Bari J.

We Are Not "Just" Anything.

I'm writing this for my daughters. And for my friends and my sisters. 

I've heard this relatively often enough from my women friends for it to bother me ... "I'm just a Mom." or "I'm just a wife." Sentences that start with "I'm just...".

You may be a mom, a wife, a daughter or whatever you are. But you also are you. You are more than "just."

As my daughters get older, these thoughts go through my head more and more often. I hope my daughters become moms one day (far far far in the future)... and when they do, I want them to say, "I'm a mom". Not I'm "just" a mom. And if they have other ambitions, I want them to know that they can do what they set their minds to.

For so many years of my life I believed in my heart of hearts that "other people have talent" and "other people have the secret to success"... I literally felt like there was some sort of magic that "other people" had, and that I certainly did not hold the key. I thought I was "just".

Then one day it honest to goodness dawned on me... other people had what they wanted because they worked really really hard for it. Yes, people are born with certain talents and pre-dispositions, but they didn't hone their talents without really hard work.

Back then, I didn't even know what my talents were. I thought I was "just."

I've heard that it takes 100 hours of practice to get good at anything. That is probably a bare minimum.

But I believe something else. I believe that if you want to succeed in anything, you have to truly, deeply believe that you can... and that you will.

I also believe that you don't necessarily need a degree in that which you want to succeed in. You know, unless you'd like to be a doctor or a lawyer or whatever you want to do requires a certificate. Good grief, my degree is in Social Sciences with a concentration in Psychology and Women's Studies ... yes, that's a true story.

What you need is experience, commitment, a belief in yourself, and quite likely ... someone who strongly believes in you.

I believe that we can do what we set our minds to do. I believe that we are not "just" anything.

I believe that I can succeed. And I believe you can too. And not only that. I want you to. Because I want my daughters to believe the very same thing. They are more than "just".

 

Last night on Twitter Oprah wrote "Intention defines outcome. Don't believe me? Look at your own life.". She says this a lot. But last night, after a somewhat emotional weekend, it got me looking at my own life more than usual. 

What are my intentions? Overall, I intend to be a good person, to contribute to the lives of my kids, family and others in a positive way, to live a happy and meaningful life. But does what I say and do match my larger intentions? What are the intentions of all of the little actions I take and do they match up with my overall intention?

When I was in acting school, we'd dissect a script this way. We'd look at each and every word and ask what the intention of the character was in saying what they were saying. For the truth is, with each word we say, with every action, there is an intended outcome.

For instance, what is my intention in writing about intention?

For myself, I intend to become clearer on what my intentions are. But what do I want you to think, say or feel? I want you to know that my intentions are good. I want to be upfront about my intentions and make them clear to everyone who reads what I write over the internet, whether it be here or on social media. And I want you to know what my intentions are for my business as well.

So in black and white...

My intentions in my business:

1. To create pretty, unique, fun and useful products for the sewing, gift, home and paper (etc) industries.

2. To offer inspiration about creating and sewing and motivate people to create.

3. To make a living doing what I love... and send my kids to college with money made doing what I love.

My intentions on my blog and social media (twitter et al):

1. To let you know about new products at Bari J.

2. To build brand awareness.

3. To let you in on tidbits of my personal life and behind the scenes at Bari J.

4. To build connections and friendships.

5. To be social.

6. To generate business for Bari J. in order to make a living doing what I love.

 

Ah. There it is. That feels good. Thanks, Oprah.

Lastly, I want to say, I intend to think about what my intentions are with each action and each word.

I intend to be intentional.

We now interrupt our regularly scheduled sewing programming to tell you about my adventures in health and weight loss...

I've struggled since my early twenties with my weight. For a time around the age of 21 I just stopped eating, which is a whole other discussion and thank heavens I came through it. But still, food has always been an issue for me. 

Since having children my weight has yo-yo'd up and down. I've never been seriously obese ... just heavy enough to not feel well. I'm a lifetime member at both Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers which serves as an example of just how many times I've gained and lost weight. 

In the past, weight gain was slow and due to pregnancies for the most part. However, when I hit 40... well, the poop hit the fan. It is nearly impossible to lose weight and Oh. So. Easy. to gain weight. If I'm not working out, it is an absolute given I will be gaining.

A couple weeks ago, Super Husband saw the movie, Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead. He too has steadily gained weight, but has never ever dieted or tried to change his lifestyle. But this movie must have hit him sideways because he was gung ho about it. It's a documentary about a man who goes on a juice diet and loses 80+ pounds. Along the way, he encourages others to join him. A truckdriver he meets changes his life on it. He was truly fat, sick and nearly dead.

At any rate, hub wanted to do this thing. 

I, on the other hand, was dead set against it. Number 1, having had issues around eating in the past, it scared the crap out of me. Number 2, over the years I really have learned that "everything in moderation" is the way to go. However, I also liked that he was so excited about getting healthy because, frankly, I've been worried about him. So, begrudgingly, I gave in.

On Sunday we bought our juicer and purchased a boatload of fruits and veggies. I printed out the daily plans (from jointhereboot.com)and we started on Monday. The plan was to stick with it for 15 days. We chose the plan that you do 5 days of eating and drinking your fruits and veggies, 5 days of only juicing, and then another 5 days of eating and drinking them.

Day one was not too tough until dinnertime. We both thought we'd puke if we had to eat another vegetable. And we both had raging headaches. Mine was not from caffeine withdrawal because I only have 1/2 a cup of coffee everyday anyways. His headache was probably exacerbated by lack of caffeine. While I knew he'd had at least a cup that morning, at least it wasn't his usual whole pot of coffee.

Day two was easier, again, until dinnertime. Dinner was baked squash with mushrooms and onions plus the blandest homemade vegetable soup on the planet. Both of us were irritated beyond belief. And I we were both certain that there is something seriously off about not having the slightest bit of protein.

Mind you, I'm not a nutritionist or a doctor, but even I know there's something amiss about that kind of imbalance. So here's my verdict on the plan and our intended course of action:

1. Juicing, for even just a couple days, it's a great way to get you aclamated to eating a ton of fruits and vegetables if you don't already.

2. Juicing is a great way to get in that ton of fruits and vegetables without choking down an entire garden (which is what we've eaten over the last two days).

3. The plan for the longterm lacks balance. I need a damn egg, people. Or beans or chick peas or something!

4. I'm super glad we got the juicer and did this because I feel like I can turn my eating pyramid around (i.e. less bread, more vegies and bits of protein instead of tons of fatty protein). I did not miss bread one bit. And I will continue to use the juicer in this same way. I'm just adding a bit of protein.

This morning I microwaved an egg with a spray of olive oil followed by a juice made from tomatoes, carrots, lemon and ginger which was absolutely delicious (and btw, contained 2 1/2 tomatoes and 4 carrots for each of us). Later, I'll add chick peas to my salad. Bottom line is, we are not going to do the 5 days of just juice, we are going to continue to eat and drink the fruits and vegies and we are adding a small amount of low fat organic protein to the mix. And we hope to just continue on this way indefinitely. I do not miss the refined sugar and processed foods at all.

And the kids have been eating healthier too. They've been making their own dinners. Last night they made pizza on whole wheat tortillas and had salad.

Also, today I am looking for some side pouches to add to my bicycle. Yesterday I rode up to the UPS store and grocery store to drop off packages and pick up more veggies but I could only get as much as my basket would hold. My plan to get in exercise is to ride my daily packages up there instead of driving them. I may also start yoga again. Looking for good options.

And by the by, I lost 2 pounds over the two days we've been doing this. I feel pretty dang good.

 

 

Dear Blog,

It has been a long time since I last wrote. I'm sorry, and I've missed you. 

We were in Arizona last week. And I didn't even say goodbye or leave you with something fun to do. To top it off, the only pics I have are of my sister's son who is adorable, but since he's not mine, I don't feel right posting those even though I know you will oooh and ahhh because he is the most adorable baby in the entire world. I'm not biased. Really. He is. Edit: Except for my brother's baby who ties for first place in the cutest baby in the entire world contest.

Oh! But I did take a photo on the road of my two babies! Too bad they hate posing for pictures. We always take the dogs with us so we are on the look out for Good Places to Let Them Do Their Thing. On our last trip we found this amazing orchard at the end of a dead end street. This time, I was sure to take a photo. I'm positive we are not supposed to let them out there, but ...ahem... we do pick up after them so I hope Farmer Brown never comes after us with a shot gun for trespassing. 

At any rate, this here is what you get when you ask 12 and 14 year old sisters to pose for a photo after they've been in a car for five hours and still have eight left to go. I say, "For crying out loud! Just go stand together over there and look like you like each other! One, Two, Three!". Snap. Sigh. Give up.

 

In other news, I'm getting ready to go to Sisters on Sunday. So I have been making extra samples, copying patterns and generally planning my classes. In the middle of this I was asked (and I'm glad I was, trust me) to submit some art work to someone ... but within three days. So, I gratefully scrambled to get all that done. Pretty happy with the results too. Last night I stayed up until two in the morning. I don't think I've done that since college! I mean stayed up to work. But I did what I had to do, and frankly, I loved every minute of it. However, due to the stress, my darned chin broke out again. (I feel the need to say this so if any of you see me Sisters and you only see me at events, where I am generally stressed out, you will know that I don't always look like I have the measles.)

But, I digress. Before I go I wanted to leave you with at least a little something to make up for my desertion last week, but then I never got anything done to give you. And then I remembered... I have been meaning to post about this for a month! Actually since Spring market in May. I did a little project with my Art Journal line for Sew4home. I just love their website. It's full of fabulous projects. 

I did two for them. A pinwheel playmat and a little burp cloth. I hope you will make them and enjoy.

And btw, you can get some Art Journal fabric from many online stores including Fabritopia, Fat Quarter Shop, Hawthorne Threads and more! Just saying.

 

 

Well, have a great holiday! See you in a week ... or less if I figure out how to get photos off my camera and on to my laptop while I'm away. (I know. I'm a genius.) 

XO,

Bari
 

 

 

 
 

When Jenny Doh asked me to write a story about how "Art Saves" for her website, CRESCENDOh, I knew exactly what I'd say. It's not something I talk about much, but certainly a story about what has shaped my life.

Read my story here. Comment and share yours.

Also, be sure to check out my recommended links. Jenny is posting two each day.

(Photo to the left is a jean jacket revamp I designed. It was published in Stampington's, Altered Couture, by then editor, Jenny Doh. It is still one of my favorite published projects.)

 

My friend Janis gave these to me when we went out to birthday lunch last week (I'm 41 now!). I'm amazed at how they are beautiful at every stage of opening. They are the best gift ever. Thank you, Janis. 

  

 

 
 
 

WARNING... BEEP BEEP ... WARNING... 

The following message is delivered by a bragging mother and it might make you feel like vomiting or otherwise becoming ill. You have been forewarned. I take no responsibility for any negative response you might have.

So... back to that jabber about my kids being talented and all: 

The girls and I were back at painting class this evening. And as you can see... they are clearly gifted. Anna can free hand just about anything. I have no sense when it comes to being able to look at a picture and then draw it. She can do it in her sleep. (As a side note: she's been doing it since Kindergarten. I noticed she would place her hand with her pencil in it above a drawing she wanted to do, move her hand in as if tracing it, and then place the pencil on her paper and draw... she's a genius, I know!) And I simply can't get over Emily's painting. I know I'm her mom, but I think it looks downright professional. 

This is Anna's work in progress based on a Japanese cartoon:

 

And here is Emily's finished Cabin in Winter painting.

 

I know, right? They are incredible!

I on the other hand, required much attention from our teacher. She may have been the tiniest bit frustrated by my lack of following directions. I'm just saying. 

This is my rose in progress. A bit cartoony. It needs several more layers of paint including a glaze plus I totally think it requires a stem because it totally looks like a floating rose here. **sigh**

 

BTW, we have a fantabulous teacher, Kathy McCartney. If you are in the SF Bay Area you might want to take a class...check out her work here.
 
 
 

I have issues. Vintage bling hoarding issues. Even when I say, "Man, I've totally run out of vintage goodies for my bags". That really means, "There's nothing I feel like using... right now.".

Last night I was searching online for a piece of jewelry to go with an outfit that I want to wear at market next week. And I soon realized that even if I did find that fabulous piece, it was never going to arrive here on time. So... because I have SO much spare time, out came the goodies and the old jewelry making materials... (Did I ever tell you I used to make and sell jewelry from salvaged pieces? No? Wellza, I did. It was like a thousand years ago. My youngest was two or so when I started so let's see... it was almost a decade ago.)

Anyways, I digress... I got out the old jewelry making materials and fussed and mussed with it until I came up with a couple options. 

I like 'em, but I am super pleased because Anna called dibs on one (didn't matter which one) for "When you get back from market, Mom.". 13 year old girl likes it. Now, that's a compliment (Don't tell her I said so... she'll take it back.)

 

 

Recently, I started running. Just to prove that I can. Here's the truth. I CAN run. I just don't LIKE to run. But I am running even if it is a run/walk thing that takes forever and people walking their dogs and pushing strollers zoom right past me when I am "running". And even if I am on my fourth week of this run/walk thing and I still can't go more than 2 minutes "running" because my knees and shins feel like they may pop and it doesn't matter how much I stretch and that I have new shoes.

As kids we are told. We are told what to do, we are told how to do it. We are told who we look like, what we are good at, what we are not so good at. We are constantly learning, evaluating. That's what we are meant to do.

I decided I couldn't run in the 3rd grade because I was the slowest one at the 50 yard dash. Seriously. That's why I decided this. But just because in the 3rd grade when I was eight years old, I was slower than the other kids, does that mean I could never ever run or be a runner? Maybe. I truthfully don't think I have a runner's shape, but does that mean I can't run?

Through our learning and understanding about the world around us, our place in it, our place in our own families, we come to believe certain things to be true. And a lot of times, these things aren't the nicest of things, and probably a good portion of the time our evaluations of ourselves especially aren't even true. 

Even if I was pretty correct about the running thing, why I personally chose to believe some of the craziness I did, I'm not sure. 

I hear my sixth grade teacher saying, "Bari Palles, if your head wasn't attached it would be long gone!". Hence the belief in my perpetual disorganization. 

I decide that since my sister and my brother are good at art, that I am not. I'll be good at something else. I'll be good at singing, acting, dancing. (I was too!)

I decide that since in the second grade, I'm struggling with math, I must not be able to do it. I'm just not smart enough. I avoid it from there on out.

I decide a whole bunch of other not-nice-to-myself-negative-self-image stuff too.

And I hold these truths to be self-evident. For a very very long time.

But as you know, over the past few years, I decided to knock these beliefs off their dirty dusty old shelf. And create new beliefs.

I've totally put holes in my laundry list of "things I can not do." Even math... although a good algebra class might help that situation a lot more if ever I should feel the need to torture myself in that way.

Write a book is one of them. Pretty cool. I'm getting there on that one.

Today, I put holes in the "I can not illustrate" belief. How I thought I could draw two whole fabric lines and more but not illustrate sewing diagrams is sort of unbelievable when I say it out loud, but there it is. Ok, so, I can sorta' illustrate stuff. And I really like it too.

So, what (self) truths do you hold self evident. And why? 

How much ya' wanna' bet it's not true?

Murphy's law. I call it "Magical Thinking". And as a rule, I'm against magical thinking. What I mean by that is that I think that things don't just happen. I think that we make them happen. Just sayin'.

But over the past week, a series of unfortunate events (really just a couple) have caused me to look at that Magical Murphy's Law. {{{BTW, an aside and another reason not to like it... It's a negative law. So in the way of magical thinking, I think it's a bummer. If I'm going to think magically, it should be good things. Not: "if anything can go wrong it will.". Seriously, that's ugly.}}} But none-the-less here's how things went down:

1. I'd been rushing like a demon to meet a deadline, sewing and writing away when ... POOF! The circuit board on my sewing machine decides it's time to call it quits. 

I looked over my shoulder. Murphy, are you there? 

No. No. No. No magical thinking. At least not the negative sort. 

I called The Sewing Machine Shop in Walnut Creek, and happened to get the owner when he came to pick up the mail. He was just stopping in as he just had knee surgery. Anyways, I explained my situation, and he graciously lent me a machine until he can fix mine. 

The result of which is... this infinitesimally small peek (you are looking at about two inches of it) at this project... See that pretty Laura Gunn fabric?! To die for.

2. I lost the pen to my graphics tablet which is my life line to drawing. Of course, I really needed it right then. I had to think quick in order to save one of my favorite designs in fabric line number two from the cutting room floor... which is a cute story in and of itself and I'll tell you about that when I can show you the whole line in a finished form... which I think is really really soon. But I digress... Murph's law had me loosing a pen just when I needed it. Was I actually going to let him get to me again?

First of all, dear Murphy, I'd drawn my little hand off about a week ago, and found the perfect element I'd already drawn and finished to add to a pattern. (I'm sticking my tongue out and blowing razzes here.) Ha. I saved the "fabric pattern from having it's little head chopped off. 

(a peek at somethin' or another in the works, but it's not the one that almost got chopped.)

Then even though I knew it was a trick, I decided to use this so-called law in my favor. I figured this was the best way to find my old pen. I was already on the magical thinking tear so what the heck, I'll give in... I ordered a new pen that afternoon, and wouldn't you know... found the old one the next day. I'm keeping the new one as a back-up.

3. After Murphy had wrecked havoc twice in a week, I got a letter from my child at overnight camp that started "As I write this I am crying...". So of course this causes a flood of tears from me. (I don't know where my daughter gets her dramatic streak.) I wanted to rush right up there and get her. But. I think. And I realize that this note is written the first night of camp, she's tired, she's in new surroundings. And Murphy's law would tell me that by the time I got up there, she'd be having a grand old time and wondering what all the fuss is about. I'll wait a day. And I was right. Today's letter from her had a really happy tone. She's canoeing, hiking, and told me not to worry because she is drinking enough water and eating the food.

Ha. Magical thinking, Murphy's Law ... You've got nothin' on me.

PS... Just so you know, if that letter hadn't come today, I'd be in the car right now, feeling guilty that I left her there for an extra day. Murphy's law be damned.

I'll just say it. I've been holed up in here for months making projects for and writing a book. 

 

But it's not fair for me to just announce that with out telling the whole story. Because the world works in mysterious ways. And I think you may find it interesting and somewhat intriguing how this all came about. Make of it what you will. But for those of you who are thinking that you would like to do the same thing, I hope you will be inspired by this little tale.

Something surreal happened when I got back from Quilt Market last fall. I'd just signed a contract with Windham Fabrics to license my designs, when I get an email from the new Acquisitions Editor at C&T Publishing, Susanne Woods, requesting a book proposal. She had been reading my blog for a while and had just realized that I lived practically down the road.

My response to myself was, "Me? I can't write a book. Besides, I just got some really good news, when is the sky going to fall?". 

My outer response was more like, "Well, let's find out what this is all about." (Remember that whole stepping through doors that open thing I've talked about before?). Susanne and I met for lunch. Some of you may know C&T for their traditional quilting books, but alas the vision at C&T is changing a bit. Susanne explained that C&T is starting in a new direction with "a fresh modern aesthetic" (wait till you guys see what that is all about!), and she thought that I would fit in well with this vision. Hmmm. Who knew?

That was October. Fast forward a couple of months... (the months that I spent procrastinating until Super Husband got on me about it: "Why the heck haven't you turned in that proposal?", was about how it went). I wrote a proposal in December, turned it in in January and by March was looking at a contract (with my head spinning in circles).

And between that, finishing fabric line number two, putting on a bat mitzvah, a bunch of extraneous stuff you have to do to promote a fabric line, I have been consumed since. 

That's why the stack of fabrics from Moda (in a previous post), from Windham, and from Michael Miller (above). The bonus of writing a book is fabric that gets to go in the book comes to you in big boxes from generous companies... who I can't thank enough!

So, that's my story. Lot's more about this adventure to come. 

Feelin' this way lately. Hope you are too.

XO,

Bari

Oh, wow. Do we look young!

I love you even more now, Super Husband!

XO,

b

 

No one every said I was a morning person (really. not. ever.)

On a Saturday morning I get particularly nasty if you want me to be up before 8 am. So when I had to take my daughter to an event this morning by 9 am and get up at 7:00 am I was a little snippy, one might say.

Super Husband was conveniently sick is sick. He sounds and looks like something the cat dragged in.

I had to be on clean up patrol for the event. This involves dragging a large bin of garbage across hither and to yon to pitch it. Plus taking the used icky coffee cups that they people don't bother to throw in the trash and do it for them and other disgusting stuff. For someone with a thing about cooties, this is an issue.

I spent the whole time complaining in my head to myself about what a pain in the tush it all was. Gritting my teeth too. I wasn't nice. And I sincerely hope no one noticed. If you did, apologies all around (sort of).

By 10 am I was wishing desperately I was home. 

It's sad how little tolerance I have.

Especially since, the truth is, the time went faster than I thought it would, and the kids and I spent the afternoon sewing. I made the patchwork portion of Frannie bags (the rest of it goes out to a seamstress) and the kids each took an end of two yards of fleece to stitch the blanket stitch all around it.

They swear they are going to share it and cozy up on the couch. Yeah. Right. I'll believe that when I see it.

So, now, what's next? Cleaning up my own darn mess, cooking dinner and staying as far away from Cootie-Man on the couch as possible.

Hope you are having a nice weekend.

It was all of my own doing.

I didn't check the calendar before I hit "purchase" and "confirm". 

Last month, in lieu of a birthday party for Emily, we decided that as a family we would go see "Wicked!". So in an excited flurry and afraid I wouldn't get tickets anywhere near her birthday, I got the ones closest in date which were this past Tuesday.

But I didn't check the calendar first as I was confident we couldn't possibly have something going on on a Tuesday night.

And "we" didn't. But Emily, the birthday girl, did. She was scheduled to go to her fifth grade outdoor ed event for four days starting that morning.

So after a month of trying to sell the tickets, I came up with a plan. I would drive out to the camp (2.5hrs one way) with the class, spend the day there with Emily as parents were invited to do anyways, and then go to the city to see Wicked. Super Husband and Anna would take the train in, we'd go to dinner and then see the show. We'd go home for the night and then I'd make the trek with Emily back to camp the next morning.

All of this worked out perfectly. Until... the show ended... and we made our way onto the dreaded Bay Bridge. 

I was totally bragging that I got us to the highway without getting lost ... la la la... when we came to a complete stop. The never-ending construction was in fact still taking place at 11 PM. And in fact, we were being routed off the ramp, back into the city, up a couple blocks, and then back onto the loathsome bridge.

We finally made our way home at 1 AM. And I had promised that I would leave to take Emily to camp by 7. 

Which I did. We finally got to camp at 9:30 in the morning, and I actually napped in the car for half an hour praying she wouldn't see me before taking off to go home. 

And you know what? Despite the fact that I was totally exhausted, we had an incredible time. The day at camp was lovely (the scenery was something out of a dream), Emily and Anna were both beaming with excitement through the whole show, we laughed our way through dinner and the kids slept the whole way home. Plus Emily certainly had her cake and ate it too. 

Super Husband thinks I'm nuts, but I'd do it all again.

I am a total freak. Just ask my 11 and "almost 13" year old girls. They'll tell you. I need to get a grip. 

Of course there are many reasons why they think this. But I think I may have added icing to their cake last week. 

They were with me when I visited my UPS box as we do a couple times a week. This time a package from Windham arrived. I dragged it back out to the car where the girls were patiently waiting for me to take them to their various activities.

I knew what was in the package. A couple copies of my color cards. I opened the box and pulled them out. And to the utter dismay of my very, very hip and cool pre-teen girls, I start crying. "Oh my gosh, girls! Look! It's real! Your mom did it! I did it! Oh my goodness. I can't believe it!" and on and on just like that.

Until I started laughing... And saying the same sorts of things. The girls are now frantically looking around to make sure no one can see them in the car with their mother, the freak, now crying and laughing because she got a box with some stuff in it that totally did not relate to them. Emily is crouched down low in the back seat.

Finally Anna yells, "Mom! Pull yourself together!". 

This sort of shocked me out of it. Pull myself together? I'm not apart. Don't you two get it? I did it! 

Well, no they didn't get it. Still don't get it. 

Or maybe they sort of get it, because about five minutes later, Anna pipes up again, "When I grow up, I'm not going to have to get a job for real because I'll take over the Bari J. empire.". 

I try to hide my new round of tears (uh, and laughter). The "almost 13" year old Anna responds with a sharp crossing of the arms and rolling of the eyes. "Thank goodness we're not sitting in that parking lot where everyone can see us.", I can hear them thinking.

I did pull myself together in time to drop them off, and before they got out of the car, they quickly looked around to see if anyone could see them, hugged me and said, "Love you."

"Love you too. And, btw, work hard because you're going to have to get a job 'for real' when you grow up." 

Of course, if the "Bari J. empire" is what Anna so graciously (and a little bit frighteningly) thinks it will be, I'd be happy to have her hang around.

But don't anyone breathe a word to her about that until she finishes college. 

 

I've been quiet for awhile... Not much to say, or much that I can say. It seems I'm working on things I'm trying to keep secret all the time... Not anything new or earth shattering or anything, but you know... Bottom line is... today's post is because I miss you, and so I'm going to blather on about this and that to hopefully entertain you...

I haven't mentioned it before, but I'm a big reader... recently finished Shelter Me, The Hour I First Believed, Water for Elephants and several others. Highly recommend Water for Elephants. I have to admit, that I read through the entire Super Bowl even when Super Husband was jumping up and down and hooting and hollering.

Made a "virtual quilt" for the back of the color card for the fabrics... can't show it yet. Apparently, Windham has opened sales to stores already though. Yay.

 

Worked on several more bits* for upcoming patterns... found out that making a pattern for a shoe is not as easy as it looks, but I did it, baby! And learned some fancy-schmancy pattern-making tricks along the way. *There's an English woman, Helen, in my sewing drop-in on Mondays, and she talks about her "bits" all the time. I love it. So, I'm taking it in as part of my regular vocab-repertoire.

Decided that vacuuming up Isabelle's fur is a lost cause. None-the-less, I still torture myself daily. (Isn't she the cutest dog ever? Too bad she weighs 100+lbs and thinks she's a lap dog, huh?)

I believe that the key to happiness is clean laundry. I finally got to the bottom of that situation yesterday and am overwhelmed with joy today. Love that smell coming from the dryer exhaust outside too.

I need to go see some movies ... I don't think I've seen anything but kid stuff for a year.

I'm playing hooky Friday and doing that. (Hold me to it.) Think I'll see Slumdog Millionaire. I would also like a pedicure if I can squeeze that in.

Am really mad that Simon and Randy were so transparent about bikini girl last night on Idol... I do not hate anybody, but I intensely dislike that girl and think that she is an insult to smart, talented girls everywhere. And certainly is not a good example for my two smart and talented girls. 

Yuck. Yuck. Yuck on her!

This morning I forced myself to the health club though it was the last thing on earth I wanted to do. I've been listening to craftsanity podcasts as I work out. So far I've listened to the interviews with Amy Butler, Alicia Paulson, Betz White, Anna Maria Horner, and Carol Duvall... all while on the elliptical. I highly recommend listening to these. Very enjoyable and whiles the time away very nicely. The elliptical is SOOOOO boring.

I'm thinking of taking an oil painting class, but I also want to take tap dancing and a pattern making course as well. It's a toss up.

 

I love Facebook. It has connected me to so many people I would not otherwise be in contact with.

But I am clueless about how to Twitter. I even asked Libby (the really sweet 21 year old gal that works at Peets Coffee where I am a regular customer) if she knew how to Twitter, and she said she didn't get it either... thank goodness, because I thought I was getting seriously old. I pride myself on the fact that I am nearly 40, have a pretty good understanding of html, and I am very technology literate.

That's all folks... more randomness (or less randomness) tomorrowish. If I start writing about meals I'm cooking turn me in to the blogging police because I don't really cook anything that you would be interested in as I am mostly interested in getting it over with (unless I have a ton of time) so clearly I'd be making sh-stuff up.

XO,

Weekend synopsis:

When there wasn't some of this...

Or some of this...

or this...

There was some of this...

And I loved this...

And I know I promised you some of this...

La la la. What a week. I have no idea where time went off to. Kids were out of school on Monday (teacher's work day... can there be more of those???), I had a little disappointment on Tuesday which hosed the whole day. Then Wednesday, Thursday and today I spent playing catchup. (Note to self: limit pity party for self to one or two hours minutes not the whole day.)

I found myself sitting here last night at midnight creating a sign for Farm Chicks. It's a really big document and while it was saving in Photoshop, I was falling asleep. Head bob. Head bob. Oy. After about the fifth time my head went bob-diddy-bob, I realized it was time for bed.

Today it was cut cut cut cut cut bags... drive drive drive bags to seamstress. I usually send a big package of fabric and cuts to her on Wednesday via UPS, but missed that deadline, then missed the same deadline the next day. So today I was forced to drive it there. Needless to say this didn't make me very happy.

Plus, I meant to take some pictures to show you of the artwork on the front of the bags, and totally forgot. Poop. And, I'm absolutely convinced that there is something missing from the box. Did I forget a side or bottom to a bag? Am I going to find a straggler handle somewhere in this mess tomorrow???

I want to show you a picture of the floor in this room, but I have a strict rule about only posting pretty pictures. No dirty laundry, or some a pot full of goop that I'm cooking up for dinner. ((I see a lot of pretty dinner pictures here in blog-land, and I always wonder how you got the light so good when pointing the camera down into a pot. Someday you'll have to explain that to me.))

So, I leave you today with this banner. It took forever and a day. For whatever reason I was having a brain fart about how to do the scallops. I shall share this with you some day because I had a serious light bulb moment and figured out how to do it. It was painfully obvious... I guess that's why I missed it. Like I said (or do you know this by now?), I'm always looking for a way to create drama.

Good night.
~b

Is anything better than a vase of tulips?

Only a vase of pink and orange tulips.

Take more bike rides with my kids. Read more Great Books. Craft just for me. Take more pictures of the kids. Go to the Beach. Go on a Date with Super Husband. Drink a glass of Wine. Sleep in. Make great meals. Take a VACATION. Dream. Take a Hike. Read with the kids. Buy Flowers. Make a skirt. Finish a Quilt. Go Antique Shopping. Take a ride with no destination. Make some stationery. Write letters. Plant a Garden. Go to France. Try new Teas. Enjoy the Sunshine. Drink Lemonade. Take a Walk. Listen to Music. Be Silly.

Happy Weekend!

I preface all of this with the fact that I am accutely aware that things could be worse, and that I am truly blessed and all that good stuff.

Buuuuut... all things being relative,I gotta' do my little whining routine and get it out of the way.

I've got all these pretty fabrics waiting to be turned into aprons and low and behold the workload (or my own carelessness) finally caught up with me.

I'm not complaining, mind you. Oh, no, not me. But Super Husband is "Sick-And-Tired-Of-Hearing-About-It", so it's your turn now.

This will sound silly, but what's happened is I have a "repetitive motion injury". Whaaaaaat???? Uggch. Sounds easy enough to get out of the way... but no... I have done quite the number on myself.

About two weeks ago, I woke up with numb fingers, which isn't unusual. I do every day (carpal tunnel, don't we all have that?). But that day, on the ring finger and pinky of my left hand it didn't go away. Still hasn't. Tingle, tingle as I type away. Must type with right hand.

Now, most things, I'll ignore. In fact, it's my habit to get on Web MD and I look up things it might be. Then I find the most benign possibility and decide that's what it is. My Plan is to Forge Ahead in Bissful Denial. (Note: this never applies to my kids and dogs, them I drag to the doctor on the first sign of trouble. Super Huband is on his own, because he's impossible to drag.)

But my plan did not work this time. Web MD didn't quite let me get away with it. Numb fingers means "go to doctor". Phooey!

Don't I have better things to do with my time?

Apparently not. Because it turns out I've done a little damage to Miss Elbow, hand, wrist, neck et al. And if you touch that funny bone area it sends me straight to the moon. And I mean just slightly touch. Not tap, not knock. Lightly touch and there I go...Zing-diddy-zing.

This means a bunch of trips to physical therapy (which, btw, are not seeming to work) and possibly a trip to Scary Doctor with shots in the elbow. Or worse, the neck, which is apparently where most of this mess started in the first place.

Ugggch! This is all very unappealing.

Honestly, I've never had anything that stopped me from doing the things I need to and want to do (aside from little surgeries here and there). I'm very fotunate. So, this is causing me some distress. I realize I'm almost 39 years old, but it really feels like high school was about a week ago. So, this just seems down right silly. I couldn't have repeated a motion enough to injure myself. I'm just 18... errr 38 years old. Not enough time to do that.

There it is, folks, my whining quota for the year has been met. No more! And Pretty Lady in Waiting Fabrics, I'm going to find a way to get you made into aprons, with or without me.

PS... On a funny note... To sleep, I have to wear this great big splint on my arm... along with a wrist brace on each hand because it apparently isn't good to wake up with numb hands... And to top my lovely outfit off, because I grind my teeth, the dentist has me wearing a mouth guard. Oh, and because it made me laugh, I decided to wear old sweat socks to bed too. Really. It's a sight to behold.

I was near a Container Store today, and I had an urge to go in. This is nothing new. If ever a place lured me, it was a Container Store. Zombie-like, I am drawn in like a magnet. But today I resisted this urge. And this is when it all started.

You know how when you try to resist eating a cookie it sometimes leads to a feeling of deprivation... which then causes you to eat the whole box (I've never done that ... ah-hmm... I'm just saying...).

That's what happened when I resisted the urge to go into the Container Store, open my wallet and pour out the contents. It caused me to return to my studio and literally tear the place apart in my never-ending-quest-for-organization. Curse the Container Store!

I wish I could show you the mess, but alas, I am so appalled by it, this can not be done.

I will however show you the one and only drawer that is finished while the rest of the room is in shambles. Isn't Hello Kitty cute? I put her there just for you. She belongs in the back.

You do know that I can't go to bed with this mess here or I'll never get anything done tomorrow, don't you? The mess will weigh on me. I'd stay in my pajamas, aimless all day.

I know you don't believe me, but it seriously looks like a bomb went off in here. You'll just have to trust me on this one. Super Husband walked in took one look and turned around and left. He knows better.

So here goes nothing... I'm off to clean up this disaster. There is a lot of coffee on the horizon in the morning.

I've been thinking about the things I tell myself. Some of them are not so good...You know, "You're never gonna' make it." "What were you thinking?" But these I am training myself to let go of.

There are other things that I tell myself often that ... well.. they work.

I've been having a bit of a good run with these lately so I thought I might share some them with you...

The very first one is from my dad, who probably doesn't even remember saying this to me. It's, "Never take 'no' for an answer from someone who doesn't have the authority to tell you yes." I say this all the time to Super Husband... especially if he's on the phone with customer service for something or another.

I'm famous for saying, "Can I please speak to the supervisor on the floor?" When the Supervisor says "No". I continue with, "Is there someone else that might be able to help me with this?"

That has often lead to being disconnected... but other times, baby, I get what I want.

It has many-a-time impressed the heck out of Super Husband who didn't think it was possible. He once had a air conditioning guy say to him, "I'll be over in five minutes, Mr. Ackerman. Just please don't let your wife make any more phone calls."

That was a good one! I'll be proud of that for the rest of my life. This particular air conditioning guy, because of my phone calls, was forced by our city to rewire hundreds of homes because they had used a phony permit to install. Muhahahahahahaha!

My other mantra is (I think this is from my mom)... "You don't get what you don't ask for." It's definitely along the same line as the other mantra, but it is totally affective for whenever I'm scared to death to take the next step. It has also gotten me flight and room upgrades while traveling. There's nothing wrong with that, I say.

Another one that I like is "You can't win unless you play." Well, hello? Duh. But then on the other hand, I often find myself saying "I never win." Yeah, but did I enter to win?

So, what's your mantra? Do you have one? Is it negative like my meanie voice sometimes is? Or did you have you managed to kick that meanie's butt?

I'd love to add some positive ones to my repertoire. If you share them, I'll compile a list for a future post!

You know how sometimes you wake up and you've just got to tell your dream? I told Super Husband this morning about a dream I had right before I woke up and his response was sort of lack-luster. It annoyed me. I'm not sure he was even listening. So, now I've got to share. You may even relate, who knows?

There is a caveat. You have to promise me that you will share a reoccurring dream with me too... You may feel like commenting below, yes? (Talk to me... please talk to me... I work all alone in this office and I'm talking to myself half the day, so when you don't comment I think I'm writing to myself too).

I have a bunch of reoccurring dreams.

There's the quality "Flying over Everything" dream. I like that one.

There's the "I'm searching for a clean toilet for hours only to wake having to pee like nobody's business"dream and the "I'm swimming in the ocean, down a river, floating in a never ending water park only to wake having to pee like nobody's business" dream. I don't like those.

Then there's the "I'm on the Oprah Show" dream. These are usually pretty fun. Sometimes O and I are even friends.

The last reoccurring dream is going to confirm my lack of sanity. This dream made it's way into my regular Oprah show dream last night, and it was mostly disturbing when I woke up. But when I was dreaming, I was quite content.

I've had the dream that got mixed into the Oprah dream for the last 14 years. It's about my grandfather, and may be due to the fact that he passed away when we were on our way back from our Honeymoon. He had surgery that we all thought he was going to get through while I was away, and unfortunately that wasn't the case.

I dream that it was all a big mistake. I come home and I tell them they were wrong, that Grandpa is not gone. They bury him anyways because they think I'm nuts. Only to find out later that I was right. I know ... this is gross. Grandpa is then exhumed and is alive and well. He's with us but in this really tenuous kind of state, and of course then I wake up and realize it was all a dream and I'm really angry and sad all over again. When my grandmother passed I started dreaming the same dream about her.

Last night... or early this morning... Oprah's producers were setting my Grandparents up on a trip to Napa where we were all going to meet them at a spa resort. In my dream I'm telling the producers that my Grandfather is an amazing man, that he was buried alive and survived. I'm going on and on, and they're just taking what I say at face value.

At some point during this spiel I realize in my dream that I'm dreaming, but I don't want to know that I'm dreaming. So, I somehow manage to keep it going for a bit. And then suddenly I'm awake and totally disoriented. I start telling Super Husband something about my grandparents miraculously coming to life to be on Oprah. I'm not sure the words made it out of my mouth all the way before I realized again that I was dreaming. His response... "Sounds like you miss your grandparents."

Uh, yes. But "wasn't that a weird dream?"

What's my point in telling you anyone who has access to the internet and floats by my little bloggy about these dreams? Nothing really. Just had to get it out.

I do hope that my Oprah and Grandparent dreams do not get mixed up again. And if I had my druthers, tonight I'd dream the "Flying over Everything" dream.

Oh my gosh! I forgot to tell you about the "I'm in my childhood home and all the doors and windows are open and all the lights are on dream." Oh, and what about the "walking through a house of doors dream"? My mom has that one too. Oh dear. I do have a lot of reoccurring dreams.

So, now, fess up... what have you been dreaming about?

I was going to make this an edit to the other entry about blog headers, but then I started having a lot to say so here goes...

After asking you all for your input I realized that the reason I couldn't decide was because I didn't really like any of them. But this one, I'm keeping. I'm not even asking.

I think it's much cleaner and I like how it pops when the window opens.

The background is a pattern I recently created in Photoshop. You see, it's not really an obsession with banners, per se. I'm fixated on the idea of designing patterns for fabric and paper.

I almost hate to admit it, really. So many people want to design fabric etc... it seems like the new trend. It's like saying "I'm a handbag designer". Yeah, yeah. So's everyone else.

Do you have this feeling? Deep down in the pit of my stomach there's always the question... "What makes me special?". I ask myself, "Is this the path I'm supposed to be taking?" "Am I meant to be doing this?"... Are we "meant" to do something anyways?

Some days, I think I'm totally on the right track. Other's ... oy. I just don't know. But I do know that when I get an idea in my head I just can't let it go. The idea goes something like this to self: "You can do that. I'm sure you can do that. You just have to do it."... and on and on.

Here's the deal though... my real philosophy... if I have one: I think that in our lives doors open and shut. Sometimes they open and we decide to walk through them ... or we don't. What was beyond that door that I didn't walk through? I'll never know. So, maybe the idea of doing such and such is just a door opening. So walk through, I tell myself. You never know where it will lead.

Wow... deep. I must be exhausted.

~b

No, no... wasn't me. That was my evil, self-destructive, alter-ego. I can't believe she got into the ice cream again. I can't tell you how many times I've warned her about that.

Alter-Ego has been very naughty lately. Just last night she posted the list below on the Women Take Wing forum, and since she had such fun writing it, I thought I'd share it with you all. It might clear up Alter-Ego's foray into the freezer last night.

Signs that you have been over-working...

• You wake in the middle of the night sure you left the iron on.
• While you are up you write down that fabulous new idea that you just thought of while you were dreaming (of work) only to discover in the morning that it makes no sense at all.
• You forget birthdays... even your own.
• You forget your dentist appointment.
• Your hair, which is normally cut in a neat bob, hangs in strings that can be mistaken for very cheap yarn next to your ears. In order to prevent this, you convince yourself that headbands are your new look.
• Your butt is saggy... So you sing the "I like big butts" song to make yourself feel better.
• Your tummy is bulgy, but you tell yourself it's just baby weight even though your youngest is 10.
• Over-reacting becomes your middle name.
• You have four junk drawers in your kitchen.
• Laundry is overflowing out of the laundry room, down the hall and into the kitchen.
• You leave the house with masses of thread and other craft/office supplies (pick your poison) on your sweater and in your hair ... and don't really care.
• You believe that every item on your list has "A" priority.
• You refresh your email far more than you'd like to admit.

If this is you... there is help. Go take a long bath with your favorite magazine and a cup of tea. If that doesn't do the trick, polish off the carton of ice cream and claim that your diet starts tomorrow.

See! It was all her idea. I would NEVER eat all that ice cream.

Super Tuesday:

I feel obliged to say get your rears out there and vote if you are in a Super Tuesday state of the U.S.! I did my civic duty right after kid duty (morning drop off). I left with a big smile on my face, and am wearing my, "I Voted" sticker proudly. For some reason, this election seems really exciting to me... more than in the past.

The Biggest Mess Ever:

That done, I got myself right to work and made this mess... with-in about 30 minutes.

There is another picture of what is on the floor that I was too embarrassed to show you. So, I'll let you imagine.

A Must-Have Tool:

As I was sewing up the creation that was made in this hurricane, I was delighted to use my new Purple Thang (yes, that's really what it's called). I lost the other one so I bought a new one. And when I bought it I said, "I just know I'm going to find that Purple Thang when I get home.". And guess what? I did. Now I have two Purple Thangs which makes me happy because there is one ready and available for backup when I drop the first one behind the desk again.

As a good citizen, I also feel obliged to tell you that Purple Thang is the most wonderful tool ever. It has prevented me from sewing straight through my finger on many occasions. Purple is a most perfect tool for these collage type sewing projects where I have a million little scrappies sticking up all over the place and the free-motion quilting foot does not make a good barrier. Trust me, I know... thank goodness it was only the plastic that came down on my finger becaue that sucker hurt!

You can get a Purple Thang here... I have no affiliation with this website... just sharing. It seems to be a good resource for all sorts of goodies.