At the Beach comments: 151

For the very first time. What an awesome day, in every single solitary way.

Cannon Beach, Oregon
June 24, 2014

Daisy Days comments: 78

The weather here has been very cold and very rainy and very gray and very dim this past week. Every night I've been piling several quilts on top of me and my sofa-seat and knitting, knitting, knitting, or taking warm baths by candlelight in the afternoon with my girl, who lounges in my lap and lets me pour warm water over her for an hour; we turn the hot tap a few times because we sit for so long it gets too cold. The swimming pool is supposed to open next week and I simply can't imagine this. A lonely, empty pool, and us Portlanders at home in the steamy bathtub.

So the midsummer festival felt more like late spring, with daisies and dancing girls and our college friends (and how lucky we are to have them here, thousands of miles away from where we all went to college!). Last year I made Amelia a baby bunad (a traditional Norwegian folk dress; hers was inspired by the beautiful dresses of the Dovre region of Norway, where her birthfather's family is from). This year I just happened to find this little red calico dress at the resale shop and it fit her perfectly. It is a handmade dress, too, so I couldn't resist. I planned to make her a new Norwegian dress every year so I'll just have to start planning for Christmas because I think little red will be too small by then. Super cute princess-seamed pattern, though. I love princess-seamed dresses. You don't see them too much lately (early '80s — I'm just sayin'!).

We had such a nice Father's Day, home all day alone together, cooking and playing. It was just a perfect day with my loves. I made a Dutch baby pancake and scrambled eggs with onions and mushrooms for Andy for breakfast. He made an awesome — possibly his best one ever — stuffed pizza last night. His recipe is the Edwardo's Famous Stuffed Spinach Pizza from the book Pizza: More than 60 Recipes for Delicious Homemade Pizza. If you aren't sure what Chicago stuffed pizza is, I will tell you: Think of an actual double-crust pie. There's a crust on the bottom, and then inside is all of the mozzarella cheese and a ton of fresh spinach. You pack it in. Then there's another crust on the top, and you crimp up the edges, just like with a pie. And on top of this top crust you add a light layer of a lovely, chunky, light tomato-and-garlic sauce, and then just a bit of sprinkled parmesan cheese. The whole thing is a massive concoction. You bake it in a cheesecake pan (I waitressed at Geppetto's in Oak Park after college, and we had special springform pans for our pizzas there, larger and shallower than a typical cheesecake pan; I need to look for one because I think it would help our crust thin out a bit). It weighs — actually, I have no idea how much it weighs, but a lot! The recipe in this book really does taste so much like Edwardo's pizza (which I liked better than Geppetto's, or even Gino's [Chicagoans, you know all these, right?]). Andy makes this about once a year and it is one of my favorite things. I love it, and it tastes like home.

I also made the Bangkok peanut ice cream from my sister's recipe and that was very delicious. Someone asked if this was a Jeni's recipe and I didn't know what that meant, so I looked it up and discovered that yes, it is! (And I am so getting her book.) I found a recipe online for the Bangkok peanut here. I thought it was really lovely — very subtle but with some texture and a bit of a kick from the cayenne pepper. Making ice cream has given me a whole new appreciation for buying ice cream. I have no idea where this ice cream thing I'm going through came from, really. I have really been enjoying it — and by the time it's time to eat it, you really only need to have the smallest of scoops to be happy. I have a lot of ice cream in my freezer. Which makes one feels rather secure. So that's nice.

Today Amelia and I are going to go to the fabric store. I need some skirts. I have a lot of fabric in my stash but it's all small amounts. I think we'll go to Knittin' Kitten tomorrow and look for '80s calicoes, too.

***My Ravelry page for the Fimma sweater is here :)

June Afternoon comments: 49

Oh, summertime: Some days you really do live up to every possible winter daydream I've ever had.

***This post will tell you about that rectangle quilt :)

Home and Away comments: 103

Long birthday weekends are pretty awesome. Andy's involved cake (and yes, I must tell you that I truly think that the cake Martha made for us last summer trumps my longtime go-to chocolate cake, the Hershey's Deep Dark Chocolate Cake! I do still always make the Cloudburst Frosting (scroll down on that page a bit), though; I don't know if I'll ever love a frosting more than this one, but I'm willing to give it a go [I love frosting, especially frostings that are mellow, like this one]); lots of salad rolls, both take-out (as was the entire green-curry-shrimp birthday dinner) and homemade (I used this recipe, and added silken tofu, and it was wonderful); lots of driving (we got our new car); lots of waterfalls and gorgeous views (and babies signing "rain," as she is doing, above [draw both hands down with straight fingers, like rain falling]); and lots of backyard laziness and baby lovin'. It was such a nice weekend, and soooooo nice to have some time off, for both of us. Oh, so nice.

I don't think I realized how stressful buying a car was until it was over. I firmly believe that Andy and I are probably the worst possible car buyers on earth. Everything I read about how to act when you're buying a car is pretty much the exact opposite of what we did. I'm still feeling bewildered about why cars should have different prices for different people, depending on how they negotiate. It reminds me of when I was in Italy (twenty-three years ago), at the post office, asking how much it cost to mail a postcard. The post office dude literally looked me up and down, leaned back, crossed his arms, and said, appraisingly, "For you? Ninety thousand lire!" or ninety million lire, or ninety lire, or whatever it was. I stood there thinking, "No, not just for me, for everyone!" (And I swear, after I paid it, he just tossed the postcard over this shoulder, anyway. Okay, I might be exaggerating that. But seriously, Martha, did you ever get my postcard from Rome?)

And that's how I feel about car shopping, too. Shouldn't there just be a price, and then you pay it if you want to? And if you don't want to pay that you keep shopping? I don't know. There's this point in the process where you're basically like, "Okay, just gimme the damn thing already and let's go home!" Sadly, that point is reached about five minutes into the process for both Andy and me. We're looking at cars but we're thinking, in tandem, "Where should we eat? Is it gonna be sunny all day? Do you want to watch Psych musical again tonight?" and it's all kind of a cool-customer bust.

Eventually, by some miracle, I knew exactly which car I wanted. Certified pre-owned in the model I liked, 2013, and silver. Boom. But none were currently available within 100 miles. :( I stalked the web site of the dealer where we bought our first car (which actually was a pretty good experience, as far as I recall). Suddenly one came up — a miracle! — just when I needed it. I called the dealership so fast I could hardly talk: "Oh my gosh! Hold that car! I'm so excited! I want that one!!! Don't let anyone look at it! I want it!!!!!!!!" I had no idea what the price was, at that point. I told my friend what I did and she about fell off the phone she was laughing so hard. The salesman was probably like, "Awesome, easiest rent I've ever made in my life, lady right there in the blue."

And yeah, we did buy that car (amazingly, from the same guy who sold us our 1995 Volvo sixteen years ago). It is quite lovely. It has Bluetooth. I didn't even know what that was. Our old car didn't even have a CD player (and it had started breaking down every six months or so, and, lately, every week). I said from behind my new steering wheel to Andy as we wound through the gorge on the historic highway, through tall trees and forests of Queen Anne's Lace, watching the blue and green ridges fade into the haze of a perfect summer day,  "You don't even realize how used to all your stuff not working right you really get." And then we were all, wow, look at us entering the new millenium! Cool! It's an absolute delight to put a baby into a car seat without having to first fold your body into an origami crane, then bump her head on the ceiling of the car, then basically sort of toss her toward the seat in the middle, and hope she lands more or less square, then rearrange her from the side while your back is getting completely jacked, and then tighten the straps (while she's reaching for her doll, or her milk, or her shoe). She's always been a really good sport about being put into the car seat (I really don't know how, but that's kind of her style, and more proof that she does not have my DNA), but I see now that there were times when, especially toward the end of the day, I just didn't want to do it again. When I put her in the new car it's like boom, in, and I'm all, "What? That's it? People do it like this? And we can go to a place, and then maybe go to another place?" I don't know. Anyway, the new car feels very safe and very functional, and I suddenly want to go everywhere. . . .

Rose Time comments: 60

Last night, everyone in this house slept at least an entire EIGHT HOURS. It was magical. I went to bed at 10:00 p.m. and I woke up at 6:00 a.m., even before the boo. She must have been a tired little boo. I really can't remember the last time any of us slept an entire eight hours in one whole stretch. It's weird how getting to do things that you used to be able to do that you really can't do anymore can just make you SO HAPPY, isn't it? Aaaaaaaah. It was awesome.

So, it's rose time here in the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon, U.S.A. Can you believe those big peachy roses in the first photo? And if you could've smelled them, you would've swooned. These were just in someone's front yard, on on of our routes around the neighborhood. I did this:

John William Waterhouse, The Soul of the Rose, 1908

Except I was wearing paint-covered sweatpants, glasses, and a bad ponytail. Bummer. It was still pretty awesome. The roses were as big as oranges and looked as heavy. Petal petticoats. Glorious with layers.

GOOD GRIEF THEY'RE PRETTY.

I take photos of our neighborhood's community garden (like allotments) every week or so, throughout the year. That's it up there, with the little wooden shed toward the back of the field. I like to watch the things in it grow and change as we walk by through the year. We walk by it almost every day. Behind it is the park and the baseball field. My meadow flowers in my own front parkway beds are still coming up. They actually look like a bunch of weeds right now — little weeds, sprouting willy-nilly. Hopefully it's not all weeds! I recognize some things. I know I see cosmos seedlings. That alone makes me very happy.

This week we're finishing up the new web site and the new kits and the new blog design and the new, I don't know, everything feels new. We've picked out a new (used) car. My dearest Greta is moving back to Ohio in a week [CRYING FIT]. I don't really have words to say how much we will miss her. She has been with us for two years and really is like part of our family. But I have a lovely and wonderful new assistant named Stacey who's been working with us here for the last month, and she is ready to receive the hand off. AND her favorite Pandora station is Wilco Radio so how lucky am I? It's gonna be good. We expect to launch the new web site and new softie kits and patterns next week, after Memorial Day, but I'll pop back in here before then and let you know exactly when!

The first things I'm going to make as soon as everything webby is finished are baby sunhats. Not that she'll keep them on her head, but I'll try. I've got the baby rash guard, the baby sunscreen, the baby water shoes, need the baby sunhat and a cute baby beach towel. I must be ready for the day the pool opens (late June!). I know you're not supposed to run on the deck, but I'm going to sprint to the water's edge. Look out.

Little Bird comments: 78

It's been a busy week — playing, people, parties, perfect weather, broken cars (again, after it was supposedly fixed — no comment; car shopping), pastries, parks, a birthday, birthfamily party, knitting, golden sunshine, rainy nights, more playing, the days rushing like stars across the sky in a fast-mo video, a beautiful, sparkling blur of all the things and places and people I love. Amelia travels her spaces with confidence and moxie, here, there, everywhere, full of light and delight, always with a stick in her hand, tongue out, always happy, always curious, forward, forward, naturally careful but without fear or hesitation, arms open to everyone. At the start and end of each busy day we lie in the big bed listening to the noises float through the open windows; it's there where I get to think in long, looping strings of images like garlands of photos, her sweet face in every one as my fingers thread through her hair and trace her golden eyebrows. She lies soft and quiet at my side, thinking her own baby thoughts. Little bird with ruffly, downy feathers tucked up close. Her softness, her sweetness, her sounds. In the distance dogs bark. Neighbors arrive home or leave. Breeze blows. Voices ebb and recede. We drift and dream. I can hardly wait for each new day. When it comes: Good morning, my dearest sweet lovely adorable little dearest sweetest darling. What will we do today? Everything, everything. Oh, everything's possible.

My gosh, it's just so good. This precious gift. This feeling of amazed wonder, and overwhelming gratefulness that never leaves.

Sugar Pie comments: 49

We've been going out so much (to these tulip fields on Wednesday, and yesterday it was a wilting 88 degrees, and tonight it's a block party, and tomorrow it's dinner at our friends') that I never did make the dinner I've been meaning to make (not that I know what it is), but I did, at least, make a pie yesterday. Rhubarb (and blackberry), from this recipe. Strange recipe, really, and it doesn't seem like it will work, but then it does. The rhubarb and blackberries could not have been more tart. And this thing is so crazy sugary — and eggy, which I love — that it actually balances. But it's not like the typical creamy custard you'd expect (or like the one in the sour cream apple pie, I guess is what I'm thinking of). It's more like . . . goo. It's strangely good, though, and it was good for breakfast, too. My pie dish is cast iron, a gift from my sister but I think it's this one, and honestly, I don't think I'll ever use another pie plate. Because it actually browns the bottom of the crust. And it's big and deep. Good pie, good dish. Good days.

I've had a lot of irons in the fire lately, and things are finally starting to come together. New logo, new branding and packaging stuff, new web site, new blog design, new animal patterns, new kits, new fabrics, new yarns, new work routines as I shift more and more production out of the house and down the street to Spooltown. Just a lot of new. New and nervewracking. I'm thrilled with all of it, but still, it's new. I'm still expecting that we'll launch all of this at the end of this month, but now it's suddenly this month. And then once it's all launched and out there in the world, my dream is to take the summer off and go to the river and the pool every day with my girl.

Something's missing from our back yard! Still getting used to it, but oh, what an amazing thing it is to sit on your own back porch in your nightgown with pie and watch the stars come out, stars I've never seen before from this place. I made wishes for my baby girl and my love and family and friends and animals and watched the sky go from blue to ultraviolet to night. I think I'll do it again tonight, too.

Spring and Moon comments: 64

Warm and cloudy, my favorite combination. Amelia's nose is running and she will no longer let me wipe it without twisting in frustration. We walk through the quiet, cloudy streets. It's so quiet. At home, our yard is under construction: We've finally taken the leap and hired a landscape architect to help us design and install perennial borders in front of the big windows (where we had the sewer party that basically destroyed all the shrubs that had been there a few years ago), the front porch (where the removal of the neighbors' eighteen-foot-tall laurel hedge changed the conditions from deep shade to blazing sun, and fried everything we had there), and the picket fence (which basically had nothing but peonies in front of it). The clematis stays, but almost everything else is moving or changing. I'm very excited. I tell you, once I get an idea and make that Pinterest board, consider it done (not really, but without the board I'd probably never get going, somehow). These are some of the last areas of this property that needed help and they were just beyond us. It's pretty exciting to see the guys out there creating actual beds, with edges, and properly making circles around trees, and planning for plants that will actually do well in their spaces. I'm hoping for something a little wild, a little bit prairie, a little bit meadow, a little bit woodland, and a little bit English. How's that for a directive?

Down in the veggie beds, which are on the parkway and not actually in the yard, I planted my wildflower seeds over the weekend. I took your good advice and made my own mixes and used a couple of packets, including one for a fairy meadow (yes, please!). I'm pretty haphazard these days. I feel lucky when I've fed everyone three meals and gotten a shower and four or five hours of sleep myself, so I did not belabor this project in the end. I mixed the seeds with some sand (you told me to do that, too, I think, so thank you!) and just shook that mixture all over the prepared beds. Amelia sat in her high chair and watched and played with a ponytail holder. I LOVE that she says "WOW!" about a hundred times a day, and it means both "flower" and "wow!" She sat out there with me saying, "Wow!" and we watched the world go by for a while. I sprinkled the beds with the hose (which she thought was hilarious) and now we are waiting five to ten days for something to happen. I can hardly wait.

Andy stayed up last night to watch the lunar eclipse and took these amazing photos! Aren't they cool?

Green Morning comments: 79

Amelia and I were planning to just go for our usual walk around the neighborhood, but the minute we stepped outside and felt the warm sun and heard the birds singing, I knew just where I wanted to go: Leach Botanical Garden. It was so quiet and peaceful you'd never guess it is literally just blocks from super busy streets and lots of traffic. I think we were the only people there besides the staff.  Everything was lacy green and so peaceful. All we could hear were birds and the gurgling water of Johnson Creek. It's such a beautiful little place.

This garden is former estate of John and Lilla Leach who were, among other things, a pharmacist and a botanist. Originally called Sleepy Hollow, the property was purchased by them in 1931 and donated to the city after their deaths. They lived in the manor house and had the little stone cottage built just across the creek (do you love their outdoor table [the moss-covered thing next to the cottage] and fireplace?) to use during the summer. When Amelia and I were there, the cottage was actually open and being swept out by a volunteer who was spring cleaning (they had literally just opened the bridge to it an hour before, they told me). She invited us in — a very special treat, as it is not often open. It was truly like being in Snow White's cottage — one little room, wooden paned windows looking out onto the green, the water just outside the door, a cobblestone path. I came out and said to the lady who was sweeping outside, "It's really is magical!" and she said, "Oh, I know!" She said her favorite thing to do was to spend a summer evening sitting in the stone circle around the fire. She said that there was mica in the fireplace that sparkles in the firelight. Her eyes were sparkling, too. It was so lovely there. I can only imagine it at sunset, or with an evening fire in the fireplace (unfortunately it closes to the public at 4 p.m.!). I love how the woods are reflected in the glass in the photo of the cottage window.

What a wonderful morning we had. Trillium blooming and ferns unfurling. Walking slower than slow with my girl in the dappled light. She kept pointing and saying "birdie" and "wow!" (which is her word for "flower"). We talked about everything as we wandered. It's not really stroller friendly or very handicapped accessible — most of the trails are quite hilly or very narrow with lots of tree roots and rocks. But the terrace is flat and open and it is a gorgeous spot to just sit quietly and watch. We bought beeswax candles and lavender soap in the gift shop. We didn't go in the manor house but I'd love to go next time. Sweetest little place. What a lovely gift John and Lilla created and left for us all.

Petal Flurry comments: 84

Oh how I love spring! I love the dull, dark days and the vibrant, inchworm greens. I love the petals fluttering in the wind and falling on top of kitties sitting in the hyacinths. I love the wet-black mud and the crusted sprouts asserting themselves through the muck. I love the drama of whipping rains alternating with golden sunset, and a hole in the sky that brings dinnertime rainbows. I love the windows open and then the windows closed and the heat back on. I love the translucent white of cherry blossoms and the translucent green of new hydrangea leaves. I love the fat lilac buds that haven't popped yet and the fat tulips waiting to open. I love the lacy canopy of ornamental pear trees that line the streets. I love sleeping in a very warm bed with a cold rain falling outside. I love snuggling with my girl in the early mornings when all is still dark and it is nothing but pillows and covers and soft rabbits and us. I love walking with my honey and a sleepy boo up and down the winding streets to get ice cream on a sunny afternoon. I love walking. I can hardly wait to get outside every day. It's the very best time of year.

I watched Little Women (the 1994 version) yesterday on cable while Amelia slept on my chest. The scenery and the March house in that movie are so beautiful, all those dove gray and mushroom-colored interiors brightened with flowers, candles, eyelets, aprons. She slept for an hour and a half and it was so nice just to sit and watch a movie. Part of a movie. The exterior of their house is such a great color — super dark brown, like sepia. I had the clicker in my hand and I kept pausing it on certain scenes just to take in all the details. That cool pergola thing made out of branches they have in their front yard? I love that!

Thank you ever ever ever so much for all of the wildflower ideas! Wow. So much amazing information there, and so many things I didn't know. Thank you thank you! I'm totally inspired. Rainy days are for reading about flowers and putting together a plan for planting. For some reason, the raised beds just feel so much less intimidating than any other gardening I've done. I'm really excited. I've been wanting to do this for a long time.

Andy and Amelia are at music class right now. Though I heard him say to her this morning, "But c'mon, let's just call it what it really is — band practice." Sweetest, sweetest loves of spring. Xoxo