enjoy the silence

I started the eve thinking that getting a couple of hours of tank sewing time in would be nice.

And I wished away, and wished away, and wished away all of the other folk so hard.

What? I adore ALL of my people, but a girl needs to be alone sometimes.

Was kind of a tough day for all of us. I’m glad we know to retreat.

And when everyone finally did leave, I found myself enjoying the silence.

So I didn’t sew at all. I hung with the dogs and did a little organizing and took a long, hot bath and realized that my default self-care piece of needing to accomplish SOMETHING isn’t all that self-care-esque all the time.

Sometimes I just need to sit and learn to be at peace amongst the chaos. So I did that and it was good.

Also, I have new cowgirl boots and I love them.



day pass

This weekend, I escaped to this:

a tire swing


sleepy sunflowers

little puggle on the prairie

handprints in lobster love

favourite stove ever

epic grilled cheese sandwhich

a welsh cardigan corgi

a boy and his toys

the back 40

And I don’t feel guilty at all.

$10 wishes from a 2 bit troll

As part of my incentive to stay in and sew my ass off for sewcation 2012, I’ve not washed my hair ALL WEEK.

Ew, right?

But it’s so good for it. My curly, horsey hair loves bathing in its own oils, so I’m happy to provide it those every once in a while with the added bonus of being far too ashamed to leave the house with hair like this.

You’re more than welcome to come by and rub or blow on it for good luck at bingo or to make a wish. I’m charging $10/rub. You KNOW you wanna!


wood nymph

I was treated to a much needed and long overdue visit with some dear friends…rocks, really…in the wilds of the Haliburton highlands.

Vizzini is not quite convinced that he's a car dog, but he does ok

The city slipped away in a blink in spite of the hour and a half long ride to get up there. Being a carless wonder, I usually abhor long car rides, but time flies when you’re catching up with your lovelies, non?

The area itself is pretty magical, but my friends’ home is replete with oddities like a nithing pole, weird horse-relates paraphelia and a gazillion things made of wrought iron hanging in random places, all left by the previous owners that really make me scratch my head.

we're all adults here, I'm sure you can guess what the bottle is for

I covet that damn cow bell. Every porch should have one.

roughin' it in Maddens and a skirt 'cause that's how I roll

One of our camp works at the Haliburton Forest and Wildlife Preserve (which you should really make a point of visiting if you’re in the area) as did many of the various and sundry visitors by over the weekend. There was a lot of talk that I really couldn’t relate to, as such, but it was interesting and fun to hear how others create and participate in community SO very different from my own.

sled-puggle! mush!

And, as is tradition, there was food. Lots and lots of delicious food.


playing reanimator?

I got to introduce a whole new slew of people to the deliciousness that is challah. This is the recipe I kinda, sorta follow.


And the sounds, people. The sounds. I wish there were more effective ways of capturing sounds. Everything from spring peepers to loons to woodpeckers to coyotes to crazy adults singing “deep fryyyyyyyyyer, in MY BED!!!”

Great weekend. Pitcher is filled. Was very glad to return to normal inner city living noises, but I love that I have that option to escape it all sometimes.

something from nothing

Being a kitchen creative has been a bit of a life saver for me. Sometimes it’s the only creativity I can justify because I have too many other things going on, but cooking something, ANYTHING, is a great way to exorcise the dark needies in a way that turns all that goes on in my head into something lovely and happy-making.

My kitchen, in all of its usual chaos, is a place I can go to and become inspired to create immediately. I can look around and find something ugly, like this bunch of apples that were about to go bad:

And from finding apples, or zucchini, or whatever else needs some TLC before it gets wasted, to end product I sprinkle some of this and process events and sprinkle some of that and relive a confusing or difficult conversation and then I add a little of something else and the cymbal-wielding monkey that is my psyche works away at figuring my shit out and the automatic parts of my brain kick-in and focus elsewhere on creating:

How cool is it that our brains get to work that way? That they can just separate their processes and make magic happen on so many different levels? That we can let that cymbal monkey do its thing and have something delicious be the product of dealing with all of those dark thoughts: