Sunday, August 28, 2011

The Perfect Gray

In the guest bedroom at Alena's.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Thanks

I decided to dolly up one of those Beatles cards from the dollar bin at Michael's.  This is what I came up with.  It's a Thank You note for my friend Phil whom I adore.  He showed me a lovely time around town a couple afternoons in Pleasanton (that's somewhere between Awesomeville and Radtown, if you were wondering).

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Friends Far Away

This is what my car looks like in Sacramento
I left my heart in Sacramento.  And Fort Ross.  And Forestville.  Parts in Alameda, and half way up the 5 at the charming vegan Indian restaurant in the middle of nowhere.  I mooed at cows and baaed at sheep while driving the 10 hours alone.  I ruined my "nice" ballet flats.  Lots and lots of meat was consumed.  Pitched a tent alone.  Living by the seat of my pants in the middle (or on the edge) of nowhere.  I learned a few new words in Spanish.  Friends were married- I cried- in a secular ceremony so touching yet only 5 minutes long (perfection!).  I successfully found my way up mountains and through woods and encountered the charm that is Sonoma County.  Being home again feels only a little strange.  

Part of me wishes to be there all the time.

Shadow


Leftovers

Leftover bean...soup?  Dal?  Mishmosh?  Anyway, had leftovers and made this easy lunch with it.  Some of the avocado I was placing on the cooking grilled cheese fell onto the skillet in all the delicious butter and gave me the brilliant thought to drop a little more in and top my beans with it.  Delicious.  Slightly crunchy, all nutty. Mmmm.  Added some yogurt and cherries and it was done.  Perfection.


Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Sacramento

Wine and recipe swapping at Alena's. So in love with this day.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Swedish Baked Potato


Slice, nestle in some garlic, pour a little oil, season with pepper, 425 degree oven for 40 minutes and VOILA! Swedish baked potato.  Or at least my American version of a Swedish baked potato, accompanied by a fried egg sandwich.  Best. Breakfast. Ever.




Saturday, August 20, 2011

The Spread

I apologize for the one blurry picture and lack of more, but it was just such a magical evening I must have been wrapped up in it in real time.  Whatta concept.  My friend Leslie and I don't get to see each other much anymore these days.  Distance, work, and family obligations keep us from doing as many things together as we used to.  So one warm Sunday evening we decided to get together.  A small spread was thrown together, the wine poured, and we eventually found our way (with wine) out for a walk through the adorable neighborhood, dreaming of which houses we'd live in and sneak peaks into open doors and drawn blinds.  We found a built-in dresser from a Spanish style house we passed with a "free" sign, so we hustled back to my FIT and picked it up.  Stealth like ninjas we pulled out all the drawers, lifted the ramshackled thing into the back of the car and were off in about 60 seconds flat.  We continued walking around the neighborhood for at least another hour.   It was perfection in a summer evening.  Long conversation, nommies, wine, free discarded furniture.  Absolute perfection. 

Friday, August 19, 2011

Dollar Bin Finds

Found these little puppies in the dollar bin at Michaels.  Set of 10 each, with envelopes.  Heck yes.
Also, found these darling recipe cards for a penny.  Yeah, you heard right.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Egg on my Towel + a Rant on Homemaking

Homemaking runs through my blood.  I was raised by my Grandma Ann who was the epitome of a homemaker (including the stereotypical postpartum depression and choosing the role of wife and mother over a music scholarship in college- but that's a whole other story).  Although I realize I am a self-sufficient and fiercely independent modern woman, homemaking beyond all else, is where my heart lies.  Perhaps because it encompasses a wide range of activities and philosophies and creativity.  And I'm not gonna lie, I always imagine myself doing it all while impeccably dressed and with a joyful smile on my face! Oh, le sigh!  In all seriousness, though, my Grandma Ann did have that part down, too.  Even in her later years when she stuck to a simple blue sweat suit, she never left the house without some powder on, her hair coiffed (scrunched, puffed...whatever you call that hand motion to liven up a perm), her matching earrings and necklace, and freshening her perfume (Red Door, it was her signature scent).  Needless to say, I was raised right.

{Nesting is just so incredibly personal.  It's ever-changing and always a work-in-progress.  Just when the space feels right, something happens and it feels even righter.  Yeah, I made that word up, but doesn't it just feel right?  Oh how I love to nest.  To snuggle into myself and my space.  To share that precious place with those I love.}

But, I digress.

The point is, homemaking is life.  Whether I like it or not there is no choosing if I am a homemaker or not.  There is no becoming one, either.  It just is.  I've tried many times to pretend it isn't so.  To pretend that I'd much rather be that awesome career woman that works works works and makes a proud ascent to the top.  I love that, really, I do.  Working Girl?  Great film! [Though the "I don't know about my belly, but I think it's butterflies" line makes me kinda barf in my feminist mouth] Most of my female friends are on this track.  Their determination is leading them to a grand career.  And they love it.  And I love that they love it.  I've come to realize over the years, though, that deny it as I may, I do not want that for myself.  It's sort of like peer pressure- in Life.  "So what's your plan?  What do you do?  Where are you working now?"  The answers I've given over the years never seem adequate.  Though, who's to say these women aren't also homemakers in their own right?

Embracing the homemaker inside of me means I am not striving for the same things as my girlfriends and their awesome careers.  The life I choose to live is one patched together to make something that's right for me.  I'd prefer self-employment, multiple projects in work and home, motherhood, travel, and personal development over a single career.  How do people even choose just one!?  I know this isn't normal or typical among my peers in the area, but I've found soul mates in women who do it daily around the country.  They live their lives on their terms and love every good, bad, and mundane moment of it.  That is what I strive for.

I will not "bide my time" until the perfect mate comes into my life to share it all with.  The life is made now, everyday, all by my lonesome and, in bits, shared with those around me whom I love dearly.  Picnics, cooking, sharing recipes, sewing, nesting: I eat this ish up for breakfast.  I devour it all so happy and proud of my creativity and domestic skills (what decade am I living in?).  Perhaps I put the feminist movement back 30 years in this sense, but I rather think I'm one of the many millions of women to move it forward in our own ways.  "Career" women and homemakers and vagabonds alike, we're doing exactly what we want to do.  We're living our life on our terms.  There is no submission to husband, boss, or societal pressures.  You want kids?  Have them!  You don't want kids?  Don't have them!  AND PS IT'S OK NOT TO WANT CHILDREN.  Just thought I'd throw that in there to clarify how okay it is to not want kids. 

Oh my, how I've shared!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Floor Time

Some day I will have enough space to have a huge dining room table to use for loving gatherings, homemade meals for my family, and projects that threaten to swallow either of the former from happening.  For now, I continue as a floor crafter.  Been one my whole life.  Besides machine sewing (which I have stubbornly attempted to do on the floor- cue cranky, stiff me) I prefer to do most crafting on the floor.  And for the majority of my life that has meant a battle between pins being lost in the carpet and my foot, lots of vacuuming I avoid doing for the fact that it's just going to get more minute strings of fabric on it anyways, and inadvertently hot and/or super gluing a number of things to it.  My pink carpet as a kid was a wreck.  Besides the typical kid spills it included iron burns, beads of dried glue, and the likes.  Once during my early floor crafting days I accidentally hit the tip of the hot glue gun with my calf and had to peel it off.  That left a mark.  A crafty battle scar, if you will.  The scar has since faded, but the love of feeling like a kid by plopping myself on the floor and making a mess has not.  Maybe it never will.

Wedding!

This weekend my friend Shay is getting married!  I have been looking forward to this for a very long time, especially because this means I get to take a little trip!  Since being back from Boston (over a year now) I haven't gone ANYWHERE.  My wanderlust is getting the best of me.  When it's been too long since getting out my mind goes "I should move somewhere completely different.  That would be fun."  Post-Boston Katie now knows better.  Perhaps I just take a trip.

So Friday I'll be driving up past San Francisco to Fort Ross to camp and celebrate.  I don't think I've ever been that far north in California.  This week has been about getting the last little bits and errands taken care of before I leave.  Today I wrapped their gift.  Although they had THEE BEST wedding registry (via amazon, and included a dremel- I love them) I opted for a small vintage gift which hopefully expresses as much love.  

Doesn't this little guy remind you of *Batteries Not Included?
Two Pyrex coffee cups to share a cup in the morning and a vintage pair of binoculars.  My favorite part of gift giving is always wrapping it.  Seriously.  I was born to wrap gifts.  Luckily I came across these precious "knot" cards and envelopes at Michael's in the dollar bin (score!) which are absolutely perfect as a wedding card.  Sure, they're blank inside, but I'm pretty darn good at writing sweet words.....or if my romantic musings are blocked I can always go with one of the millions of poems, sayings, or phrases that have been written since the beginning of time.
Here's hoping they like it!  This trips going to be a quick one (drive up Friday, drive back Saturday night) but it's so much-needed.  Also, I just feel so blessed to get to be a part of it.  Shay and I only get to see one another every couple of years or so, but she's one of those friends that has such a place in my heart.  This makes my heart swell to know that I am in hers as well.



Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Presence

Last night I had the most bazaar dream.  It was long and testing and towards the end I was dreaming about my earlier dreams (while in my dreams?).  Strange.  At one point I felt a sort of splinter in my foot.  I inspected the situation to find a small talisman (the best way I can describe it) deeply buried in the bottom of my foot.  I pulled it out to find it to be a little wood/clay statue of a plague doctor.  Incredibly creepy, but rad nonetheless.  What does that even mean?  According to my dream dictionary, a young woman (that's me) dreaming of a talisman denotes she will be pleased in her marriage....or something like that.  I think it was more specific that the talisman be given to her by her beloved, but since I'm currently without a beloved I choose to take it as a sign that my beloved (alas, wherever he may be) sent it through the universe into my strange dream just to remind me he's there, somewhere, in the same boat.  Perhaps my unconscious is able to send him a little token of affection back?  Who knows.  Oh the Universe, filled with phenomena I may never be able to explain.

Ironically, here I am with the tree of enlightenment.  How I love enlightenment...even if only in the smallest doses.

Nesting in a Small Space


Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Goodbyes

Jason left for Africa.  Well, first New York City, and then Africa via London.  I know he's totally having a blast.  I'm so proud of him.  He's an incredible friend, and I hope I'm just as much an incredible friend back.  Sometimes he drives me nuts (usually because he tells me what I a) already know, b) don't want to hear, or c) both) and I know as a fact I sometimes drive him nuts.  Regardless, he's one of my dearest friends.
Here he is in the wee morning hours on his way to the next chapter in his life.  Adios mi amigo, I'll be here when you get back.
ps. I love being up this early always.