Forgotten UFO's

We all need them every now then ... a lovely, lazy weekend. This was one such. It's Sunday afternoon, and I just woke from a most delicious nap. {yawn}. One dog has assumed the position: belly up, feet against the wall, tail flat along the hallway, completely relaxed and sound asleep. The other is curled up at the foot of my bed, occasionally snoring. {bliss}

It seems a bit weird to intrude on the day's quietness by grabbing my iPad and plinking out a few lines. But you know what they say ... striking, hot irons, and all that.

I can hear spring enjoying the afternoon, too. The little house finches, sparrows, chickadees ... They are raising a ruckus in the rhododendron outside my window. The wind is taking advantage of the break in the rain and teasing the trees a bit and shadows dance across the far wall. I suppose I'll have to get up eventually, and go fill the bird feeder. Did you know, chickadees can be awfully pushy about dinner?

As low-key as it's been, it's also been an incredibly productive weekend. Saturday decided to pout. Or pour. Whatever. It bucketed. Which meant no outside chores (woo hoo!) and the opportunity to putter in my room. I cleaned, purged, organized, and found stuff I forgot I had!

There is the yarn I have finally acknowledged I will never turn into a project bagged and ready to be donated away. The photos FINALLY corralled into an album. A bulging bookshelf put back into order. The dusting put off too long. And, most importantly, the UFO's--UnFinished Objects--quilting projects rediscovered. Who knew I had stashed a few in THAT storage cupboard after I moved ... six years ago? Or tucked a few away in THAT drawer while I figured out how I wanted to organize my sewing room?

Doesn't matter, not really. They are found, fondly remembered, and now back on the To-Do list. I've neglected my sewing machine for far too long. Quilting is my form of therapy--the creative process, the soothing hum of the machine, the stunning finished products. I love shopping for fabric (especially if it's to be a gift), listening to what the fabric says it wants to be. I love the whole process. 

Left: a challenge quilt circa 2004, I think.
Middle: a crazy quilt started in 2001 (it's been tucked away a while)
Right: Round Robin circa 2005. 

Four of the twelve I found that are ready for backing, pinning, and quilting. I've challenged myself to finish at least 5 for the Scio Lamb and Wool Fair in May.  

I utterly adore batiks. I spent at least a year collecting fat quarters from different shops all over the state. I think my biggest stash might've come from the shop in Newport. I'm pretty sure I started this project in 2004. And I'm pretty sure it's been tucked away at least 3 years, maybe 4. I am really going to enjoy finishing this one. 

After dinner, I'm off to tame a UFO! 

So much inspiration, so little time

I'm not a big fan of recreating the proverbial wheel. Especially if someone else has been terrifically brilliant. So I go looking for inspiration, and I am very rarely disappointed. The problem is that--like with so many other things--there really can be too much of a good thing. 

Sometimes I wonder how I managed before Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest ... but then I remember my Pollyanna sees opportunity in, well, nearly everything.

When I kept the commitment to myself to start this project, I really did worry if I would have enough things to write about. At least, enough things of significance to write about. Or, more accurately, enough topics other people would think significant enough to read. Lately, I've noticed I make mental notes--gee, that photo or that interaction would be a great blog topic. And I have a space staked out in Evernote to corral them all. The Idea Bucket doth indeed runneth over. 

But back to my point about too much of a good thing: I've been spinning wheels lately, not quite sure where to start. Thinking about the right angle to approach a topic from. Deciding how to put down my thoughts in a coherent manner. Finding an appropriate photo or image. Catching myself editing a post I haven't even written yet. And then realizing another day has passed and there are more ideas flooding aforementioned Idea Bucket. 

Time to give myself permission to stop over-thinking things and just do. 

Ta-da. 

To-done. 

More to come ...

It's the most wonderful time of the year ...

Truly.  I love the Christmas season.

I love the twinkle of lights, the comforting smell of home made cookies, cinnamon and fresh-cut tree, and the tradition of cozy evenings tucked up with family, quoting our favorite Christmas movies like The Christmas Story, White Christmas, the Grinch, and all the other seasonal staples.

I love that shopping is sanctioned. But mostly, I love that giving, in whatever price range, is not viewed as gratuitous extravagance. Speaking of, I'm grateful for the ultimate gift Christ paid on the cross. A marvelous gift indeed.

On the flip side, patience, in the face of presents, is not a virtue. Giving, not getting.

I suck at waiting a specific day to give said gifts. Which is why Christmas lasts all December in my world. Not so friendly to my pocket book, but, that's why we work hard, right? I do my part to support the local economy.

Last weekend, my family and I went exploring (shopping trip with no particular destination), and found the Christmas Barn in Shedd. It's literally a barn--stuffed to the rafters with fun, creative decorations like those in the pictures.


Yes, I did purchase a few things. Yes, those gifts have already been given, loved, and are now on display for enjoyment this year.

One of my favorite pieces of decoration is in the photo to the left. A Styrofoam ball, covered with scraps of sheet music, in a classic sorbet dish. The dish was $5, but I'm sure you could find it less expensive elsewhere. A candy dish could do just as well. Styrofoam ball, what, $1? Old sheet music could be found at nearly any garage sale or flea market. Cheap (but not tacky!), easy (and glue is involved, how great is that?) done.

Where do you find holiday inspiration?