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, July 27, 2012

Small but mighty, big but tastey

Did I tell you my girl is Los Angeles County Junior Lifeguard this summer? She breezed through the swim test with an excellent time. And she's a frontrunner in swimming and beach running. I'll admit (to you, not to her): I had pretty low expectations. I wasn't sure she'd qualify. But she's excelling. She's small, but mighty. Who knew? Maybe this is her thing.

The day before Junior Lifeguards starts: "Do I have to go? I hate Junior Guards. I don't want to go. You can't make me go!"

The first day after I pick her up from Junior Lifeguards:"I love JG's!! Our instructor is soooooo nice! I got fourth in swimming! And first for girls! I love Junior Guards!!"

(Uh-huh. Told you so.)

In addition to lots of buoy swims and beach runs and calisthenics, there is also the occasional cookie contest.  ("JG" is short for "Junior Guards"). Pwn'd biggest cookie category. Uh-huh!

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Because because because because because


Looks like a tornado hit my office. Which means I've been sewing. Or that a tornado hit. Considering what I came up with, it could have been either one.

Mein Office sieht aus, als wäre ein Wirbelsturm eingeschlagen. D. h. ich habe genäht. Oder daß ein Wirbelsturm tatsächlich eintraf. Angesichts was hinterblieb, kann es auch beides gewesen sein.



Cross my heart, I didn't start down the yellow brick road on purpose. My girl is growing up and I was thinking about a design that was fun and fresh, but not little girl. Vintage dresses with wasp waistlines  have been catching my eye, so that was the direction I wanted to head. To figure out the waistline, I thought I'd practice with a high-wasited suspender skirt. And I had this remnant of blue gingham. It wasn't until I was fitting the thing on my piggy-tailed girl that I'd recognized that I'd sewn an allusion to one of the most iconic looks of the Twentieth Century. Imposerus! (not-even-a-rhinocerus-imposerus).

Ganz ohne Lüge, bin ich nicht der Gelbenen Straße absichtlich spazieren gegangen. Mein Mädchen wird älter und ich dachte an Designs nach, die frisch und fun, jedoch nicht kleinmädchenhaft sind. Wespentaillen der 50er sind meine Herausfoderung...zum Üben ein Trägerrock...und wie wäre's mit'm karierten Stoffrest. Nicht bis zu dem Augenblick, als ich zur Probe den Rock meinem Zöpfchen tragenden Mädchen anzog, hatte ich erkannt, daß ich eins der ikonischsten Looks des 20sten Jahrhunderts angespielt hätte. Zauber.


Complete with Ruby Chucks.
Samt Rubinchucks.


At this point, well, I'd been taken by the twister, so I decided to make note of the journey along the hem..."Not in Kansas any more".

Then I embellished up a t-shirt with New York this and that, because the Big Apple is the Emerald City, in a way.

Tja. Zu diesem Zeitpunkt bin ich vom Wirbelsturm ohne Ausweg gesnappt. Daher den Hinweis am Zaum "Nicht mehr im Kansas..." 


MyMaki Liber-T glittery transfer.

Well, that isn't the only thing I sewed. I made something completely different. This shiny silver AMELIE tunic and silver denim shorts.

Also, ich habe auch was anderes genäht. Was ganz anderes. Dieses glitzernes AMELIE und silberne Jeansshorts.


See? Completely different. Nothing Wizard of Oz here...

Siehste? Ganz, ganz anders. Nichts Zauberer von Oz...

Oh, if I only had a brain...

Hätt ich nur ein bisschen Hirn...

FYI: Skirt original design. Tunic AMELIE Farbenmix. Shorts KATI from Farbenmix. Silver denim from Banberryplace. MyMaki Liber-T glitter transfer from Farbenmix.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Losing is for winners

Saturday was the "Hennesey's Junior Lifeguard Paddleboard Championships." A local pub raises money for a worthy cause while producing photographic fodder for its walls.

My kid is a strong paddleboarder. Really strong.

Or so I thought.

He knew better. He knew he wasn't the best out there. He knew he wasn't going to win. Or come in second. Or third. Or fourth. (Or...eighth...not even eighth? Ninth. He finished ninth.)

But he really wanted to do it.

But why? When you knew you weren't anywhere near a frontrunner? Why bother?

Oh. Right.

That's why.

Because it was really awesome. Losing was awesome. Winning probably was way awesomer, but losing? Great, too.

Somewhere around 12,000 athletes from 205 nations will converge in London in about 18 days for their chance at one of about 300 gold medals. That's about 2.5% chance of winning. These are the people, who have trained all their lives, who have spent life savings, for whom families sacrificed time and money, who, since they were children jumped higher, ran faster, threw further, shone a bit brighter than anybody else for miles and miles and miles around. These are the winners. All they have done all their lives is win. And they are coming to London to lose. Yes, lose. They have a 97.5% chance of losing. They know their competition and they know, that while they may be faster, stronger, more skilled than most everybody else--ever--they just aren't stronger or faster or more skilled than that guy. And that guy. And that one over there. And him, too. All that training and time and sacrifice and cost just to lose.


Oh. Right. Because it is awesome to lose at the Olympics.

Which brings me to a new motto for me: "Dare to suck". Athletes and artists and entrepreneurs, face it, you're going to lose sometimes. Probably a lot of the time. Maybe all the time. But you might just win. And losing at something you love is not really totally losing, right?

Thanks, son, for reminding me of that.


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