You're Invited....

..to my one year blog party. Hope you like cake. Wow! 365 days of blogging has gone by really really fast. Is it too obvious for me to give something away? Hmmm. Nahhh. Let's do it pals! I made a bunch of fabric cake domes in the spring. Don't ask. It was really fun tinkering till I got a good pattern figured out which required using the pi formula. But back to cake.



I wanna give you this little cake dome. Well, at least one of you! Mmmm, don't eat it! Cover up a pin cushion with it or let your little ones practice birthday parties with it. Somehow one little cake doesn't seem like enough...



So how about a 10-layer cake of of rich autumn goodness made from the finest Bohemian and Chocolate Lollipop ingredients?? Sound good? Now you can have your cake and sew one too. Just leave a comment and I will pick a winner at random to announce on Monday morning. I do think that I will employ my husband's statistical computer know-how to arrive at the randomly chosen winner. He's really good at random stuff. My previous method was slightly taxing, yet fun. My current workload doesn't have enough room for that much fun.



I've said it before, but I want to say again how much I appreciate your interest, encouragement and enthusiasm for what I manage to share with you. I am continually inspired by your support and never dreamed how much I would gain from just putting out a few photos and words about my days. Staring down the hallway of the coming year, I'm looking at lots of enticing things hanging on the walls. A few of them need to be straightened and others need some well-thought-out arranging. But there's also this little window in the hallway that will certainly get a new display every few days. Thanks for taking a peek inside my window. I love it here.
with thanks, Anna

Putting Summer to Bed

We're looking at the back of summer here as she's walking away from us. Or maybe she's just rolling over in bed for a long nap. This is the back of Isabela flitting around her room cleaning up yesterday, still in her Sunday morning dress well after 4. I made this dress in the spring and I wanted the edge ruffles to look like the edge frosting on a cake. Sweet.



The girls are so proud of their newly independent bed-making. They share a room with matching twin beds. We got both the spindle beds for 80$ at an estate sale and I painted them cherry red. I got their coverlets on sale for only 35$ each from Anthropologie when I was pregnant with Eleni and presumed (before I knew for sure) she was a girl and that they would share some day. They only had queen size but I cut them both down and have used the fabric for other stuff in their room.



I loved making my bed when I was little - it was the only part of picking up I looked forward to. It was an empty canvas where I played out various stuffed animal-pillow arrangements and always dragged my mom in for some praise. Certainly you did that too. Isabela and Eleni both give me a big bed reveal when they're done. As I got older it was more about showing off the special corner folds of the top sheet that I learned from my mom once in anticipation of my grandparents using my room. I haven't shown them that yet. Anyway, I've learned to leave their crooked and wrinkled covers alone. (That hasn't come easily for me, but I find it very important.)



We spent the whole day with the whole family cleaning, folding, vacuuming, emptying out, straightening up and so on. Not the littlest though. Eleni, poor pumpkin, has been from one bed to another to another battling a tummy bug that has doubled my laundry load. If you saw my normal laundry load, you would come and help me fold, I just know it. By the time I finally got to my room to make my bed it was too close to bed time to bother. (Just like after you get everyone dressed and you finally go have a look at yourself in the mirror and decide its not worth it. But that could just be me.) All the bed washing the night before left Jeff and I without our comforter when it was time to go to sleep so we stole some warmth from a few other spots. He couldn't believe I let him have the quilt. I loved the way the two totally different blankets tangled (tangoed?) on our bed. I loved how hard we slept under all that hard work. Welcome Fall, make yourself at home.

My trophy shelf

No attempt at making sense between the photo and the content of this long overdue post is one of the main reasons I'm tackling it, so be nice, its been a long week. Juliana and I were quite intrigued by the baby pepper we delivered by cesarean section recently and it seemed like something that could take a prize at a produce fair. I should probably just stick to the not making sense thing. But speaking of prizes, you guys are the best, and I have some thanks to catch up on to some of my fellow bloggerdooodles. I appear to be thought of as either rockin', nice or inspiring by Meg (who cannot stop making beautiful things), Natalie (who seems to think shes only allowed to put gorgeous photos on her site), Linda (who insists on only sharing the darling things in life), Allegra (I am flipping out over the cuteness of her baby) and Hayley (who even dreamed up her own award!). I love little blog awards and I really do appreciate them though I am almost always either tardy or remiss at responding to them or obliging their rules. That'll teach you to ever give me one again. Please forgive me. But can I just say this...how amazing is this little world were we connect and share and all around get better at what we do, whether its knitting, painting, designing, cooking, writing, mothering or just being. Sharing our days in the form of photos and writing, really does seem to just make us better or at the very least not feel alone. It serves so many of us in so many different ways and I for one am thankful for that and thankful for you.
Also I just really wanted to say thanks particularly to those of you who can relate to my shoulder issue yet were very clear to point out that you have never in fact placed candy corn on your shoulder in public (as if I would have expected you to). Yes, that was a sarcastic thanks. Actually, no, I mean it, it made me laugh really hard every time.
You all get the Beautiful Newborn Red Pepper Award 'cause I said so.
Love from here! xo,AM

Mr.Jones and Me, and Shorty McShort-short

Boy I really did it this time. I cannot deny you the story no matter how humiliating since I had to bring it up. But the whole theme of this story is speaking too soon, with just a dash of having weird stuff on your shoulders. On with it.
One afternoon in August as I was preparing for company, I heard a knock at the front door. Before I could even set my sights into the hallway, the kids had answered it and were well into their usual four-headed interrogation process of the poor soul on the porch. Peering through the 8-armed beast I managed a "hello there, can I help you?" as I had never seen this presumably hip guy at my door or anywhere else. Nicely enough he says something like 'yea, I was hoping I could talk to you a minute regarding Joseph'. (Uh-oh.) "Sure", I say and usher the little investigative team back into the house with not a small verbal struggle, and step out for a chat.
He introduces himself as Steve Bowman, which sounded vaguely familiar, but I was more intent on hearing about how my son had apparently been teasing his little girl on the school bus and he just thought he should stop by and talk about it. Of course I felt horrible (yet surprised cause Joseph's the nice one) and apologized and let him know that Joseph would be talked to. Among the offenses was tripping her, trying to make her get off the bus at the wrong stop, and calling her "Shorty McShort-short" which he quoted with a slight grin and which immediately made me cringe because I've heard this verbal abuse in our house before. He insisted it wasn't a big deal and that he just wanted to say hello in hopes that it would stop because his little girl was upset.


I continued to apologize and sympathize and let him know that both our boys had been at the other end of a bit of bullying on the bus so I understand. I also told him how nice it was of him to stop by in person to talk and how lots of parents don't do that sorta thing. We got to talking which led to trading occupation information. He said he's in the music industry (very common in these parts) and they just moved from CA. It gets a little fuzzy right after I asked him who he's played for, because the COUNTING CROWS flew out of his mouth ::My favorite. My college years. My inspirational music in my first I'm-an-adult-now-and-have-my-own-art-studio studio. The music I was convinced was written for me because I kept hearing "Anna" and "Maria" and "Picasso" and zillions of color references. And as it happens, the band that in-utero Joseph danced to in my belly during their concert:: Like I said, fuzzy. And ya know what, I told him all that-well mostly the Adam writing lyrics for me part. He was amused and unpretentious and glad for it. So, kindly he asked me what I did. Said I was a designer and he (even) pointed to my neck/shoulder area and said "textiles?" I replied "yea" with an open mouth grin like how did you know. Then I remembered I had fabric on one shoulder and a tape measure around my neck. Anyway. Yea. I was cool, baby, cool. The above picture shows my fashion accessories of choice when I answered the door. Nice, nice guy and he said his wife would love to meet me, etc, we exchanged info and joked that we were glad Joseph was a stinker to his daughter.

Oh yea, back to the little bullying thing. So I talked to Joseph who denied through very strenuous tears that he even knew who this little girl was and that he ever did anything mean to anyone. We talked for a really long time and I was convinced he was telling the truth especially after the sibling co-bus-riders backed up his story. Also, there is apparently another Joseph on the bus. Hmmm.
So I emailed Steve and his wife to let them know how the questioning went down and that maybe there is another Joseph that needs talking to, etc. and say that its hard for me to have Joseph write an apology when I'm sure he's telling the truth, he has the habit of being very honest so on and so on. There. All better. Jeff comes home and I begin with 'you're never gonna guess who I met today' and for some weird reason he's totally concerned with why he was there and foolishly passing up the simple exciting fact that he was there. I mutter something quickly like "hrmmerniminuh JOSEPH thigsallmoo BULLY shumana DAUGHTER" trying to get on with the important part and he immediately sets dad-eyes on Joseph who is behind me obediently putting away clean silverware. "JOSEPH did you do any of that?!" And I swear I must have felt the spit of the second round of tears against my back but this time it was accompanied with a "YES I DID ALL THAT STUFF. I'M SOOOORRRrrryyy" Blah Blah Blah. Can you imagine!? I was so understanding yet firm (I thought) in my questioning and he completely pulled the wool over me! All Jeff had to do was ask in that 6foot5 voice of his and an instant confession appears out of no where like rain after a drought.
Ashamed, Joseph and I both had to go and write our apologies. Both were accepted. Nice, nice people. And my husband? I love him. He really has written songs about me and I love those too.
whew. kids.
Anna Maria

Not necessarily in order of importance

I've thought of a only a few different reasons why I might do this shoulder thing all the time. Maybe I miss burping babies. Maybe I'm cold sometimes. Or maybe I really do have my hands full like everyone says I must so I start using my shoulders. I very, very often am seen with a fold of fabric, a dishcloth, or a lonely sock waiting to be matched on my shoulder. I will leave it there forever, waiting until I'm in the right spot of the house or studio to unload it without making a special trip. And just like pushing your glasses up your nose once your contacts are already in, only to find there are no glasses there so you poke yourself between the eyes, I often reach to unload my shoulder once the whatever is already gone. All seems normal enough, right?
Last night Juliana and I did our bi-weekly trip to Costco for our typical giant quantities of food that I will see vanish all too quickly. On the way there she warns me through her sneaky smile that she IS getting a bag of blow-pops. No. Then we have a verbal duel over how normal it is for a 15 year old to stash massive quantities of candy in their rooms. No. It's not normal to store blowpops in your room. We only had 45 minutes to pile everything in before closing time, and in so doing, we forgot Gatorade for Bela who isn't feeling well. We opted to swing by the local grocer down the road for yet another stop on the way home. Inside we were greeted by a seasonal display of candy and some kid Juliana knows who works there. She talks to the kid, I grab a small bag of candy corn and head for the sports drinks.



About halfway to getting the Gatorade, I pass a gentleman who kinda smiles at me in passing and glances down at my shoulder then makes a face that says he doesn't know what kind of face to make next. After passing him, I couldn't figure out the weirdness. Then something clicks in my brain, and I reach up to feel the bag of candy corn that I was balancing on one shoulder walking through the store. Not normal. Didn't even know I had done that. Its like my shoulder is this empty spot that needs to be filled as I'm always trying to keep my hands free to type, cut, sew, draw, cook, and comfort. Juliana catches up to me and I'm just standing there in the aisle laughing at myself. I told her what just transpired and she said "thats it, I'm getting blowpops". And she did. I felt like she won the normal contest so she got the stupid gum-suckers. I'm not even going to tell you about the fabric I had around my neck and on one shoulder when the former drummer for the Counting Crows showed up at my door a few weeks ago.



Here is some more fall sweetness and thanks to so many of you who told me about it. The October issue of Country Living has a pretty display of fall fabrics including Choc Pop and they go on to talk about patchin' fashion and the influence of craftiness in the world of style. But we knew that didn't we?
Okay back to writing and my bowl of candy corn. Whew, glad I got all that off my shoulders.
Enjoy your weekend my friends, oxoxo,AM

She was made of grasses and gardens

Well here is the final home for the fanciful little embroideries that occupied me for a few days. They are quite happy here I do believe. A fall jacket for Isabela. Not quilty and heavy for really cold days, but just warm enough for gathering up the last remnants of summer as a cool breeze moves in. Just like it did today. It was wonderful and made me nostalgic for gleefully anticipating fall as a child.



Each pocket got quite the inspection from the now expert. She thought the birdie could hold some more flowers for her once they were quickly plucked without permission from the fledgling newly-planted baby crepe myrtles. Kinda hard to reprimand the chubby little hands in the viewfinder whilst taking pictures, because they seemed to belong to a little flower fairy and not my Bela. How could you punish a flower fairy?



One, two, three, four, five, six. "This little phlox flower has more petals than the one you stitched on here mommy".



"Oh but look at your boots, sweetie, that little pink flower only has four petals. See. We're giving all the numbers a chance." Smiles exchanged.



I chose some of my pal's fabric for the yoke. She always comes in handy for stabilizing some silly prints. Everything I am making these days must have a yoke. They are so pretty and antique feeling, don't you think? Especially for a lady-like waist length gathered coat featuring a mini peter pan collar. It's lined in pale blue flannel back satin that looks like an autumn sky.



I could have played with her and the coat and the flowers and the camera all afternoon. I said that she would never see the world the same since she's learned to represent life in stitches. She was talking to me as I took pictures about other things we should stitch. Sticks, bugs, houses, dogs. I do hope she stitches all these memories together and gives them to her little one some day.
Oh, time passes.
xoAM

Pinning me down

I'm rolled up in a pod and not sure how I feel about it. I squinted my eyes shut for about the first two minutes of playing it back after I was recorded, and then decided it would be okay. I think its okay. I almost didn't listen to it, because, you absolutely never sound like what you think you sound like. But maybe I sound like what you think I sound like. If I sound like a big ball of talkity-talkiness, then yes, thats me. Like that ball of fabric strips up there all wound up and pinned together and plopped on the wires of communicado nouveau.
Lori at SewForthNow asked me a while ago to chat with her about my fabric brain and we finally pinned down a time to do so. Thanks Lori! Her blog is essentially a list of program notes that refer to each of her podcast entries. So you can visit her sites to get to the interview or you can click on the new podcast interview link over there on the right under "More of me at" to download the mp3 and have a listen. For the first 10 or so minutes Lori is updating her frequent listeners with her personal progress on a sew along and also provides a little fabric history before she interviews moi. It was fun. Always good to know someone cares.
I do think I said what I think, I think. Anyway, hope you enjoy listening to the ramble of thoughts. I give away a few new fabric collection titles and my book title. And also I mostly talk about my fabric designing process, the mental process and the physical process. I talk about it as though someone wants to know. Hmmm. The nerve! xoAM

More yarns, loops, threads and thoughts

Yay. I got the rug I've been wanting. After a year of watching it, I got it on sale. Its soooo soft and Leo looks really pretty on it. The gold stripes that surround the black stripes remind me of his sweet eyes. I've also been receiving and reviewing some samples of the first line of needlepoint pillows that I designed, debuting next year. So theres just a tiny tease up there. It is so fun to see my art translated into needlepoint. Really, really cool. Makes me want to needlepoint actually. These pillows will be finished goods though, and not like the kind you do yourself. Still, though. It makes me want to needlepoint something myself. But I'll just lay around and think for now.
I'm happy. xoAM

Hanging on to summer by a thread

That was quick. I showed Isabela how to do a simple split stitch and she instantly sunk into a new favorite time eater. Then she chose her own fabric, requested an owl drawing and got to it. Only stopping for me to change her thread colors and an occasional 16 thread pile-up underneath.



Isn't she doing great? I think about what she'd be missing out on if she never saw me working on my own little weekend stitch-away. Reminds me of learning to use the sewing machine at about the same age. I could not wait to figure that thing out after watching dress after dress rattle through it by my mom. I also remember learning to embroider and choosing a kit at the store that was of a little girl bending over to pick some flowers. I chose it because her little bloomers were showing and the instructional photo showed them rendered in white french knots to look like lace. I was dying to learn french knots.



These are some of the little goodies I was playing with to keep myself out of the studio over the weekend.

It was with me on the patio, in the living room during the kids' Looney Tunes marathon, by the pool, at dance practice, at the dining room table, on Juliana's bed til 1am and likely more places I can't remember. Happy, happy occupation. I didn't know until about half way through that chickee what they would end up to be, but now I do. More on that later.

I told Jeff that Isabela will never see the world the same now that she knows how to do this. I think he believed me. I certainly believe me. I will draw anything for her to stitch, anything at all. Even Daffy Duck. I'd like to encourage her to stitch her own drawings too. I really had no idea what nimble little fingers she had. But how would I? We both learned something new.

xoxo, Anna