of the stuff that is creating the havoc has to go into the storage room, but we really need to clean out the...oh, you get it.

It seems everything hinges on that damn storage room and getting it cleaned out. I guess I know what we will be doing this weekend. Ugh.

Don't even get me started on the state of the bathrooms.

Thursday, July 16, 2009


I am laying in bed next to The Small One in the hopes that she will settle down as it is past her bedtime. When she stays up too late, she gets a second wind and is very wired. So, as I lay next to her, knitting, she pats my head and says, Need take your clippies out? My hair was up in a french twist with those little claws. So I take my clippies out. Need take glasses off? I remove my glasses. Need blankley? She pulls the quilt up to cover me, well, my legs anyway. You all done knitting? I kind of was. I worked a lot today and then helped The Man of the House move some furniture so my carpal tunnel was bothering me. So, I put the knitting aside and tried to decide if I wanted to run next door to my mom's to grab the third Fablehaven novel.

But then, a small body wormed up under my arm. I need cuddles! She lays on my chest and pets my face with her hand. Hi Tawa! You so sweetie! I love my little honey! Can you tell the things I say to her? She lays with her head on my chest for a bit, then raises for a moment. You need kiffes? Well, of course. I always need kisses. Then she proceeds to do her little ritual. She kisses both eyes, then my forehead, then my nose, then my cheeks, then my chin before finally planting one on my mouth. I love her kiffes. They make me smile. Funny thing is, she figured that out on her own. I don't generally kiss her face that methodically. I like to kiss her all over her face at random until she starts to laugh.

She ends by wrapping her little arms tight around my neck and saying. You so pwitty, Mamma! I love you. I love her back.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Well, Hello There!

Have you been wondering where I had got to? Do I still have any readers left? I wonder...
I have written a couple of posts, you know. Rather good ones, too, if i do say so myself. Problem is, when I wrote them, I had a rather iffy internet connection and consequently, lost them both. It made me rather annoyed, and therefore put me off of posting for a bit. But, for better or for worse, I am back. For the minute, anyway.

So, what has been going on, you ask? Well, plenty.

To begin with, we made a sojourn to California to see my maternal grandparents. They are lovely, hysterical people who live on a farm with no animals save a couple of dogs, a kitty and a myriad of spiders. I do not like the spiders. The dogs and the kitty are fine.
We drove first to Los Angeles so I could purchase fabric for my next big project. I will discuss that in a bit. The drive from here to St. George was without incident and we made good time. The Small One behaved herself in the car and we were pleased and had high hopes for the remainder of the drive. Said hopes were cruelly dashed just out of Vegas. Sigh. As we left Vegas, the traffic slowed, and slowed some more. All told, the 9 hour trip turned into 15 painful hours in the minivan. (My mom's, not mine. I don't drive a minivan). Never drive to LA on a Sunday, it is one looooong traffic jam. In the end, our average speed out of Las Vegas was a whopping 28 mph, and I am not kidding.

We arrived in LA, to our lovely hotel in Chinatown, which, I am fairly sure, made my parent rather nervous. But, it was a decent hotel, not too expensive and right close to the fabric district, which was our destination the next morning.

Off we went, bought loads of fabric for the upcoming endeavor and then headed off to some small town north of LA to see my aunt, whom we have not seen for nigh unto 30 years. That was a bit awkward, but there you go. Probably won't see her for another 20-30 years.

From there, we drove up to a small town near Salinas for our yearly visit with the grandfolks. Ah, my grandparents. They are A-1, first class rednecks. Awesome, I tell you. They live on a farm, as previously mentioned, but said farm is not occupied by crops and animals, but instead by outbuildings and...stuff. They are packrats of the highest order, having lived during the Great Depression and been very poor besides. The buildings are full of spiders, which don't bother my grandparents, but sure do bother me! As my grandma says, just smush 'em with a stick and they won't bother you none. Except the very act of "smushing" bothers me. Ewwww.

We stayed a week at the grandparents and enjoyed ourselves nicely. They love The Small One, she entertains them nicely. After a week there, one is rather ready to come home. The grandparents are old and deaf. The TV is always blaring so they can hear it and they keep the house VERY warm. I had a perma headache the entire time, but, you know, that is alright.

After that? Well, mostly just working. I have a decent amount of custom work right now, keeps me busy. Plus, trying to get the patterns done, so I can get the samples done for my new website. Cross your fingers that it works!

The Small One continues to amuse and delight with her witticisms. Here is an exchange I had with her a week or so ago.

She and I were standing in my small bathroom as I got ready for church. She was just messing about and I was doing my hair. Suddenly, plunk! She was on the floor. She whimpered and whined, but I could tell she wasn't hurt, so I told her to get up and quit being a baby. (hehe). She got up, dusted her wee bum off and walked around to the other side of me. I looked down to find her pointing her finger at me with a stern look on her face. "Tawa?" she says. I knew I was in trouble. Yes, Small One? "You push me?" No, Small One, I did not push you. A long pause while she continues to point her finger and stare sternly at me. Then..."Okay." The finger came slowly down and she walked out. I feared for myself. She was ready to put the smackdown on!

Then, a few days ago, I was cleaning house and singing a song. The Small One evidently does not appreciate my musical talents because she kept telling me to stop and be quiet, but I refused. Finally, she came up to me, got her finger out again, pointed it at me and said, Mamma, you need a panks? I asked her why I needed a spank and she told me I was being very naughty and needed to stop. So I did.

The Small One, bless her, loves to be naked, as may have previously mentioned. Yesterday, after she went potty, she neglected to put her pants back on. She trotted out the back door into the yard to play and I asked her what she was doing. "I naken!" she answered. I told her I was aware of that as I could see her bare bum, but she ignored me. When she came back in for a minute, I picked her up to discover her bum was a bit damp. I asked her if she had peed and she answered yes! So, I asked her where (not really wanting to know the answer) and she got down, walked to the door and pointed out. "Right there!" She says. I guess she figured she was naken, she might as well! When she started talking to the neighbors through the fence, The Man of the House made her put her pants back on. We do have limits.