fledge capable of flying, from Middle English flegge, from Old English -flycge; akin to Old High German flucki capable of flying,
Old English flEogan to fly -- more at FLY
intransitive verb, of a young bird : to acquire the feathers necessary for flight or independent activity

Friday, August 27, 2010

We interrupt your summer for this commercial message.

Just a quickie. Just getting the word out. Won't take long.

I have not been sewing. Wait, I take that back: I did stitch six seams last week during Crafty Mama Lisa's Wednesday sew-along. Woo hoo! Six whole seams (topstitched,
too!). Anyway, I've watched a lot of Glee reruns. And I have been translating. Translating, translating, translating. Translating lends itself well to simultaneously watching Glee reruns. Sort of a Zen activity. Unless the garment is a complete mystery to me, I can basically look at it and get my head immediately into its construction..."Stitch bodice left and right pieces to the bodice back fabric right sides together at the shoulder seams. Press the seam allowances toward the front and topstitch from the garment right side...Repeat for the corresponding lining pieces..." This goes there and that goes there before that goes there so that can happen here... And so on and so on and so forth... Yes, Zen, but dry as toast!

Time to get back to sewing. So that you can get back to sewing, I do now have some new favorite Farbenmix sewing patterns translated into Englis

So, my lovely retail partners, I have Fancy Frock WILLEMIENTJE and the Mini Mod Dress AMELIE ready to go! In English!

ZUCKA (skirt), ULJANA (skirt) and IZZY (about the cutest jacket I have seen in a loooong time) are coming up very shortly (mid September).

In other news, I've been asked to guest post on Whip
Up (love Whip Up, don't you?). Whip Up generously wrote a lovely review on our book and I never said thank you. Well, thank you, Whip Up gals! I appreciate every kind word out there. I think I'll prepare a freebook for that guest post. But is there anything you'd like to hear from me for this guest post? Any questions you'd have?


Yeah, I think a good freebook is a better idea, too.

I return you now to your regularly scheduled summer.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Sooo... Whaddup?

I'm in such a nesting mood, I keep checking my arms to see if I'm growing feather. After redoing Jack's room, it's only "fair" to see if Ebay and Craigslist don't have a few things for a new look for the Annatorium. All in the name of fairness.

Every room needs a statement piece. In the Jack Habitat, it is this chair. Or maybe the puffer fish.

For Anna's room, well, she doesn't really know exactly what statement she wants to make. Just less ORANGE. Much less orange, thank you very much. And "groovy". And "glamorous". And "not princess". So my head is heading Mid Century Florida, where my grandmother had a glamorous (in my opinion) condominium in Saint Petersburg. Think beach with a touch of The Kapok Tree Inn. My grandmother had money and my mother had great taste: When those two got together to redecorate, man, they would have done Dorothy Draper proud. I haven't the budget or the finesse to do what they did, but I'm priming wood nonetheless. Not sure how it will all come together, but have to start somewhere.

Part and parcel for particle board, it's time that the Ikea bed went before it collapses and the girl wakes up in a pile of sawdust. I picked up an "antique four-poster bed" on Craigslist. Antique it's not. And four-poster is more like canopy bed sans canopy. Do we hear the voice of buyer's remorse? Yeah, sure, but also the echo of "let's do whatever the heck we want with the bed-shaped mass of wood!" So, on with the primer today!

And then there's this for inspiration. The very best kind. More on that later

Have a great day,

Monday, August 16, 2010

A peek!



You likey?

Then me makey sewing pattern!

Tell me whatcha think!
And please give the girl some props for letting me put hydrangea on her head.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Postcards from today

Manhattan Beach.

Big surprise: Milo likes food.

Let's get this straight, once and for all: Milo, you are not our cat. No. You belong to these fine people, who pay the phone bill belonging to this number on your tag. Go back to them. This is my house. My yard. My kids. My rules: No cats. So, go along home, now. Go, go, go away! Shoo. Yes, you. Go...

As anyone who has ever tried to have a heart-to-heart--a tête à tête, a tête à chat, a chat with a chat, a chat chat, cat chat--with a cat (or with a rock, for that matter) knows, a cat really doesn't care about your worldview. It's always only all about "me, me, me". Which a cat will state, in English, very clearly: "MEEeeee". A dog, on the other hand, may not understand you exactly, but a dog will work really hard to figure out what makes its human happy. A cat, on the other hand, works really hard to have a human, any human, figure out what makes it happy.

"Do you think cats like shrimp?"

Kids, really: Do we really need to test this hypothesis? Really? Shrimp are nature's potato chips for carnivores. Think about it: What meat-eater doesn't enjoy a curly little stomotopod treat? Even the giant blue whales like shrimp, better than anything else. I'd bet, if you put a shrimp in front of a Saharan sand cat, a creature, which in the course of its evolution likely hasn't seen any sea creature since the Saharan oceans receded, that creature would have no problem eating a shrimp. Even God can't seem to keep us away from shrimp: When He was still speaking directly to us, He called the very useful shrimp and its shellfish cousin an abomination. And "abomination" was probably about right: Back before the days of water treatment plants, water treatment consisted primarily of these very filter feeders. Ergo, whatever ill the water bore, would thus become food borne illness. And yet, we have Red Lobster $11.99 Shrimp Festivals. Go figure.

Too late: Shrimp/cat hypothesis is tested. And yes, by the way, cats do like shrimp. And this Milo Cat likes shrimp, very much, thank you very much.

And I think this test actually sealed the deal for Milo Cat. While he may not be our cat, we appear to be Milo Cat's shrimp-providing people. That's all that matters.

But we are not cat people!

Look, I have nothing against the smirky, silky, snarky felines, exactly. I just like to keep a healthy distance between me and anything that makes my eyes swell up and my sinuses run like leaky taps and my lungs constrict in asthma: Just a personal quirk. My house. My kids. My rules: No cats.


I'm just not getting through to the petite puma. Not making any negotiating headway at all. Not as long as there is a possibility of more shrimp and a sunny/shady spot with comfy cushions to boot.

"Do cats like prosciutto?"

Do cats like $18-a-pound prosciutto? Uh-huh.

And since this cat is named Milo and since this whole post is about food and because this particular song seems to reflect Milo Cat's entire thought process, a little bit of another particular Milo and his similar thoughts on food. Just because.


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