Squee! Just finished making this little owl applique for a newborn onesie. I had an old green t-shirt that was destined to become a rag, so I used a piece of that fabric for the owl’s body. I used standard thread for the embroidery. It’s not perfect, but then again, baby will only wear this for the blink of an eye before she outgrows it.
[Update: Owl baby hats are now available via my Etsy shop!]
It was deliciously cold this morning: 27 degrees. (Go ahead, you Midwesterners, laugh at me. But this IS California, after all.) I woke up to the little dog curled up tightly in his bed…and my husband outside in shirt sleeves and wet hair — taking photographs of ice and frost. Brrrr. Even the sunlight looked cold this morning…icy blue and shivering. I grabbed my camera too (well, eventually; after reveling in the warm covers for an rather lovely amount of time), but didn’t leave the warm house. No sirree bob. Instead, I stayed inside and took some photos of lovely baby clothes. Ohhhh, I can’t wait to put a tiny little human into these clothes!
I love this white and fluffy coat from baby Gap! As Lola would say, it’s my favourite and my best, and of course, it’s just like the one Lotta wears in the Charlie & Lola episode/book “I Will be Especially Very Careful.”
[Update 12/11: It’s already sold out!]
what you at my gentle spoken friend
i lack a frame to put you in
when you’re an ocean and a rock away
i feel you in the pocket of my overcoat
my fingers wrap around your words
they take the shape of games we play
i feed your words through my buttonholes
pin them to my fingerless gloves
green and prone to fraying
Continue reading “[listen] ‘ocean & a rock’ [lisa hannigan]”
it’s a quiet day here. it’s been gray outside all day, but gray in a lovely, sleepy, peaceful way. lisa hannigan and damien rice softly sing in the background while the dog sleeps, the Christmas tree lights twinkle, and the votive candles silently flicker.
at the request of generous friends who’ve offered to make me meals after baby is born, i’ve been working for hours on an exhaustive list of allergy-safe foods. you know, those strange ingredients which are free of corn, dairy, and wheat/gluten. they DO exist. they’re just elusive. i’ll post the list here, in PDF form, after i’ve finished compiling it.
speaking of baby, she’s due four-and-a-half weeks from now. eeee! obviously, i know she could be earlier or later than that, but it was quite a reality check when my doctor informed me this week that baby has already dropped. and how do you answer the question, “are you ready for the baby?” i mean, the crib is set up. the changing table is stocked with diapers. the clothes are washed and folded. my tummy is more than ready to stop stretching. the freezer meals…ok, the freezer meals aren’t made. and the hospital bag is not packed.
but how do you answer that question? are we ready for the baby? everything, and nothing, prepares us for this moment. we are altogether entirely ready and entirely unprepared. we are entering the unknown for which we’ve longed and prayed. we do not know what faces us, and yet, we run madly into this moment. we run madly, with eyes open and with eyes closed, with open arms and with overflowing joyful hearts.
and hope shines on, every brightly.
for some reason, this weather makes me feel like i should be reading kierkegaard in a coffee shop. (and doesn’t that sound like the most perfect title for a novel?)
that’s just what i was doing in this photo, which i took four years ago this week. i am flooded with pensive nostalgia looking at this picture again, remembering what was tumbling around in my head as i alternated between staring out that window and scribbling pencil notes in the margins of my copy of fear and trembling. those privately scribbled pencil notes said everything i was thinking, and yet were lacking at the same time; and it was this lacking that kept me reading, kept me underlining, kept me scribbling, kept me yearning.
great Shakespeare!, you who can say everything, everything, everything exactly as it is – and yet why was this torment one you never gave voice to? was it perhaps that you kept it to yourself, like the beloved whose name one still cannot bear the world to mention? for a poet buys this power of words to utter all the grim secrets of others at the cost of a little secret he himself cannot utter. –søren kierkegaard
i just made these little teeny tiny gift bag out of scraps of paper, some tape, and vintage rickrack i found at the thrift store. you can make your own gift bags, too, in any size, using this fantastic tutorial from the scent of water blog.
The Oaxacaborn Blog 