Marsbarn Designs...

Productivity: Does coughing count?

I cannot settle to a project.  

My brain is buzzing like a bee,   

but the pollen has been making me crazy.  

Remember that chest cold I had in May? 

Well it just kind of hung on.  

I'd think I'd evicted the last of the crud, 

and then it would kick me in the butt just to say 

"hello, I'm still here hanging out in your lower lung."  

I think the snot and head congestion from the cottonwood, 

reminded my lungs that coughing is a fun aerobic exercise.

(Can you get abs of steel from coughing up a lung?)

Now to add humor to viral insult, 

my voice sounds like a bagpipe with hormone issues.

Still, I think, I just think, I might be getting better.

Either that or I'm just getting perspective. 

What was I saying before I got distracted by my viral companions?

Oh right, I'm totally scattered. 

I am back to that buzzing stage of ideas and inspirations,

and oh my... new fabrics (!) and new projects (!),

and upcoming trips.. and my wheels are just spinning.

What I need is some serious "Get it done" traction for my mojo.  

Big E. The man, the myth, the fabric finder

On Friday I turned to Big E and uttered the words that should strike fear in every husband,  "I need more fabric."

I quickly added, "You know, not today or tomorrow, but soon, I'd like to go to some fabric shops."  

Now, we all know that Big E is made of tougher stuff than some.  That whole GSW/chronic pain/leg thing is a pretty good indicator of his general mettle. Still, I was kind of impressed by his whole undauntedness when he said, "Oh I already had a plan for today...", and people, that plan? It wasn't to visit a Fabric's Anonymous or a Sewing Intervention.  

The Plan: 

Start with sushi lunch (Seriously, YUM!)

Follow up with visit to WWII Bomber Museum 

Go to fabric shop in West Linn.

(This is where I bought the Northwest guide to fabric shops.  Did the man run for his life?  No. He started to read the darn thing.)

Get coffee and snacks 

Explore Oregon City to find more quilt shops.

Now this part of the journey could have spelled some serious marital discord.  We had two street addresses, and no map.  We were literally driving through the semi rural sprawl that is Oregon City looking for streets.  When little e started to get nervous that we were going to get lost, Big E told her to use her mind power to find the shops.  Ironically, when she closed her eyes and thought "Quilt Shop Thoughts" we found a shop about 90 seconds later.  This shop was closed.  Three o'clock on a friday, closed? Really people?  Obviously you were not meant for me.  So it was back to Little e's supernatural powers of fabric finding.

The third shop (THIRD SHOP!  Is the man amazing, or what?) was a definite score.  Let's Quilt was a lovely shop full of batiks, Asian fabrics, and lots of other tempting flavors of fabric.  And the best bit? When the four of us poured through the shop door shouting, "You're open, we found you!!" the shop lady rolled with it.

Then, the miracle to top off all miracles, when we got home everyone said, "That was the Best Day.  Let's do it again!"

Little e and her bee, on closer inspection

"Mom, you know... I really loved my dead bee."

"Mom, someday I might find another dead bee."

"Of course, that bee's head will eventually fall off too."

"MOM! Someday, do you think I might have a collection of headless dead bees?"

I love a girl who can find joy in any situation. 

***********

photos:

These photos were all taken through Sweetheart G's microscope via the technical process of pressing my digital camera against the microscope lens.  Crude, but relatively effective.

top photo: close up of the bee's wing complete with pollen bits

middle photo: the bee's eye

bottom photo: this is the shot that made the girls fascinated and repulsed in flickering rotations of about 5 seconds each.  "Cool! Ewww! Cool! Ewww!"  We are looking up into the head of the bee.  The opening in the center of the photo (behind the microscope's pointer) lines up with the bee's mouth.  The dark ovals in the cartilage are where the eyes are. The furry appendage in the bottom quadrant of the photo is the back of the bee's mandible.  

Yes, mine is a very special blog.

the few, the brave... the committee members.

And with a flurry and a blurry rush of activities, the school year is over.

Sort of.

There is still a small commando force of volunteers working away for next year.  They are interviewing new teacher candidates, planning calendars, making budgets, and doing the myriad collects of stuff that has to get done for the school to run smoothly on the tight budget we have.  

Essentially they are doing jobs that should be paid positions.

Me?  No, I'm not macho enough for those missions.  

I did take home a pile of chairbags to repair for next year's kindergarten,

but this is a bit like rolling bandages for the real troops.

You might have noticed my jobs tend toward the solo endeavors.

It is not that I can't work with others,

or that I have to captain my own boat,

and I don't crave total control.

Honestly, I am totally happy being a follower,

if the leader knows the path and the objective.

But it comes down to this:

This is not my sandbox.

It belongs to my children.

And if I poop in it, 

they are the ones who have to deal with the stink.

I have a temper, 

it's a doozy when it gets riled,

and if you want to see it flame up,

put me on a committee.

Bureaucracies drive me crazy. 

Endless meetings that go no where 

and people who do not listen to reason

make me want to scream.

Incompetency makes me see red.

And those issues that take years to go anywhere?

Oh man.  

The patience that can see me through 90 kindergardeners

armed with fabric paint,

will be gone in a matter of seconds

and I'll be ready to send in the strike force.

So you elite commandos of the volunteer set,

thank you for the brave and dangerous job you do!

I'd nominate each and everyone of you for hazard pay,

you know.. if we got paid at all.

They don't make Hallmark cards for dead bee fatalities.

Little e had some tragedy today.  

Her dead bee lost its head.

The original demise of the honey bee has been a source of much talk.

Did it die of a heart attack?

Did it crash into the sidewalk?

This honey bee has had a fabulous postmortem life.

It has been examined by Sweetheart G's microscope, carried to school repeatedly, and generally loved by Little e. She would hold it and look at it. Pet it.  Talk to it.

 

When the bee was first found, I warned little e that she had to be careful; even a dead bee can sting. To her six year old credit, she was always very careful and respectful of her little friend.  There were major tears when the bee's exoskeleton began to come apart.

"Oh, MOM! I might NEVER find a dead bee AGAIN!"

Once she'd calmed down, her sad little voice capitulated with, 

"At least I still have my dead ladybug."

Excuse me now, we're going to go look into the thorax with the microscope.  

  

Edited to add:

More little e quotes: 

"Mom, it's just upsetting when a friend's head comes off."

So very, very true.

The Promised Land of full time school, and other delusions

Tomorrow is the last day of school.  

This was the first year that both girls were in full day school together.  

I was "alone" (ie without child accompaniment) from 8 to 2:15, Monday to Friday every week. Ah the mom-at-home Promised Land of full time schooling.  That time when the To Do's and the Time To Do It is supposed to synch up.  Of course, there was the double duty volunteering, the teaching spree, the duel room parent thang, the auction projects, the book fair, etc, to fill up my new "free" time.  Still, I did actually get more stuff done at home than I've ever gotten done before.  This year was my best yet for balancing house work and my own interests. When I was mid project, we had fewer "just find something and eat it" meals.  In my pre-holiday sale madness, where I sew, and sew, and sew, the house never reached that state of utter Disaster Zone.  (In years past, you could walk in the door and judge where I was in my project fervor by the amount of crap everywhere.  See a clear surface? Oh I must be only just beginning.)  And best of all,  Big E and I instituted a weekly lunch date, which was divine.  In the fall, I was accused by certain Mom's that my expectation of "free" time was totally delusional...  but all in all, I think this was a good year and a hell of a lot of stuff got done.

In the realm of delusions about how much I can get done,  I had a 24 hour spat of delirium where I considered trying to run a week of crafty summer camp at the house.  Start the morning with textile/arty projects, some kitchen fun for lunch, and free play time in the afternoon for a small group of kiddos.  It could totally work.  Really.  But. Well. Maybe. I don't know.  Perhaps this is an idea that needs to percolate some more in my little brain. 

Ahoy, matey... got milk?

It was a perfect day for a race.

The brave captains gathered with their noble crafts.

The ingenuity, the grace, the duct tape!

And each and every one was a winner!

(Especially since none of the racers we saw fell into the duck infested waters.  The sea here is a very special color of algae.)

busy without rush or hurry

The weekend started with the best possible beginnings; sleeping in until almost 9.  Oh heaven!  Then armed with my coffee, I spent the morning whipping stuff up in the kitchen, starting with  pumpkin donuts for breakfast.  With empanadas and a lemon cream pie prepped for dinner, a friend of  Sweetheart G's came over. This is the boy who made the dragon fabric art last weekend. He came back to hang out with Sweet G and to watch me turn his fabric piece into a tote bag.  (Oh the thrill of having someone honestly interested in how it all comes together!)  I finished up two projects from last weekend, and there was just enough time between one friend leaving and our dinner company arriving for me to pull together the prepped meal (chicken enchiladas, beef empanadas, green salad with grapes and feta, with pie and strawberries for dessert).  

Today was the sort of laid back-busy day where nothing felt rushed or hurried, there was plenty of easy company, and I ended the day wondering why we don't do this more often.

switching gears, changing priorities

We have three more days of school and then we will wake up and be free to follow our whims.  I am ready for a bit of unscripted time.  I'm trying to wrap up some projects of my own, so I'll have time to start some new projects with the girls.  My Etsy shop is fully stocked with dice bags, and the projects from Sunday's class are moving right along.  My summer projects include a baby quilt (pattern and fabrics undetermined) for a friend, some collages, and finishing up some knitting projects (I started a sweater, remember that?). Above all, I want to do more art with the girls this summer.  I get so wrapped up in what I want to do, that I worry I shut them out of the process sometimes.  

One mild mannered persona exposed as fraud

Wow.  Who knew that one jackass with a leaf blower could insight me to yelling curses within sixty seconds of contact.  (Okay, if you knew that already, just sit on your hands and let me think I'm normally a nice, calm person.)  But really, if you are going to blow leaves a block from an elementary school don't do it right when school gets out.  The whole yelling at me when I'm with my kids because we stopped on the sidewalk for 30 seconds, and claiming that we've "stopped in the middle of your work area", is so not cool.  First, that "work area" of yours is, in fact, a public sidewalk and we have right of way.  You were in our way, not the other way around.  Why are you blowing leaves for living? Someone with your ability to inspire rage should be revving up sports teams during halftime not picking fights with stay-at-home mom's.