Inquiring Moms Want To Know

Moms, behold our new couch!

Charlie couldn't fit on our old beloved couch, so we bought a new one. Thank you to Charlie's grandmother Mimi for helping us furnish our living room by inheriting some of your furniture and by extension your impeccable taste. But I bet you weren't thinking about tall men napping on your couch when you bought it those many years ago. We loved that couch, but it went to a woman in southern Seattle who had her house flooded over the holidays and was overjoyed to finally get a beautiful piece of furniture.

close-up of the fabric texture

Our friend Maggi has swanky modern taste in furniture, and had mentioned a particular furniture store in bellevue a few times so we decided to give it a try. Unexpectedly a couch jumped out at the both of us. Elegant and clean-lined but not sparse. Surprisingly affordable! Charlie flounced down upon it with a sigh of contentment and couldn't even get his toes to reach the far armrest.

vintage pattern, reprinted

I spent the evening crafting an outfit for a friend's baby shower this weekend. I went a little out on a limb, working with a vintage pattern from the 50's when you dressed infants in frills no matter what the sex. I toned down the frills a bit changing out lace for a dyed cotton trim, used a gender neutral fabric, and substituted resin snaps instead of the old-fashioned ties and buttons. Ties on baby clothes just don't seem safe to me, and buttons are a pain in the rear when you are trying to dress a squirmy infant. O industrial snap setter, how I love you.

the front of the gown and nappy cover

the back, with restrained frilly-ness

close up of the fabric -- how can you go wrong with ducks wearing top hats?
(the above pictures are a more true color...the close-up turned out overly yellow)

Bathroom: Finished!

Yesterday I completed the final steps on the bathroom and rewarded myself with a splendid shower this morning in my gleaming white-tiled bath. I even fixed the crooked hot water handle. The project went a little longer than planned because Charlie pointed out (rightly so) that the fake wood trim I had used to replace the baseboards when we installed the cork floor just didn't look very good. At the time, all I could find was this strange synthetic pressed wood and it really didn't take stain very well. Better than bare wall-bottoms, but not very nice overall.

A few weeks ago I managed to find a lumberyard that also had a millwork department. For the astonishing price of $32 I bought real beautiful trim. I think the stupid synthetic cost more than that! A few passes with the miter saw, and then several long days of stain. Wait. Stain. Wait. Wait. Poly. Wait. Poly. Wait. The house isn't super cold, but things just take a lot longer to cure in the winter time, especially when it is wet outside.

Yesterday I decided that it was dry enough and nailed it onto the wall. Done! Of course, since it took me a few years to finish this project, it's already time for me to re-seal the cork floors. But I think I'll wait until the summertime to do that, when I can throw the window open because I'm sure it won't smell very good.

snowy

We got a good five inches of snow last night, fluffy and clingy. Charlie growled off to work in his super-snow-car and I went around with a broom handle knocking at the delicate willow branches. Last year both of our pretty willows in the driveway center got squashed by ice and snow. They are both held up by stakes and rope now, but droop alarmingly once they get a few pounds of snow on the branches. Truth be told I don't mind, since knocking off the snow is fun.


The turkeys ventured out from the coop and came around front to request some treats. They're loitering on the front porch right now and looking in through the living room window whenever I pass by. "Look, she's vacuuming!" One can only hope that I provide enough entertainment for their sawdust brains.

These Boots Were Made For Limping

Sure, I had a bit of a gimp going on. I had to use my festive red athletic tape and give my foot a good binding. But it was worth it. For the first time in months, I wore shoes that weren't sneakers. Overall it was surprisingly pain free. We went to see the Seattle Symphony on Thursday night, and I wore my black boots.

Puss-and-boots!

We went to see Play! and it was great and unlike any other symphony concert I've ever been to. The only one to top it in technical wizardry was when I saw Liberace at Heinz Hall so many years ago. It was the full Seattle symphony guest conducted by Arnie Roth (of Mannheim Steamroller fame) along with a boy's choir and a girl's singing group for the choral bits. There were huge video screens hung above the orchestra, and they alternated between snips from the video games they were playing the music for, and shots of players in the orchestra from various camera angles. At times the camera work was totally public-access, where they would cut to a camera that wasn't set up with their shot and there was wild panning to get a close up of the piccolo or somesuch, but it was still interesting.

The music was great. Hearing the theme song from Mario played by a full orchestra was a treat. And of course there was a selection from World of Warcraft, which made me want to come home and play as soon as possible.

In fact, it's Sunday and we haven't even showered yet, but we have coffee and I think some WoW is in order. Shoes optional.

Cat Quilt

I have this inability to throw a scrap of fabric away if it is bigger than a dollar bill. Next to my fabric in the sewing room is an overflowing box stuffed with folded scraps. The mountain rises and falls, depending on my inspiration level. Last summer I patched together an entire sheet of fabric and made a dress for Calliope.


I've been experimenting with quilting a bit, and know that I love the look of hand-made quilts rather than machine. But there were all these scraps, you see, and I thought why not do a little experiment and see what a totally machine made quilt would look and feel like? I had a specific pile of fabric left over from another project and each piece was cut in more or less the same triangle shape. I just sewed them together in pairs, then ironed out seams and joined into bigger pairs, then strips, then put the strips together. I ended up with something bigger than a pillow cover but smaller than a crib quilt. A cat-quilt, if I may term it thusly.

I put in one layer of very thin lightweight wool batting, backed it with muslin, and put my walking foot on the sewing machine. The triangles suggested a zig zag pattern and I went with that for the quilting in plain white thread. Then I put on the binding (muslin again) and finished that up by hand. Even on a machine quilted piece the binding has to go on by hand or else it gets squeezed along the seam and looks bad in my opinion.


Final verdict: Ok for cats. Or in my case, my bedside table where the little quilt now resides and provides a pleasant backdrop to my lamp, alarm clock, DS, and a book. It came out very very thin and I think that may be the loft of the batting. Just way too low. There is no fluff to it. But I think that also comes from the very tight machine stitching. There is no break between stitches as there is in hand-sewn, no in-and-out gap.

I think I'll try it again sometime with a fluffier loft and perhaps looser tension on the machine.

White is in

We had a lovely few inches of snow yesterday afternoon, the kind that sticks to all of the branches. At one point after dark we heard a huge Crack! but couldn't see any trees that had fallen over. Right after the sound we both ducked, as if that would help if the tree hit our house. Must have been in some other unfortunate person's yard.

To keep up the white theme Charlie made clam chowder. He uses a slightly altered "pantry chowder" recipe from a Cook's Illustrated cookbook. It's hard to find fresh clams in January, but canned clams and their juice work like a charm. In my first posting, I completely screwed up his recipe so here it is with the corrections. Or in Charlie's words, "The Real Chowder."


Charlie Chowda

4 6.5 oz cans minced clams, juice drained and reserved
two 8-oz bottles clam juice plus 1 c water
4 slices peppered thick-cut bacon, cut into 1/4 inch pieces
1 lrg. Spanish onion, diced
1 leek (white/some green), diced
2 Tbs flour
1 1/2 lbs. 3-4 red "new" potatoes, scrubbed and diced in 1/4" cubes
2 bay leaves
1/2 tsp. dried thyme (French if possible)
1c heavy cream
LOTS of black pepper
salt to taste

> Fry bacon in a pot until it crisps, then add onion and leek and saute till softened
> NOTE: add a little olive oil or butter if bacon is lean
> Add flour, stir until lightly colored, about 1 minute
> Pour a little bit of the clam juice into the pan and scrape up all of the tasty bits that have stuck to the bottom
> Slowly add the rest of the clam juice, then add potatoes, bay leaf, and thyme. Simmer till potatoes are tender, about 30 minutes
> Add clams, then slowly stream in the cream, stirring to incorporate well. Adjust salt and pepper. Bring to a simmer and let it mellow for a few minutes on the stove, then serve.
> Serve it with oyster crackers, unless you are crazy

Kryptonite

I have finally found it, that thing against which I am completely powerless. I held this in my hand and couldn't do a thing but wipe a tear from my eye and try to control the goofy grin taking over my face. We gave jam to many friends over the holidays, and one of the empty jars was returned with a thank you note.


There's something about little kid handwriting and art that just completely slays me. It's so earnest! It was all I could do not to send Charlie back to work with an entire *flat* of jam for them. I settled on one jar. Hopefully little girls like peaches just as much as they like blueberries.


Secret peek: work in progress. The frothy rainbow is a perfect antidote for these days when I really can't even remember when I last saw the sun.

Jive Turkeys

Jive Turkeys That I Do Not Like:

The jerk who sideswiped Charlie's car when it was parked in the back empty ocean of the Fred Meyer parking lot on Monday afternoon. I parked it there because his car is rather big, and I don't like squeezing into a space. When I got out to walk into the store, I could have flung my arms out and spun around while singing the intro to "The Sound of Music" and not hit a single auto. But somehow, someone managed to scrape up the entire driver's side of the car while I was shopping. The scratches are high enough that it must have been another big car. A big car driven by a JERK.

I spent half of my day running around to Woodinville town hall, where I spoke to the police chief who was lovely and nice (he came out from his desk all covered in gold braid and navy blue just to help me) but ultimately couldn't help me because the accident was in Redmond, and then to the Redmond town hall where I addressed a surly automaton behind plexiglass and was pretty much told to take a particular form and shove it. All I needed was to file a police report so Geico could claim uninsured motorist coverage instead of the regular deductible. Since there is a 72 hour deadline, this mail-in-only-to-Olympia form is going to do me no good at all. Things will still get fixed and work out fine, but I'll have to satisfy a bigger deductible to do it.

Next time I will try to get in an accident in my own town.

Jive Turkeys That I Do Very Much Like:



The turkeys have finally figured out that I am not going to attack them if they come near me. For about a month they've had a good grasp of the human=corn equation but couldn't quite bring themselves to eat out of my hand. Last week they took the plunge and today I documented it for the first time. It also shows the shocking size difference between them and Gladys.

The Tapping

Once upon a morning dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

To be precise, the tapping was from my chamber *window.* It was 7.30 am and the sun had barely turned the light blue outside. I nearly jumped out of my skin because one never expects a polite tapping to come from their bedroom window----on the second floor of the house.

There she stood with head cocked and I could hear her grousing and clucking through the window, "where is my CORN?" Gladys decided to be all independent last night and didn't go in to sleep with the turkeys. Silly chicken, picking a night when we got a few inches of snow to sleep in the trees. I suppose that hanging out on the porch roof under the bedroom window is slightly warmer. Tonight at dusk I'll have to go out and herd her into the coop. Foolish fowl.


I put the second coat of primer on this afternoon and it is looking pretty good. Tomorrow is the top coat! I also managed to dig up a few "before" pictures of the bathroom. Oh, the horror!

Henry's last drink from the red sink, a favorite activity

First project of 2008

really, what were they thinking with that red?

It's more of a work-in-progress that languished at the 80% completion point. The bizarro "clown bathroom" on our second floor is finally getting finished. Last year we pulled out the sink, tore down hideous wallpaper, ripped out the floor, put in a cork floor, added a new sink and storage, re-textured and painted the walls. Whew! Unfortunately it was all too easy to whisk the shower curtain closed and cover up the last abomination: the strip of red tile in the shower.

You see, the bathroom had been a study in red and white. Only red and white. Over and over. White linoleum with tiny red diamonds. White wallpaper with red diamonds. White vanity with RED sink. The switchplate, the outlet cover, all red and white. It was complete insanity and whoever did that bathroom that way was either blind or sadistic. Or both.

It's now a more pleasing combination of natural tones. The warm (visually and literally on your feet) cork, rich grey walls, white porcelain, an aqua shower curtain. The one thing that remained was the strip of red tile in the shower enclosure. We learned when ripping out the sink backsplash that the previous owners had mudded those tiles directly onto the drywall. It was a beast patching up the huge holes we had to rip in the walls. There was no way I was going to mess with the integrity of the shower enclosure.

I did some research and found an industrial primer/paint combo that works on boats, cars, construction equipment, tanks, and oh yes also tile. Last week I taped off the tile with blue painter's tape and scruffed it up with sandpaper. Today the first coat of primer went on. Whee! You can feel the brain cells dying when you use that stuff. There will be another coat of primer tomorrow and then I can put the paint on and hopefully by the end of the week the last bit of craziness will be gone from that room.

Meor

A total random YouTube find from this evening.....Meor the cat. Sometimes we feel like our cats are loudmouths. After seeing this, we realize that they are shy timid violets.

If you have the time, the video titled "Meor 2" is actually a bit funnier, but I couldn't manage to embed it directly.

Damnable Ribbon

Who, me? But I have sporty shaven cuffs!

I was cleaning out the litterbox today and I found It. Merrily scooping, I was, humming a festive tune and enjoying my feline duties and There It Was. Hanging off of the edge of my scoop, something that should not be in there.

I almost took a photo. It was that amazing. And ultimately that revolting, so I decided not to memorialize the moment. In the midst of that happy cat poop was A Piece Of Ribbon. It was a clump, but being curious I donned a pair of disposable gloves (with so many remodeling projects I have an enormous bag of them) and, well, let's just say I *investigated* the suspicious lump. What started as a wad of red ended up being, once pulled out, a piece of chiffon-like red ribbon Over Two Feet In Length. Digestion had compacted it and mixed it with poop of the average sort, but the evil evidence was there. Oh, Harry, we thought you only addicted to curly ribbon. Well, and we also thought that your veterinary problems were of the digestive acid sort. Now there won't be any ribbon allowed in the house forever more. Obviously he broadened his horizons without ever giving indication. He must have removed an entire length of ribbon from a package, leaving no evidence that it had ever been there.


In more palatable news, I forgot to tell of Gladys' Christmas present to me. She laid her first egg! I was starting to think she was some sort of sexless tomboy chicken but she finally laid an egg. It is teeny tiny, as befitting her banty chicken status, but her subsequent eggs have been delicious. Again they are pointing out the sad difference between home and store eggs. Her yolks are almost hazard orange in their richness. I can't wait to get more chickens in the spring! Following tradition, her first egg was blown out, labeled with her name, and shoved into the wire chicken statue that sits on top of my desk.