Revisited

...or, "how I'm finally realizing the benefits of spending months pouring through antique stores in search of the perfect blue and clear bottles."

I rewarded my spring cleaning efforts with a bouquet of spray roses - the perfect fillers to a handful of the glass bottles I collected for the wedding.

I bough two or three antique glass bottles at a time throughout the fall, falling in love with the subtle differences in glass color, shape and the antique advertising of different potions and remedies in raised letters and decorations along the glass.

Not only do these make the sweetest mini-vases, it's an excuse to spring-clean the generic vases we have lying around. 

Wouldn't it be great if wedding rental businesses had vintage sections? (pssst, hi Grace!)

chop wood, carry water, love Vermont.

Even if you weren't born here, but especially if you were, Vermont starts a relationship with you, like a sibling. It gets in your bones and becomes an intractable part of your stories. Yes, it is cold and sometimes chronically uneventful, but behind hundreds of turns are farms, trees, lakes and heart-stopping color.

All this on a regular drive home. On a Tuesday. Minimal trespassing, required.

These pictures were taken a month ago, in February with a blanket of snow.  Now it's mud season and if she is supposed to have fun, our dog's paws are chronically dirty. The trees are waiting. The ground makes giant sucking or slipping sounds when you walk.  I try to clean.  Maybe that's an overstatement: I dream of a clean and inspiring space. Instead, I read an magazine article about cleaning.  In it is an old zen proverb:

"Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water."

At its most beautiful, Vermont is exquisite. But most days if we're supposed to have any fun, I have to  convince myself to take a break, cake my shoes in mud and go out into the sunshine; grab the dog and towel off her paws (an experience she detests); set aside illusions of the perfect house and take our home room by room.

It's still Vermont, I'm still in love.

ringing

 

'Something old' doesn't really capture it. We found some of the most beautiful pieces of lace from my great grandmother's wedding dress. It is intricate with leafy tendrils and floral flourishes.  I wanted to use it somehow in my wedding, but was hesitant to take a step to detach or re-purpose pieces of it without having a clear design in mind. I unraveled and washed it carefully and there it sat. Many ideas, no clear plan.

In the end I went simple, using the smallest piece for my ring pillow, and made a corresponding pillow for Drew's ring. This happened the day before the wedding, with my mom's help. An old, (or rather new sweater that accidentally ended up in the dryer) was used for the base. 

 

A simple bit of thin lace ribbon to hold the ring finished mine. Velvet ribbon & a button for Drew's. There were also small straps on the underside so the boys could hold them easily with them falling.

thirty one.

It is finally snowing again and I am practicing the fine art of doing only things I love on my birthday. I  spent the day mostly alone thinking about all of the years ahead. Coupled with sweet touches, thoughtful notes, a little yoga, a latte and a new mary oliver book everything looks luscious and love filled and ready for new shifts and changes. Scrolling through a few images from the last year, I realize how much has to do with light. And love. And a little space to figure it all out.

Here's to more of that. And to all of the people who fill the space between and make my world full.

(1. my christmas gift from O, a hand sewn grey pillow, adorable; 2. sun and snow a few days after our wedding - oh Vermont!; 3. Milkpod exploding - photographed on a ski; 4. Heart in the snow; 5. My great-grandma's wedding lace; 6. Peony opening; 7. Wedding linens; 8. green washed wall & dogwood in Brooklyn; 9. Blurry drive home from Lake Champlain)

Edible.

I meant to post something for Valentine's Day but got lost (metaphorically) on a long xc ski with Casey, the happiest dog on the planet, while the boys were off downhill skiing.

I could describe all of the things I don't like about valentines day. But it turns out, I kind of like the underlying sentiment. I love love and dopamine and all of those chemicals. And I'm totally charmed by things like this. My imagined Valentine's Day post was a list of things that make me feel fluttery and love-filled. So I was gathering all of the things I love and I found this photo of olives from our mini-moon to Stowe. I got distracted. This kind of thing happens to me, a lot. Especially if the task at hand is looking at pretty things. So here we are: you, me and this adorable mini-cast iron pot of olives and I don't really want to list things.

Last night Drew actually came home with olives  and flowers. I made purple rice which the boys refused to eat until they tried it, ate half of it and remembered they didn't like it. Everyone ate most of their dinner and we iced cookies and laughed about things and fell asleep watching the Olympics. So I forgot to post about what I really wanted to post about (dopamine, norepinephrine and oxytocin). Maybe I'll do that today. 

In the mean time here's a tiny cast iron pot with olives. It's pretty great. 

And really: Everything I would have conveyed is summed up in this and (for me) a little of this (plus all of the images in the links to the right) and whatever music makes you glad you were born.

Oh! hello, Love.

I made my own wedding invitations and used that as an excuse to talk about not making valentine's day cards this year. But old habits die hard. I've been making valentine's day cards (en mass) for 8 years now, which is about as religious as I've ever been about anything and frankly, I love it. So, why stop now.

I set off to make them on Sunday, late, but you know what they say about things being better late. Then the craft store in Middlebury was closed. On Sunday. Sunday. God's day, and also my official day for "making things." I try not to take it personally.

Luckily, the co-op was open, and there was this potato for sale.

I make do.

Can you read this?
That's a problem.
Can you guess why?
That's right.
Potatoes must be carved in reverse,
charming as "!ho olleh evol" might look.

Like that. Luckily, it was a 2.14lb potato. Plenty of love to spare.

I Heart Quilts (Quilts Heart CarSharing)

I think about quilts. I have an internal file of new ones to make.  I make little sketches and buy fabric.  Sometimes I spend a few weeks making lots of little quilts. I listen to VPR and new music from Drew. Sewing and cutting and getting lost in stitching.

They're not all great and they're not all hand quilted, but a day spent like that always makes me darn happy. Then suddenly a year passes and I haven't done any quilt sewing. I walk by my little stacks of fabric. They move increasingly into their corners. I think "I used to make quilts." 

Last year, about this time, I had an idea to make a quilt with lots of hearts all fluttering around, barely sewn down. I didn't wonder how I'd wash it.  I just wanted to make it. Little sketches tucked in my pocket (or,  crumpled in the bottom of my bag) I bought fabric, cut and started piecing it together.

But then I hung it on my studio wall, and sort of liked it there. Enough to leave it up, indefinitely.

Recently some friends were looking for art donations for Carshare, a great new local organization. They have a fundraiser upcoming. It has a heart filled theme. I remembered that partially pinned quilt on my wall and thought I should anti-procrastinate and finish it up. Instead I started over (mainly because said studio is an hour away. oh Middlebury, why are you so far from Burlington?). I thought I should give it to someone, like the carshare people. Especially because we drive so much (though we try to car share, we can't always). So this quilt is like my personal carbon offset for all of the miles Drew and I drive (wherein I have thoughts about quilting and valentine's day card making. I wager most of Drew's are spent thinking about Mad River Glen). Someday soon, we'll drive less.

Here are a few images from the piecing process and machine sewn rows of top stitching. It's almost done. If you are local, you can swing on over and make a bid!

Good night quilt. Thanks for being made.