one year, one candle, one chocolate cake, one crepe shop, one fun day!

Pepper, a year has gone by.  A year has flown by.  Baby girl, you’re one.  This is so hard to believe!  Happy first birthday, lovely daughter.  Your father and I continue to be delighted by your presence, surprised by your creativity, engrossed in your babble, blessed by your sometimes kisses and always giggles.  We just love you to pieces and pieces.

Here is a sample of some very sweet and very Juniper things you are currently doing:

• last night you walked across your room, from your bed to your bookshelf, backwards.
• you have a special voice, higher and quieter than normal, that you’ve reserved for Yoda Puppet when you have him babble and move.
• on the last week of October, you stopped crawling.  We’ve enjoyed the soft pitter-patter of your little feet ever since.
• you have eight lovely pearly whites, of which the bottom center two slant slightly inward on themselves.  Precious.
• we are surprised by all the words you recognize and remember!  You know the signs for “more,” “all done,” “milk,” “yes,” “no,” you can blow kisses and of course give dramatic hello and good-bye waves.  You know where your nose is, can find your ears, head, teeth, mouth, hands, feet and sometimes even your eyes.
• you have an affinity for belly buttons and love to honk our noses.
• when the mood strikes you just right, you blow raspberries on my stomach.  And won’t stop.
• your favorite toys include the harmonica, the kazoo, the pitch-pipe, the piano, the keyboard, and Papa’s guitar.  Also, you let me read and sing nursery rhymes to you, which makes me happy.
• and can you dance!
• “Yoda” (which you pronounce “Doda”) and “shoe” are tying for third place for words you  say.  Your first two were “Mama” (*sniff*) and “uh-huh.”
• you are such a grown-up eater.  You use your spoon most efficiently and have just in the past three days started drinking milk and water out of a small glass by yourself.  I knew you were ready for this when you drank the bath water out of a plastic play cup in the bath the other day.

here we go...

one last little sip.

cow's milk. yum.

a sweet girl with her Monet tray, tortilla plate, blue green glass & chippy chair.

• when you’re done with a meal, you ask for a rag to wipe your hands on (by yourself, of course), then proceed to scrub the table with it.
• when we’re outside, you somehow manage to hear and respond to each neighborhood dog you hear, even ones so far away that we hardly notice their bark.  The Clifford book taught you how to bark months ago, and now you apply the doggie sound to real life whenever you can, including barking in the pauses of the song “How much is that doggie in the window?”
• when you hear the words “breakfast, lunch, dinner, food or quieres comida,” you make a “munch-munch” noise with your mouth.
• the other day I was rocking you and started singing “Are you sleeping, Brother John?,” at which point you sat up, smiled brightly, and wiggled your pointer fingers.  You were recognizing the tune for “Where is Thumpkin?,” a song Grandma loves to sing with you.
• you have a special sound reserved for fire, which is kind of a soft, reverent “foosh-foosh,” and use it when you see a candle burning or when the wood stove is lit.
• your best friend is Little Panda, whom you love to squeeze tightly and pat.
• when you nurse, you’ll take frequent breaks to reach up and give my neck the dearest hugs.  I also get a pat on the shoulder with these squeezes, just like Little Panda does.

pretty pretty dress courtesy of christina c.

We think you’re pretty amazing, Juniper, and are happy to keep learning and growing right along with you.  Thank you for being you.  You are smart, silly, beautiful, kind, and good.  I’m such a proud mama; we love you, love you dearly.

a pumpkin amongst pumpkins.

Maybe I’ll start by thanking Ryan, my sweet and persistent husband, without whom we’d still be living without internet, three bumps on a log.  If I were in charge, I would have procrastinated and procrastinated and maybe returned to cyber space sometime in late 2014.  But my husband is more motivated than I in regards to technology and the like.  So, Ryan (and the friendly folks at AT&T), thank you.

In the middle of November, we moved into our dream house.  Built in 1928, our little home has hardwood floors throughout, glass doorknobs everywhere, a porch swing, etc., etc.; just thinking about it makes me want to cry.  Ryan and I have been working at making it a home (or, rather, unpacking countless boxes) in those few spare moments between life, parenting Juniper, and living more life.  Photos to come.

One very fun thing: when workers were in our attic adding insulation, they came across two boxes full of toys from the 1940s.  Oh my word, I’ve never seen such a collection of old toys in my life, some even in their original boxes.  It’s been great fun sorting through them and I’ll feature my favorites later, but it’s just so heartwarming to think that once-upon-a-time children were raised within these walls.  Children will be raised here again.

Knitting?  Close to nil.  Christmas?  All presents are wrapped!  What saved me this year was that no loved ones requested knitted gifts.  They learned their lessons last year when their woolen treasures arrived seven months late.  Anyway, Christmas is soon.  It’s lovely being local during the holidays; so nice to be close to family.  I’m looking forward to this first Christmas with my two favorite people in our own home.  And a wood stove was installed in the living room last week, so now we’ll be enjoying the holiday all together, in our new home, in front of a warm fire.  So good.

Lastly, for those of you who are wondering, the Flint Crepe Co. opened the weekend that we moved.  More crazy life!  Ryan is there, helping make it all happen, and loving it.  The coffee is excellent, the crepes are amazing.  Saginaw Street, downtown Flint.  I highly, highly recommend.

silly, maybe. pointy pixie hat, definitely.

I’ve knit several.  It’s just such a fun and rewarding pattern, such a fantastic hat to wear.  I have one (teal), baby J has one (soft blue), baby C has one (dark purple), and baby A also (tan).  Now my dear sweet sister-in-law has one, though it is pictured above modeled by yours truly.

Christine can face the winter looking like the happy little elfin creature she is.

Merry Late Christmas, sister!

Pattern: Pointy Ribbed Pixie Hat
Yarn: Knit Picks Palette, 100% wool, held triple
Needles: US size eight circular
Similar past project: baby’s pixie hat 

pitter-patter-skip-pitter-patter goes my heart.

can somebody tell me where she got those eyes?

Juniper, today we celebrate with you as you turn nine months and nine days old.

You’ve grown indescribably in just the three months we’ve been here in Michigan.  Your personality is becoming clearly sweet and silly, nutty and fun, mixed with a good amount of determination and spunk; you are more dynamic each day.

We love you so.  You fill the house with laughter and sunshine, just as a daughter should.  We constantly smile at the funny things you do.  Here are a few of the many examples:

• Just two days ago you picked up a kazoo, figured out how it works, and now play it for us zealously.
• Laurie the cat is your best friend, second to Grandma; you burst into peals of energetic love whenever you see him.  He’s not yet sure how he feels about you.
• The 360 spin: you sit on your bum and kick your heels in just such a way that you slowly spin 360 degrees, checking out all your options and everything around you (sometimes twice) before deciding which direction would be the very best to explore.
• Your current crawls: when you need to get somewhere fast, you speed around on your hands and toes.  Other times you crawl with two hands and one foot, while dragging the other knee behind you.  The pirate crawl, we call it.  Arrrg.
• When it’s bedtime or when you’re over tired, you bounce off the walls, rapidly crawling from one piece of furniture to another, pulling yourself up, cruising about, plopping down, ungracefully moving from here to there and back again.  When you’re in this mood, we call you our drunken sailor.  Inevitably you hit the wall, both literally and figuratively, not long after.
• We nod our heads “yes.”  You shake yours “no” in response.  Humm.  You answer a few yes/no question and nod when you hear “yes” or “yeah” and shake your little noggin at “no” “don’t” and “can’t.”  My favorite is when you nod your head “yes” as you crawl across the room.
• You have the wave hello/good-bye down beautifully.  You’ll wave “good-bye” to toys you’re done playing with and people you’re ready to leave.
• I’m trying to teach you the signs for tinkle and caca.  No progress yet, although you use the little potty like a champ for almost all of your leaving solids and just about half of your leaving liquids.  Elimination Communication is working well so far; it’s not voo-doo, though we do still call you our magic baby.
• Sometimes you’ll grace us with lovely little kisses, but only when least expected and never when we request one from you.
• We anxiously await the four tiny teeth that are swelling your upper gums.  You’ve had your two front bottom teeth for a few months now.  Oh, your toothy grins melt me away.
• You’ve mastered both climbing a flight of stairs and carefully descending one step.  All by yourself, but well supervised.  You’d climb the roof if we let you.  Right now you think the dishwasher is a jungle gym.
• You would live outside perpetually, too.  You love it outdoors, sometimes even whimper or cry when we come back inside.
• In fact, one of your favorite past-times is looking out the window; you’re just tall enough to see out if you stand on your tip-toes.
• Now that the weather has cooled, we’ve introduced to you the novelty of shoe-wearing.  You haven’t taken to this very well yet.  You’d rather eat them than wear them.  And you would be happy, oh so happy, eating leaves, sand, rocks and flowers all day long.  You’re not so keen on apple sauce and mashed sweet potato, however.  Tomato basil soup?  Getting closer!
• Cuddly to the max: you when you are wearing pajamas.
• You live for the moment Grandma and Grandpa come home from work, a moment they look forward to, too.  You attach yourself to Oma and Opa whenever you get to see them, and they love you right back.  Juniper, you bring joy to those who love you and smiles to people who don’t generally like babies.

I certainly generally like babies, especially sweet little you.

In less than three months, you’ll be a year.  Oh dear.

enjoying morning, baby and tea by the water

At the beginning of September, Ryan, Juniper and I spent a few nights in the middle of Michigan, next to Lake Lancer at a campground called Sugar Springs.  Oh, September in Michigan may likely be the most beautiful of months.  Camping in Michigan may likely be the most beautiful of activities, too, in my mind.  Either way, I love being a little family, packing up the station wagon and setting forth for humble adventures.  Losing ourselves to lake and sky, yarn, books and naps.

Every morning we walked to the waterside and had tea and muffins on the dock.  Every night we went back to catch the sunset before collapsing into bed.  The weather was perfect, warm days and cool evenings, and the mosquitoes left us alone.  Except for a few hard teething moments, we had a perfect little vacation.

Thanks, Uncle Todd and Aunt Lindy, for loaning us your adorable camper for the week.  Thanks, Michigan, for harboring lovely white birches, tranquil waters and all those breathtaking sunsets.

stealing kisses in the grass.

our baby juniper girl.

talking about how amazing it is to swing!

baby contemplating water & grass while i knit a row.

and white birches absolutely everywhere.

juniper at sunset with papa, my two peas in a pod.

Ryan and I are still slowly adjusting to being permanent Michigan residents (our Virginia license plate *sniff* is gone from old Rudy).  We’ve made an offer on what could very likely be our someday dream home, but it’s a short sale, so we’re waiting for it to go through.  Waiting with bated breath and hopeful hearts.  Practicing patience.  We’ve found a church home, made some new friends, and are thrilled by the idea of living close to downtown.  I’m trying not to wish time away; life out on this dusty dirt road is lovely, too, after all.  And I know the sunshine is fleeting and never guaranteed.  It will be cold again before we know it.  Isn’t it always is that way around here?

I may have mentioned that Juniper has started to play just independently enough so I can knit uninterrupted for maybe ten minutes at a time.  My current project: a short-sleeved, flax-colored, cabled wool cardigan and I can’t even remember the last time I knit something for myself.  How very fun and rewarding indeed!  I’ll post pictures and details eventually; promise.

And summer reading continues.  I hold baby while she naps and will do so for as long as I possibly can, because someday she’ll be grown up and maybe not want to be held.  She’ll be too old for naps and too old to cuddle and besides all this, I’ll be uncool.  I know how it goes.  Anyway, while Juniper nurses and naps, naps and nurses, I sit surrounded by pillows, an occasional black tea, and some really good books.  Here’s what I’ve devoured this summer:

All Over but the Shoutin’ – Rick Bragg
The Shipping News – E. Annie Proulx
Her Fearful Symmetry – Audrey Niffenegger
Olive Kitteridge – Elizabeth Strout
Sunshine – Robin McKinley
My Sister’s Keeper – Jodi Picoult
A Hole in Our Gospel – Richard Stearns
The Oxford Murders - Guillermo Martínez
Girlfriend in a Coma – Douglas Coupland
Simplify Your Life – Elaine St. James
A Farewell to Arms – Ernest Hemingway

and am currently reading the first book in the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series – Alexander McCall Smith – and Sue Miller’s amazing-so-far While I was Gone.  Plus I’d really like to crack open some good ones on upholstering but don’t really know where to start on that subject.  Whew!  If Pizza Hut did Book It for grown ups, I’d have so many free pizzas.

Of these, I highly, highly recommend A Hole in Our Gospel and The Shipping News.
I’ll conclude with some pictures, specifically requested by my father-in-law.  Here you are, Tim!

our blue-eyed babe

almost always has something to say.

Peter Rabbit has become part of our bedtime routine.

toys at twilight. baby loving a length of purple yarn.

a pair of striped tipless man gloves

I have a dear older brother who spends hours and hours in a cold drafty library in Indiana.  He doesn’t just wander absently, meandering up and down isles of rarely-used books.  No, he actually studies.  Notre Dame gave him his own little tiny office where he does this important scholarly work.  Also, in wintertime, the library is cold.  My brother gets cold.  Stephen needed something to keep his hands warm while typing and writing and flipping through pages of dusty books.  So I knitted him a pair of library gloves.

Alyssa gave me the tweed.  I love tweed.  It’s Rowan, mostly dark green, with specks of almost every other color.  I striped the Rowan with Knit Pick’s Merlot Heather held double.  Three rounds of one color, three of another.  All 100% wool.  I combined my favorite classic mitten kitting pattern with Allison Isaacs and Sara Lucas’s tipless glove pattern (found in Holiday Knits) for this custom  perfect-for-Stephen-and-his-nerdy-needs pair o’ gloves.  How?  With US size 4 dpn and a little twist of the imagination, of course.  I think I cast on in early March and finished in late July.  My goodness, what a slow knitter I’ve become!  This was Stephen’s Christmas gift.  Christmas of 2010, I’m ashamed to say.  Now they are done and finally, he has them.  Just in time for the colors outside to change to a more autumnal spectrum.

for brother,

to keep this paws warm.

warm hands, warm heart, right?

best friends forever

playing what game, I don't know.

she really loves old spoons, which happen to double as magic wands. seriously.

For those who are wondering what’s new in the world of Juniper besides making a true and fast friend in Reggie the dog, you must know that she’s cut her two first teeth.  And she started crawling, really crawling, this past Monday.  She’s everywhere!  And now she pulls herself up to all available furniture, empties bookshelves of their books, and tries just so hard to climb stairs.  Ryan and I are certainly on our toes.  She’s so very close to waving “good-bye;” Grandma is teaching her.  I caught her laughing in her sleep last night.  How many times will she break our hearts with her adorable, silly self?  She’s got personality spilling over, everywhere, onto everything, and making all innocent bystanders fall in love.  What a girl.

So it’s been on my to-do list to fix the hole in Adam’s bentwood rocker.  Unfortunately, I don’t know how to cane.  Nor do I really want to learn at this time.  I should mention that somewhere along the line, Adam gave us the rocker to keep forever.  Thank you, Adam!  But back to my conundrum: how to fix the chair without recreating the original caning.  I thought maybe I’d turn the seat into something solid, cushioned and covered, if I found the right fabric.  When I saw Waverly’s upholstery fabric “Solar Flair” on super-sale at Jo-Ann’s, I knew it was the one and could then visualize our redeemed rocker.  So another redo project began.

And here’s how we did it.  First Dad and I took the seat off the rocker.  I ripped out all the caning and touched up the wood on the rocker and the seat frame with a dark brown permanent marker.  Once this was totally dry, I treated the wood and remaining caning with lemon oil, cleaning, hydrating and polishing all at once.

bentwood rocker minus a functional seat

Dad cut a piece of wood to fit, routered the edges, and cut additional corner pieces for sturdy assembly.  I bought half a yard of 1 1/2″ foam from Jo-Ann’s (with a 50% off coupon, of course) and cut it the same size as the new seat.

all the pieces before assembly

I sat at Grandma’s sewing machine (mine is lost somewhere in the chaos we call storage) and created the piping out of the new fabric and about a yard of soft, skinny rope.

Waverly's "Solar Flair" and piping

Together Dad and I stretched the fabric over the foam and seat and stapled, stapled, stapled.  We put the piping around the edge and attached it with more staples.  Then, using his drill, we secured the upholstered part to the original seat frame, put the whole mess back on the rocker, and – presto – a brand new rocking chair.

underside of rocker seat

corner detail

newly upholstered seat

another view

and it's on the rocker!

end of story: we rock once again.

something green from papa's garden

looks to be just so delicious

yummy pea. a perfect teething toy.

The first night we were here, I dreamed of my childhood cat.  Catherine’s spirit came and haunted all the closets of the house.  She purred and purred but we never could find her.  I think she was awakened by Laurie’s cantankerous presence.  My adulthood cat, making himself right at home; gracelessly pushing dusty kitten ghosts out of the way with his scratchy, furry cat elbows.

blissed out, i'm sure

We cook dinner for Mom and Dad.  We’re living here until we find our someday dream house.  Mom comes home from work, scoops up Juniper as Ryan and I finish putting dinner on the table.  After dinner, she entertains baby while the rest of us clean up.  Then it’s time to sit and visit with parents, grandparents, aunts, cousins and uncles on a cozy porch or deck of our choosing.  Watching the hummers, the orioles, the leaves all participating in a fluttery theatrical.  I know in my heart of hearts that there is nothing like summer in Swartz Creek, nothing like being home.  Strong walls, people loving deeply.

I miss my Harrisonburg people, though.  Friendships established and strengthened over three years, my girlfriends and peers.  These people love deeply, as well.  I miss how the stone steps on the front stoop drank in sunshine all day then slowly released warmth late into the evening.  My convenient clothesline and pulley system off the back deck.  Seeing thirty people I know in just one ten-minute visit to the Farmer’s Market.  A drop-of-the-hat clothing swap party or knitting circle.  How anyone stopped by the house, anytime, almost every day.  Pam singing to Juniper in the morning a song about little birds.  I miss the mountains.

The week of the move, Juniper started clapping.  Now she’s pulling herself up on select furniture, wanting so badly to climb.  She’s putting one foot in front of the other while we hold her pudgy little hands and walk, walk, walk.  Her new sound is “gha.”  Her current favorite toy is the volume knob on Ryan’s keyboard.  She is a magic baby, we say almost every day.

giving the cheesiest grin ever

clapping with joy

then pounding with gusto

Ryan made me two lovely beds for my very first vegetable garden, in Mom and Dad’s backyard.  I read Animal, Vegetable, Miracle this spring and am aspiring to be Barbara Kingsolver in almost every way.  First step: plant, water, weed and love a real vegetable garden.  I planted five varieties of tomatoes, pumpkins, eggplants, marigolds, basil, chamomile, jalapeno pepper, lemon verbena, and cilantro.  Maybe it’s a bit random of a collection, but that’s what was on sale at Rich’s Food Mart on Linden road.  My little garden is growing; we harvested our first three cherry tomatoes yesterday and ate them with basil leaves and smiles last night.

garden we planted together

I’ll close with a snippet from my sister-in-law’s blog that I think is quite fitting for these Michigan (and Illinois) days: “summertime means a whole lotta time outdoors, garnering sunburns and mosquitos bites, and a lot less time indoors, hunched over the computer.  This is how life is meant to be.”  Amen, my sister-friend.  The [long Michigan summer] days are just packed [with baby-playing, gardening, napping, family and friend-visiting, and day-dreaming up possible lovely interiors of my someday [soon] dream house].

juniper, six months old

My Juna-Pepper, you have been with us, outside of the womb, for over half a year.  What an amazing half-year it has been, full of wonder, full of learning, full of funny little moments to treasure forever.  You’ve taught us patience, unconditional love and just how deep life can be.  You’ve brought us so much joy; what absolutely lucky parents we are.  It’s more than luck, I’m sure.

Your happiness, energy and vivacity is contagious.  Ask anyone who knows you right now.  They’ll say the same thing: you are such a smiley and talkative baby.  What a charmer, they’ll say.

We marvel at you every day.  And every day you change, in subtle and not-so-subtle ways.

…

Here are some of the sweet things you currently do:

You dive for fallen toys without considering consequences.  We’re there, though, to make sure you don’t fall on your head, over and over.

For very exceptional moments, you’ve invented a cheesy, ultra-smile.  You squint up your eyes, wrinkle your little nose, lean in, and grace us with a huge grin.

You discard toys to the left of your left leg when you’re done playing with them.

You like to put your thumb on things then pivot your tiny hand.  It’s like you’re giving everything you touch one little moose antler.

Juniper, you have yet to meet a stranger.

You can’t nurse when your father’s in the room; his presence is just too distracting.

Your current sound is “blaah-blaah-blaah” mixed with some juicy raspberries and just a few shrill shrieks.  You are also working on “mmaah-mmaah-mmaah” which is delightful to me.

You sleep so soundly at night and nap during the day like a champ, usually.

Anything can be a toy.  Your current favorites: a large teaspoon and the metal rings from canning jars.  You also love things that make noise (rattles, bells, blocks beaten together) and think books are for eating.

You are playing independently, more and more.  You’re sitting up on your own.  You know where you want to go and just can’t quite get there yet.  You’ll be doing the worm scoot any day now.  Sometimes I feel like you’re more of a toddler than a baby.

When you’re not so happy, we take you outside.  The breeze, flowers and trees seem to instantly calm you.  You like to watch the cat prowl, too.

You are glad to indulge me when I want to cuddle (which is all the time, really) and give me kisses in the form of raspberries on my chin and cheeks. You hold on to the hair at the nape of my neck and will even rest your honey-colored head on my shoulder, at least for a few seconds.

We call you Slimer.  It’s because of the drool.

Last week we dedicated you to the Creator during a small church service by the river, near Rawley Springs.  Those who love you sang “The Tree Song” then blessed and anointed you with cold water from the river.  You silently watched us sing, gathered around.  We watched you take it all in, our own little tree-girl.

dedication in the water

"becoming what the Lord of trees has meant me to be... a strong young tree"

fresh, delicious bread

Just thought it was too pretty not to share.  I’m looking forward to baking bread for our new household.  In nine days Ryan, Juniper and I move into my parent’s place in Michigan until we find and fix up a home of our own.  My grandparents live with my parents, too.  There will be plenty of loved ones around to enjoy fresh bread.  Bread of life.

cork board of wine corks

A funky and functional cork board made from a unique variety of custom cut and meticulously arranged wine corks, framed in a 16 inch square wood frame with black matte finish. This cork board is ideal for kitchens, planning centers, home offices and craft rooms. Includes hardware for attaching to wall.  Cost: $92 + $2 shipping.

If you’re interested, please visit my Etsy Store to make the purchase.  This cork board of wine corks is similar to my own kitchen cork board, which you can read about here.

wood frame, black matte finish

detail of wine corks

Quirky thumb tacks are not included, but I encourage you to find some!  Here are ideas: buttons, fabric pins, or tree branches.

old & rusty (& lovely) singer

Ryan brought home this antique sewing machine (maybe from the 1920s?) one cold, rainy day in early spring.  He found it in a dumpster.  Truly.  My husband knows I gravitate toward old, dark, rusty antiques.  This darling machine normally sits high on a bookshelf, purely for looks.  With its art deco-meets-art nouveau details, it adds a bit of vintage, crafty charm.  Now the machine is patiently waiting in a queue to be packed up, along with everything else.

old quilts & a new(ish) baby

I found these quilts at two different thrift stores, both for $5.  The lavender one is huge and could cover a queen-sized bed.  We like it for picnicking and playing out on the grass.  We like the whimsical stars of dark purple and various petal patterns.  The second one is not quite so large, but bigger than a baby quilt.  I know, it’s pink.  But I couldn’t resist, it’s so pretty and so well-made.  If it’s any consolation, there are little dinosaurs and sheep all over the backing.  And someone carefully quilted around every individual blue leaf on the edging.  If you didn’t already know, handmade quilts hold a soft spot in my heart.  Especially those I can snag for $5 or less.

+/- 120 knitting patterns for $1

Vogue Knitting International magazines, twenty-five cents each.  Need I say more?

most organized spices of my life

Last time I was home, my Marmie showed me her newly organized spice cupboard, complete with two tiered spice racks.  I was seriously envious.  An unorganized spice cupboard is a big personal pet peeve and here my mom’s looked so much better than mine!  So when I found a similar tiered spice rack at the thrift store (for $1), I almost yelped in excitement.  Now my spice cupboard is just *tear* so perfect.

little yellow ware bowl

In my recent reading of kitchen design (specifically, how to create a warm and cozy country/vintage/folksy kitchen), I discovered yellow ware and instantly feel in love.  Made in Great Britain, France, Canada and the US from the 1850s to the 1930s, yellow ware is sturdy, useful and oh so darn charming.  Grandma Blakemore always tells me to add a bit of yellow in every room.  Yes, please.  So when I found these two bowls at the thrift store (one for $5 and one for $3), I was thrilled.  It’s true that at some point, both bowls had been smashed to smithereens then meticulously glued back together.  But doesn’t that just add to the charm?  I have no idea who first made them and what their value would be if they were in mint condition but I really don’t care.

bigger yellow ware bowl

Right now I’m using one to pot a kangaroo foot plant a dear friend gave us and the other sits on our dresser and houses keys, ticket stubs, odd buttons and things.  These old chippy bowls are now dear to me, mostly because they are adorable in a dusty-vintage-kitchen sort of way, but also because I can get good use out of them and not worry one bit about owning something valuable.  And that’s the way I like it.

good summer reading equals one wonderful summer

Lastly, and perhaps most exciting (depending on your taste), I’ve acquired a nice collection of summer reading.  Ranging from eighty cents to a dollar fifty, these used books are better than library books because I don’t ever have to return them.  No late fees!  And I can give these books to friends when I’m done reading them and not worry about ever getting them back.  I’m finding that breastfeeding and reading go very well together (as Emily G. predicted) and have already finished and passed along those not pictured: Atonement (Ian McEwan), The Lace Reader (Brunonia Barry), Prodigal Summer (Barbara Kingsolver), and If Only it were True (Marc Levy).  Happy summer reading, my friends.

Also, happy summer thrifting!

A cup of tea sounded like a good idea until I opened the cupboard (the one housing various teas, blue agave nectar and honey) to find hundreds of tiny black ants having a happy heyday all over everything in the cupboard.  Ew.  So gross.  I tried to fight off the little buggers single-handedly, but lost heart and morale when they started crawling all over each under the sweep of my not-so-deadly paper towel.

Pam stepped in and proceeded to quickly and effectively kill them off and clean the cupboard by spraying Green Works all-purpose cleaner on every last one of them.  I wouldn’t have even thought to kill them, er, drown them actually, with our earth-friendly cleaner.  This is why Pam is my hero.

We both agreed that insects who crawl over each other might be the epitome of grossness and creepiness and then decided that this is strictly weird alien behavior.  Not welcome in our human-dwelling-only house.  We hope that’s the last of the ants, but are keeping the Green Works nearby.

So, thank you, Pam.  For saving me when I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of ants in our kitchen.  Thank you for bringing peace back to my cup of morning tea.  Thank you, also, for every single spider you’ve killed for me this past year.  You are gracious and kind and we are certainly going to miss you for many, many more reasons than your mad bug-killing skills.

Note to self and other selves like me: next year, try to remember to clean out the tea cupboard before it starts getting really hot outside, before the ants get curious and … out of control.

ryan's graduation cake (chocolate + peanut butter = true love)

In our house I like to celebrate major holidays, birthdays and other such events by baking.  I know it might be slightly old-fashioned, but putting hours of time (and love!) into a made-from-scratch cake just feels like the right way to remember a special day.  On Ryan’s birthday I bake a Bittersweet Chocolate Cloud Cake that knocks socks off.  We look forward to this once-a-year cake every time November 13 rolls around.  Establishing meaningful baking traditions is important to me as I raise and feed my little family.

Last weekend, Ryan graduated from the Center for Justice and Peacebuilding with his Masters in Conflict Transformation.  I’m quite proud of him.  And for this exciting event, I baked the Smitten Kitchen’s Chocolate Peanut Butter Cake.  Three layers of moist chocolate cake, fluffy peanut butter frosting in between and encasing the layers, topped with a chocolate peanut butter glaze: oh my word.

It was amazing.  So very rich.  Such a perfect balance of peanut butter and chocolate.   We celebrated his graduation from Thursday until the following Tuesday; like a good soup, the cake tasted better and better with each passing day.  We shared it with Dora and Derrick.  We shared it with Scott and Cheryl.  We shared it with Pam.  And Jolie.  And our parents, Tim and Debbie.  We didn’t share it with Juniper and I think this made her a little sad.

So I recommend this cake, wholeheartedly, if you want to celebrate someone special in a loving and chocolaty way.  Be warned: it’s very rich, making the serving sizes small; be sure to invite lots of friends to celebrate with!

juniper in a yellow bib

and a flower/dot bib

and a green bib with a very hungry caterpillar

My sister-in-law sews.  She even has an Etsy shop where she sells her wares.  Guess what?  She’s sewn most of Juniper’s bibs!  Her fabric choices are beautiful, her handiwork is stellar.  And her bibs are absorbent (which is something very important for a bib to be, if it can).  Juniper and I just think Christine’s Little Miss Fat Bottom bibs are great.  My sister-in-law creates more than bibs, though, friends.  She makes burp cloths and embellished onesies, too.  I’ve heard rumors that she’ll be sewing and selling skirts and am very much looking forward to that day (when Juniper isn’t naked, in pajamas or overalls, she’s in skirts).  But it’s the bibs we adore, because as you may recall, our Juniper-girl drools like a leaky faucet.  Thank you Aunt Teen-Teen!  You’re the very best and most generous bib-sewer ever.

grouch face in a pink bib

then a brown dotty bib

followed by a pinwheel bib

ending sweetly in a pink/red bib

juniper & her knitted duck-like footwear

Out in the big world there exists so many baby bootie knitting patterns; what is a knitter to do?  What is a baby to do?  I certainly haven’t knitted each pattern, nor has Juniper tested out each bootie design (she’s only four months old, you know), but we do have experience enough, I think, to form an opinion.

Our most favorite baby booties ever were actually the first project I attempted to knit, way back in 2008.  The first project in First Knits (the book by which I learned to knit) are these lovely duck-feet booties.  Alternatively, one could call them baby clogs.  Either way, they are stinking cute and very easy to knit.  Basically two different sized squares and one I-cord are strategically sewn together to make one infant shoe.  And the best part?  They stay on baby’s feet, even on one very kicky baby’s feet.

Juniper is a kicky baby.  So much so that her nicknames is “Kicky McGee.”  She has also been called “Shrieky McGeeky,” but that’s a different nickname with a different, rather louder, story.

a favorite pink bootie and a plump baby leg

baby duck feet, see? covering ten stinking sweet tootsies.

For Juniper’s pair of pink booties (those pictured) I used Phildar’s Partner 6, which looks and feels like cotton but is actually 50% polyamid, 25% wool and 25% acrylic (making it very machine washable; a handy trait for a baby yarn).  I knitted the body of the booties using US size six needles and finished by knitting the I-cord on US size six dnps.

Besides knitting with a higher weight yarn and larger needles than the pattern originally called for, my alternations are as follows:

• the tie (a 3 st I-cord) is knitted about twice as long as specified, so it can be half-bow tied.
• the tie is sewn on to the heel of the bootie off-center, such that said half-bow can be tied at the ankle instead of the front of the foot.
• the body of the foot (the larger square) is knitted in k1 p1 ribbing, allowing for stretch as the wearer’s feet grow and for a perfect fit every time.
• the toe of the foot (the smaller square) is knitted in a seed stitch pattern because I really like ultra textured look of the seed stitch.

These alterations make for a more functional bootie that can be worn by the wee little person for a longer period of time.  Form!  Function!  Duck-foot cuteness!  My alterations came with practice, real experience and feedback from actual mothers.  You see, I’ve knitted this bootie many times over:

• My someday baby (back in 2008), cream
• Risha’s Hannah, purple/brown
• Marianna’s Oliver, purple/brown with vintage buttons
• Emily’s Braeden, green
• Christine’s baby C, purple/brown
• My own baby Juniper, charcoal gray
• Jill’s Christian, tan
• My own baby Juniper with a bigger foot, pink

I’m the mother that usually does not dress her baby girl in pink.  My Grandma said, before she met Juniper, that I probably have her in green and brown perpetually.  She was right.  I even buy blue teething toys just to break gender stereotypes.  This really drives strangers crazy.  Evidentially I have a responsibility as a new mother to make it obvious to the general public whether this baby is a girl baby or a boy baby.  Even after knitting her a pair of pink booties, you’d be surprised how people still ask if she’s a little boy.  Only very observant strangers pick up on this subtle nod to Juniper’s girlishness.

jack hartley blakemore, early 1950s

On April 17, 1931, Edith Edna Blakemore, wife of Wolford Pickens Blakemore, gave birth to her second born, a second son, and named him Jack Hartley Blakemore.  This boy Jack grew up slyly darting in and out of many major scrapes and adventures and is now the Grandpa Blakemore that so many of us love, respect and admire.  Especially me.

…

Grandpa, there are certain things you do that no one else does quite the same; these are some things that I love about you.  Do you know that you pull out the atlas at a drop of the hat?  You like to see where places are in relation to other places, find the best route to and from, and decide if these places are anywhere near where you’ve been before.  I love that you count everything, from boxcars on trains, to people at family gatherings, to wild turkeys in the front yard.  When I was little, you’d count and recount my ribs then miscount my toes, making me screech with laughter and convincing me that I indeed had eleven toes instead of the normal ten.  You always know the weather, the forecast, and if it was raining or shinning this time last year.  When Grandma lets you pick out my birthday card, it’s always the one covered in glitter, berries, pixies and fairies because, after all, I’m still your little girl.  I’ve noticed these things about you because I’ve been watching.

I feel blessed and privileged to have shared so many moments with you, so many treasured memories.  I remember the day, maybe fourteen years ago, when we stole orange day lilies from a ditch on Morrish road and planted them in our backyard.  We’ve spent countless late summer afternoons blueberry picking.  I know you like to pick with me because I pick so cleanly and then, when we combine our bounty at the end of the day, your share has less stems and leaves than it otherwise would have had.  Remember when you taught me to bake an apple pie?  You thought it was strange that I wanted to decorate the pie crust with our initials.  I treasure all the times we’ve sat on the front and back porch swings during rainstorms, talking and watching the downpour.  Grandpa, you were the only one with time and patience enough to teach me how to drive.  I consider myself a very lucky granddaughter to have had you in such close proximity.  In fact, every day for twelve years I’ve been carrying the good luck charm you made for me and I’ll continue to carry it with me for the rest of forever.

Places I’ve never visited and people I never knew are familiar, because, during all this rainstorm watching, atlas studying and berry picking, I was listening to your stories.  I know how you got the smooth, silver-dollar-sized scar on your arm where hair doesn’t grow.  I know what happened to the bridge when you and your brother tried to use dynamite to create a deeper swimming hole.  I know what you were thinking when you and Moe stood on a street in Dallas and watched pretty girls pour out of the Southwestern Bell Phone Company building during a shift change.  I know why you dumped a full glass of milk on Grandma’s head when Uncle Steve was two years old.  I was listening.  I’ve always wanted to listen to your stories, your advice, and your wisdom.

When Ryan asked dad for permission to marry me, he also asked you for your personal blessing because he knew just how very special you are to me.  I love you very much.  Happy 80^th Birthday, Grandpa!

I started in the sewing room, then realized it needed major organizing and purging before packing.  While organizing, I found about a dozen sewing projects that beg to be finished before the move.  More cloth diapers to make, socks to darn and tops to resize.  Socks to block and press and felted booties to embellish.  The list goes on.

There is hope that packing endeavors won’t be like this in every other room.  I can’t imagine stopping to read books I haven’t finished before packing the bookshelf or deciding to drop everything and go to the beach when boxing up the beach towels.

While going through sewing room misscellaneousness, I came across my grandmother Case’s thimble.  This is probably the prettiest thimble I’ve ever seen, with tiny beading all around the edge and a dull shine from age and over-work.  It seems it had shaped itself to my grandma’s finger over time and I was delighted to discover that, even in it’s imperfect form, it fit my own finger exactly.  So now the thimble’s new home is in my little jewelry/trinket box alongside some other small treasures from grandma, like her Marian pin and the brass barrette she gave me when I was five.

My sister-in-law, when she visited, caught a nasty cold on the airplane and shared it, lovingly, with those close to her, including all of us.  She treated her runny nose with an assortment of beautiful dainty lady hankies and inspired me to do so as well.  I usually just borrow or steal Ryan’s plain white hankies when my nose is in need.  Well, I’d been given a number of grandma Case’s hankies, some from the 1940s, and was certain these little hankies were pining to be put back to good use.  In our house, hankies treat noses in the event of a cold and catch Juniper’s perpetual drool (see picture below).  Very sweet, I think, that Juniper is using her great-grandmother’s hankies; this would make grandma happy if she knew.

ready for church in great-grandma's purple hankie

baby and her auntie

In other non-sewing-room-related news, Ryan, Juniper and I went to Washington DC last weekend.  This is significant because 1) we’ve lived in Virginia for three years and 2) I’ve never been to DC and of course 3) Juniper has never been to a city.  We took the Metro in from Vienna station, arrived around seven in the evening, long after all the museums had closed.  We meandered the mall for maybe twenty minutes then decided to walk to Chinatown for dinner.  The three of us made it back to our accommodations by 10:30 that night and that, my friends, was all the time we needed to get our fill of the city.

me, juniper, and the washington monument

We took along one of our baby carriers, but Juniper was so eager to look at the tall buildings and watch the people on the streets that she refused to be worn and instead we carried her in our arms, facing out, all over town.

…

Books I’m reading or have just recently finished:

• One Man’s Meat by E. B. White
• Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
• Maria Montessori’s Own Handbook by, you guessed it, Maria Montessori
• The Good Earth by Pearl S. Buck
• Mother Goose, a collection by Gyo Fujikawa

Things I need to be knitting:

• another pair of baby booties, as Juniper has outgrown the last pair
• my brother’s Christmas present, a pair of fingerless library gloves
• my sister-in-law’s Christmas present, an adult-sized pointy pixie hat
• a sweater for myself!  details to follow, hopefully, in the next few months
• a summer top and diaper cover for Juniper-girl

…

We are looking forward to a visit from Ryan’s parents this week.  I’m hoping Juniper will leave off her newest habit: shrieking at the top of her lungs, in happiness and in sorrow.  Before this, she was continually blowing raspberries, which is by far much cuter than shrieking.  Any chance she’ll go back to blowing raspberries?  Probably not.  We’re also anticipating a trip home to Michigan next month for my grandpa Blakemore’s 80th birthday.  We’re not sure how baby will feel about being in a carseat for an entire day or two.  I’m psyching myself up for a good trip.

…

My twin nephews turned four last week.  Happy Birthday, J & B!  I remember when you were born, not so very long ago and not so hard to remember.  You two were so tiny and sweet.  You’re still sweet, my little men, but not quite so tiny.

Just for fun, I’ll close with two random yet charming pictures.

husband in the late afternoon sunshine

folding laundry

in the jacket/cape from Oma and Opa, she melts my heart into a million sappy pieces.

The seven little wrinkles on her middle knuckles have turned into sweet and divine dimples.

When Juniper wakes in the morning, she’s bright-eyed and smiling.  With both eyes and one adorable, toothless mouth she gives these smiles freely and gleefully.

Baby girl sleeps like a champ, would rather stand on my lap to read a book than sit, and talks and sings a wonderful idyllic babble right along with any talking and singing she hears.  She’s discovered toys just this week and made a fast and deep friendship with a stuffed giraffe from Great-grandma Blakemore, who has a knack for finding just the right stuffed animals for her grandchildren.

Juniper has brought out in me a talent for making up motions to songs I never knew I possessed.  She’s uncovered in Ryan an art for storytelling that delights and surprises us both.  We never fail to find joy and vivacity in her face and her laughter.  Every day she melts our hearts in countless new ways and, thank everything above, this is only the precious beginning.

Juniper-girl, we love you.  Life would be so very pale without you.