Manly Men

Sometimes I go to Goodwill with hopes of finding some fabulous fabric. Sometimes I throw down $0.99 when I’ve found the perfect one.

Let’s check out a close up.

Lot’s of mountain men enjoying nature as one should — half naked and wearing coy expressions. It’s in pillowcase form currently (a single pillowcase made of this fabric … I’m so curious for this fabric’s backstory). I have no idea what form it might take next, but for now Jack is simply enjoying a new piece of fabric with which to cuddle.

Waging the Battle

I used to have daydreams about which town would claim me. As a twelve-year-old who hoped to someday see her name in lights, I envisioned signs welcoming visitors to Delphi, IN and Moose Lake, MN with:

WELCOME TO _______________
Population 5,000
Home of Claire Brosman

My upbringing was split between these two towns as we followed Dad to new camping opportunities. Sometimes I would grapple with the decision about which town I most wanted to claim me. It always ended up being Moose Lake, even though over the years Indiana has become my true home. Somehow I developed relationships with the lakes, trees, and wildlife of Minnesota that far outweighed the relationships I developed with actual people during my formative years in Indiana. 

Our small wood cabin in Minnesota surrounded by pines and quaking aspens, butting up to Sturgeon Lake, was what some would call a rodent-infested dwelling, but my memories are more like tales from a children’s fairy tale. The squirrels helped tuck me in at night as they peered down at me from their home in the fluorescent lights in my bedroom. The flying squirrel that swung from window valance to window valance in the living room was more carnival than cause for alarm. After endless nights of sleeping on a top bunk listening to the tiny scraping of squirrel and chipmunk toenails on the drop-panel ceiling above my head, I came to accept them as part of the territory — just another one of life’s details.

So, how is it now that I see squirrels as my foes? Currently I’m trying to balance my fairy tale-like memories with the turf battle going on in our garden. Each time I go out to the bed to check the fruits of our efforts, I find butternut squash with tiny teeth marks of flesh carved out. At first, I blamed it on our dog’s toenails from the times he lurched madly through the back patch on the scent of a tennis ball. But now I can’t fool myself anymore. The grooves continue to grow and Jack has long since stopped running through the squash for fear of the jungle it has become.

So tonight I staked out sides.

Trimmings of Jack’s hair from his summer cut are sprinkled on and around the growing squash. I’m dreaming of a chicken wire cage to contain our garden that occupies over 300 cubic feet, which is likely completely illogical and inefficient. What I really want to do is grow a patch for the squirrels and let them fill their cheeks adorably full while standing on their haunches. I want to make this work — cohabitate with them as well as we can — but I’m realizing it might not be the storybook situation I hope for.

Any suggestions?

Blue Dress

In my last post I mentioned that I was back in the groove with sewing. There were a few things that had taken me out of the groove… errrr, or that caused me to never actually be IN the groove… namely my inability to use my machines.

I’m embarrassed to admit that both machines had very simple fixes. So simple. Like threading the bobbin properly for my sewing machine and putting my presser foot DOWN on my serger. Yes, my head has been full lately. Yes, that is not actually an excuse.

However, I tackled the problems-that-shouldn’t-have-been-problems-in-the-first-place and whipped up a simple little dress this weekend. I’d cut it ages ago and simply serged it Sunday, hemmed it and added the collar on Monday, and wore it to work on Tuesday. It was my first dress, but I’m pretty happy with it. I actually got some nice comments on it today (and I wasn’t wearing a sign that said, “I made this. Please indulge my decision to wear something homemade by commenting favorably on it.).

Anyway, here are some huge pictures so you can see the details. The pattern is a frankenstein of multiple patterns found in the Sew U Home Stretch: The Built by Wendy Guide for Sewing Knit Fabrics. I highly recommend it. It makes sense out of sewing, which is something I always longed for but never had. Thanks, Wendy.

Front view of the dress in action. Can’t take a picture without entertaining the dog. He thought I had a treat. He was greatly disappointed.

Dear Summer,

Thank you for sharing your sunshine. It’s so generous of you.

This past week and weekend proved again that summer produces extraordinary fun. It might actually just be ordinary fun, but the warmth and the sun and the life that it brings makes it extra special.

This week summer fun came in the form of a grilled pizza buffet with friends, group viewing of Troll 2 (seriously, the best WORST movie ever. Ever.), resuming Book Club after a long hiatus and in the reincarnated form of Movie Club, cupcake-eating with a friend I see too infrequently, and watching fireflies and drinking mojitos in a friend’s backyard.

I also got a little sewing in– made a simple little camera case for my new camera. Not the highest quality piece so not worth sharing, but I had a wonderful helper.

I’ve also been spending lots of time in the garden trying to combat the insects that are taking over — hand-plucking cabbage worms from our brussels sprouts and sprinkling flour and salt on our leaves. Something should work eventually, but in the meantime our garden is producing something at least … well, kind of. Even though I was only able to gather three pea pods, they were so satisfyingly delicious. And they were beautiful.

Also, one of my dearest friends received a horribly overdue birthday gift in the mail so I can post pictures of that little project. This reversible apron was just the thing to get me sewing again. It’s made from a thrifted pillowcase and was created on the fly with no pattern. Of course, there are obvious signs it was made without a pattern, like the way it doesn’t extend much past the hips so it’s not great for wiping hands — a critical component of any apron. Sorry, Maryann!

Regan indulged me by taking the pictures below. He’s pretty much the best when it comes to making things look nice. He’s a good man, that one.