Blood determines lineage, but I have a working hypothesis that hearts determine families.

Ever been to Tijuana? "T.J."? Even if you haven't, I'll bet you think it's shorthand for anything-goes partying, a bit of lawlessness, cheap prescription medicine and pervasive hopelessness. What Tijuana really is, is a border town that is experiencing tremendous growth in population, as people relocate from rural areas in hopes of a better life. The search of a better life sometimes ends up rather bad. And often, it is the children that get the worst of the bad. Poverty often brings abuse, neglect and abandonment in its wake.

I won't make any assumptions about the Mexican foster care or child welfare systems, because I really don't know anything about them. However, I've seen a thing or two relating to the American foster care and child welfare systems, and, suffice it to say, that no matter a nation's wealth or relative position in the world, every nation often falls short in their obligations in protecting and caring for the youngest and most vulnerable among us. Child abuse, neglect and abandonment all belong to our collective human shame.

The hills are covered in ad hoc dwellings. The ingenuity of many makes it a shame to call them shanties. The people do the best they can with what they have and that is something to truly admire. 

"Find your honor in trustworthiness. Laugh and sing during difficult times." 

But there are people and there are places that are doing good by our children. Yesterday, I had the honor to visit one such place, a wonderful, happy place. Corazon de Vida, is, year by year, day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, giving child by child a fighting chance at a great future. About 60 children, ranging in age from infants to teens, are cared for, clothed, fed, educated and nurtured, day in and day out, at this home in Tijuana.

Corazon de Vida ("heart of life") is a U.S.-based 501(c)(3) non-profit charity dedicated to empowering children. This is from their Web site:

OUR MISSION

To raise contributions in the form of money, materials and volunteer work to support and empower the children of Baja.

OUR VISION

That every child in the world has someone committed to the possibility that their life hold the same excitement and opportunity as the most fortunate child on Earth.

OUR BELIEF

We believe that every child’s life is valued and holds the same potential, excitement and opportunity as any other life. It is up to us to work together to make sure our care transforms into each child’s hope for the future.

OUR GOAL

To End The Cycle of Poverty and Homelessness

"I don't know if I should be happy or sad," my son Jack says to me after our visit. 

Blood determines lineage. But what about hearts? I have a working hypothesis that says hearts determine families. Corazon de Vida is not an orphanage per se. It is a home. And a home is a place for families. Families are where children are loved, nurtured, cared for, given boundaries, responsibilities, brothers and sisters, a place of their own and a chance to grow and blossom into the greatest version of themselves. Some of these children may be reunited with their mothers as their circumstances improve. And some will be with Corazon de Vida until they are 18. Or older. Because family is forever.

Mexican public (free) schools go up to the ninth grade. After that, schooling costs tuition, as does a university education. Children of Corazon de Vida will be sponsored--given room and board, school uniforms, books and the rest of it--for as long as they are in school, past their 18th birthday if need be. "I want to make these kids become millionaires one day," remarked Corazon de Vida board member Nicholas Sandoval, "That way, they can come back and end the cycle." Right on, brother!

A volunteer donates belly tickles and hugs.

This home runs its own school, which also teaches children from outside Corazon de Vida.

A hand up (not out).

Teenagers at Corazon de Vida are given private rooms to share with one or two others. Each child has his own belongings and clothes, so that each child can develop his own sense of self.

"Every child’s life is valued and holds the same potential, excitement and opportunity as any other life."

Everything at Corazon de Vida Tijuana is super clean, organized, well-maintained and neat as a pin. The children are instructed in how to keep their toys and spaces neat and do their small part to make this home their home.

I think I can...I think I can!

Board Member Andrew travels from Los Angeles to Tijuana 2-3 a month times to volunteer and give some love.

A roof. A shoe. A gaggle of boys. And my son right smack in the middle of all this. Yep: looks about right.

It's only a foul if it's called! Final score: USA - 6, Mexico - 10. (Also, 6 Mexicans against my one gringo, but, in the end, the final score is all that counts, right?)

Here's something my surfer boy might have a better shot at.

Sweet, sweet baby girl.

To save on the grocery bill and teach the kids a thing or two about botany, the home has planted vegetable gardens.

A blessed home.

If you look in your own corazon and see that you may have even a small donation in your budget, please consider a gift to Corazon de Vida. It only costs about $60 for all the needs of a child for a month. Think about it: Could you clothe, feed, house and educate your kid on $60 a month? I've already discussed this with my daughter Anna: She has a birthday coming up and one of her "presents" will be a donation to Corazon de Vida. Her idea. (Did I ever mention how wonderful my Anna is? Well, consider it mentioned!) 

Lemonade!

When life hands you lemons, am I right?

I had an opportunity to visit the International Quilt Market in Pittsburgh (more on that later). For my flight back to LA, I had to change flights in Miami. And my flight into Miami was late. And that was the last connecting flight that evening.

After two hours of standing in the rebooking line (thank goodness I was standing between a good-humored sys admin from Montreal and an Aussie gal on her way to the Galapagos Islands: we almost got a flash mob started...anyway...), I got a hotel room and another flight early the next morning. Well, I thought to myself, instead of getting only about three hours of sleep and then spend five hours on a plane, if my day was going to be shot anyway, why not just take the last flight out of Miami and spend the day at South Beach? I know, poor me. I slept in late in a lovely Marriot bed (I like Marriot mattresses), watched an episode of Ancient Aliens (I don't have television in at home, just Hulu and Netflix, so I miss out of gems like Ancient Aliens, where, let's face it, anything that cannot be easily explained, for example, Leonardo da Vinci's brief hiatus from painting, can only logically be explained by the influence of extraterrestrials. Obviously). I had lovely blue meal ticket vouchers, which paid for a leisurely breakfast and then a whole day to myself. Just me, myself and Miami. South Beach, let's do this thing!

I shoot people!

The Left and Right Coasts are different as far as beach culture is concerned. Considering both coasts are all about the beach, how differently could we possibly dress? Very differently, turns out: SoCal = flip flops. SoBe = high heels. SoCal = suncreen. SoBe = eyeshadow. SoCal = floppy hats. SoBe = hair pieces. And so forth and so on. I mean, it takes a stylist to go to the beach here, seriously. 

Anyway, a great day away from the grind. I'll take those kinds of lemons any day.

Respect for what he may become

Okay...that was two days ago...

But we're still mothers, no? Everyday is Mother's Day for most of us, amiright?

There is a quote I was thinking of. I need to look it up real quick...hmmm...

"When I approach a child, he inspires in me two sentiments: tenderness for what he is, and respect for what he may become."

- Louis Pasteur

(If any one person can be credited with saving the greatest number of children's lives, I would suppose Pasteur would be number one.)

My kids are 12 and 15 now. When I read blogs of mothers with much younger children, or see a mom buckle a little one into a car seat or grab a curious monkey teetering precariously from a shopping cart or a mom humming quietly to the tiny one resting in the baby carrier on her chest, for me, it's like driving past my old high school: I was part of that, I think. I did the best I could. I graduated. I went on to what came next.

I am rather anxious about what comes next. College is around the corner for my son. He's a good kid. His grades are okay. Used to be, that these grades would be good grades. Or good enough. Not anymore. Not when 88% of UCLA freshmen has high school GPAs above 4.0. Sure, he's clever, has a lightning-fast intellect and his wits about him, and I am proud of him in every way. But will he soar? I know I subconsciously raised my eyebrows a decade ago at the moms who were paying for $100 private tennis lessons for their five-year-olds. Today, those raised eyebrows have wilted as I learn that those same kids are choosing among competing full-ride tennis scholarships. Was my best good enough? Apparently not.

Everything I read and see and know tells me that my kids will have to work harder and longer to achieve less. My son says he'd be happy if he could live as he does now: In a small, simple house near the beach, where he can bike or walk to wherever he needs to go. Dude, do you know what a tiny, crumbling 60-year old house near the beach will put you back? On the other hand, statistics tell me that my son will likely live in a small house near the beach: namely, this house, as he boomerangs back after facing dismal job prospects and crippling student loan debt.

Now, my parents were born during the Great Depression and my dad fought in World War II, so, really, I certainly have had a stroll down Easy Street. And these kids have never seen a day of truly hard work. I'm not afraid or entirely opposed to a few years of living lean and working harder than they ever imagined they would. Perseverance. If I could just gift my children one thing, it would be perseverance.

"I have found that the best way to give advice to your children is to find out what they want and advise them to do it."

- Harry S. Truman

I have no good idea what the next few years will hold. My anxiousness is making me forget to enjoy the moment. It will be over all too soon.

Hip Hopper DIY Backpack

(Search for songs with "bunny" in the title and this is about my favorite so far!)

So: Spring is springing! The wildflowers are just wild. Birds are tweeting (without hashtags). And the world feels alive! The season's big holidays are also upon us. Whether you celebrate Easter, Passover or are just a grateful witness to spring, this DIY backpack pattern is my gift to you. This basic backpack features rabbit ear shoulder straps and a funny fluffy bunny tail.

Follow this LINK to find instructions and pattern pieces.

Hopper has only a few pattern pieces, so this is pretty quick to sew.

And...if you like those bunny ear clips, that tutorial can be found HERE.

I am asking for a small donation for the download. $3.00. Most of which goes to PayPal and Swipe anyway, but all remaining proceeds from the sale of this pattern from studiotantrum.com will benefit Ocean Defenders Alliance. Ocean Defenders is an indefatigable band of volunteers, who clean the coastline of dangerous debris. I'd like to give you this pattern and I'd like you to pay a tiny bit forward. Okay-doke?

Please send me a link of your finished project, if you'd like to share!

Osterkörbchen? Körbchen? Du lieber Hase: Welches Jahrhundert haben wir inszwischen? Es ist wohl zwo-tausend-vierzehn, meine Damen, und vielleicht ist dies wohl das Jahr dem Osterkorb selber einen Korb zu geben. Ein flauschiger Rabbit-Rucksack sammelt genauso die Schokoeier ist aber dafür viel witziger!

Hopper ist ein Rucksack, den frau für das Kind, als Geschenk oder gar für sich selbst nähen kann. Der Rucksack besteht aus wenigen Teilen und ist somit schnell genäht.

Hier der LINK zur Photoanleitung und zum Schnittmuster von Hopper. Hopper wird auch demnächst bei farbenmix.de erhältlich. Alle Erlöse gehen zur günsten von Nahow.de. 

Sollten die Hasenöhrchenhaarspangen von Interesse sei, hier findet Ihr die Anleitung.

Ich wünsche Euch viel Freude beim nähen. Schick’ mir bitte einen Link, wenn Du Dein Hopper mit uns teilen möchtest!

Sometimes the book is better than the movie

Sometimes I just want to sew. The El Porto "journey-is-the-destination" bag is a great project to just get your sew on. It takes two, maybe three good sessions to get the thing all done. But sewing El Porto is not about the amount of work, necessarily. To me, sewing is kind of like reading a book: Sure, you can watch the movie and you've got the plot, the characters, the costumes, the set design, the whole shebang all done for you in an hour and 42 minutes. Awesome.

But sometimes, just sometimes, the book is better. I mean, the act of actually reading the book. Stealing away a few minutes to read here and there and, in-between stolen reading moments, the thinking and wondering want might come next. That's what sewing is like for me. Will it turn out how I imagine? Will this look good? What if I do this instead? Piece by piece a project like El Porto comes together with creative plot twists and turns of your choosing as you make it.

Summer is around the corner. This bag holds just about everything you'll need for a day at the beach or sightseeing in Rome.

This is a fun project to mix and match and use up scraps. I have a tiny bit of this crazy fabric salvaged from some old swim trunks.

If you've made an El Porto, I'd love to see it!

"Is e do mhac do mhac inniu, ach is i d'inion d'inion go deo."

"Your son is your son today, but your daughter is your daughter forever." 

-Traditional Irish saying

As such, for your daughter (or wee granddaughter...) there is still time to make a bonny Saint Patrick's day shamrock, now there!

First off, trace and cut four circles of woven fabric (quilting cotton) approximately 3" (8 cm) in diameter. I traced the inside of a standard roll of packing tape. That's about the right size.

Als erstes vier Kreise von einem Durchmesser von ca. 8 cm ausmalen und ausschneiden. Hier habe ich das innere von einer Packbandrolle als Schablone genommen. Das hat frau doch herumliegen, nicht?

Fold the circles in half. Stitch a running stitch along the curved edge of your first circle. Gather that running stitch, so that the half circle forms a leaf. Keep that first leaf on the thread and add the next half circle to the thread.

Die Kreise in Hälften falten. Die Halbkreise mit Laufstich steppen. Die Halbkreise nach einander am selben Garn steppen und einkräuseln.

Gather each folded circle on the thread. Tie the ends of the thread together.

Die Garnenden zusammenschnurren um einen Glücksklee zu formen.

There you have the basic shape of your shamrock (if you want to make clovers, well, you can stop here!).

With the needle and thread still attached, pierce up through the leaves and back down the middle. Pull the thread taunt to make the "dents" in the shamrock leaves.

Um den irischen Glücksklee zu formen, den Nadel mitten durch das Kleeblatt stechen, umdrehen und zurückstechen. Den Garn stram ziehen, so daß das die kleine Delle im Blatt formt.

To make white shamrock blossoms, cut five squares from white quilting cotton approximately the size of a postage stamp (1" or 2.5 cm). Fold the squares in half to form little right triangles. Gather these triangles on a single thread as above and tie to form a tiny flower.

Um die irische Glückskleeblume zu formen, bitte fünf kleine Rechteckchen weissen Stoff ca. 2,5x2,5 cm zuschneiden.

Diese Rechteckchen falten, um kleine Dreiecke zu formen. Diese Dreiecke wie oben beschrieben zu einer Blume formen.

Glue or stitch your shamrocks and blossoms to anything you like! Here, I've made a quick headband.

Deine Glückskleee (Ha! Deutsch ist lüstig: Ein Wort mit drei "e"...okay, zurück zum Unterricht...) wie bzw. wo erwünscht ansteppen bzw. ankleben.

That's it!

Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Das war's! Happy Saint Patrick's Day!

Slainte!

Love Love Love (and GIVEAWAY!)

Happy Valentine's Day!

I didn't get my tutorial for Valentine's Day done, so I opted for a superquick GIVEAWAY over HERE. Thank you, dear Jen, for getting that up and running so quickly. (Jen can do anything. She can even raise a son who gets a perfect 800 in math on the SAT and a 97% on the English part. Good on ya, young Camden! I, on the other hand, am also raising a son, and let alone produce stellar test results, I have yet to have the young man use a fork on a consistent basis).

So get on getting over there so I can get on giving away.





I (may or may not) know someone, who may or may not have initiated a little bit of random happiness, which she may or may not have entitled "Funism". It has a pretty good Instagram following. Funism may or may not include taking a bit of harmless chalk and writing a bit of love. It may (or may not) be taking a tiny mermaid and photographing her adventures in the world. Funism may (or may not) be wearing wax lips (life hack: Nothing fights polar vortex induced chapped lips better than wax lips). What Funism is supposed to be is fun. Love and fun, really. And so, a fan of Funism may or may not have encouraged a bit of Valentine love on the Hermosa Beach strand today and may or may not have invited anyone to a bit of chalk.

Chalk messages such as these also have detractors. Angry, angry detractors. I mean it. There is strong opinion among some that there is a municipal cost arising from happy chalk messages on the strand. Perhaps there are costs to clean the chalk, money that could go to other things in the town. And thus chalk should be banned from possession in the town, chalkers fined and so on. The chalk actually fades away on its own in about 72 hours and is completely gone in less than a week. That fact notwithstanding, I have been trying to understand this point of view, really understand, because this bit of Fun has caused division and disgruntlement. Making anybody upset is quite the opposite of the mission of Funism. The polar opposite. The polar vortex opposite. Of course, no good deed goes unpunished.



So much for a possible cost side. There is a possible benefit side, too, however. Specifically, there was a fail woman in a wheelchair, who made her way down to the Funism-In. Her speech was slow and quiet, her movements shaky, but deliberate. She made her way to the Hermosa strand to perhaps speak to the person, who always wrote the happy messages. She really looked forward to finding them, as they made her happy. Then, there was gal going through the physical agony of fibero-something-or-other, as well as the emotional pain of divorce. She made her way to the Funism-In, because the messages snapped things back into perspective: because life is good. The ups and the downs--that's all part of it. There was also a celebrity appearance: Horse N Horse. Horse N Horse travel the world and posts selfies of their horseselves. One Horse is, in fact, a professional model, and I would like to posit, that perhaps beauty and life are temporal, so the moment is what is important, living in the here and now, and that is why Horse N Horse were in the naaaay-borhood (catch that? "Naaaay-borhood"?). Those things, I would further posit, all fall on the benefit side of Funism. What do our municipalities spend to promote happiness? Just plain happiness? No matter your age, race, gender, physical ability, or income? Our municipality is going to construct a boat launch. I don't have a boat. So, how many people of all ages, any race, gender, physical ability, and income benefit from the costs of the boat launch?

Who doesn't need to be reminded every once in a while, that there is love, there is goodness, and that it doesn't have to be all that complicated.

Fortunately, the Funism-In-istas may or may not have received many, many, many more positive comments than negative ones. If you wish to participate, you may. Coming disguised for your protection is up to you.











Happy Valentine's Day! And I mean it!