Snoodle

Birthweek

Happy Birthday to my beloved husband! 

Eleanor's birthday was Thursday, and it has really felt like birthweek.  The first sailing race of the year was also on Thursday, and to avoid losing daddy to the bay, we tagged along with him.  After an evening of sitting on cleats, rope burn, and white knuckles, I've decided I'm going to stick to pleasure cruises.  Eleanor, however, was hip to every tack and jibe.  She scrambled to the high side like a pro.  After the race, she got to steer and hang out on the foredeck with dad. 

There was no cake.  Heck, dinner was Pringles.  But by the silly grin on her face, I don't think she noticed.

We had a family celebration on Monday for the first BBQ of the year and birthday cake.  I forgot the sailboat toy so I made an impromptu decoration for my Mac Geek... who also likes dinosaurs.  The rest of the credit, of course, goes to my mother. 

Eleanor's first request for a gift has become quite clear lately.  Naturally, it would have to be a toy that is no longer available in stores!  Through the generosity of a dear coworker, however, Nora's dream came true.  "Pinch me!" she kept saying.  I wonder where she gets her sense of drama?!  More about Felicity in a later post.  There's surprisingly much to say! 

Right before we left grandma and grandpa's house, as if it knew it were her celebration, a rabbit came out of the woods.  Apparently, it will sit watching while my father mows the lawn, but we're letting Nora feel like she is the rabbit-whisperer.  After all, birthdays are full of wonder.

Bloom Where You Are Planted

    I want a garden.  Not just that, I want to be a gardener.  I want to step barefoot into the backyard to harvest a salad.  I want to heal using herbs that wind into the depths of our property.  I want to fill dye-pots with hues plucked from a medieval-style plot.  I want to send Eleanor out to pick favorite blooms to decorate our dinner table.  I want a wide brimmed hat and dirt under my fingernails. Then, I remember that this is a rented home and close the door.

    This has been a sabotaging obstacle for me: this pesky renting, this tiny apartment.  I keep myself from doing projects because I'm waiting for a bigger bedroom, an attic sewing room, a pantry, and that garden I truly can call my own.  For years, I've been shying away from tending a garden because of the ever-present hope that we might move. 

    A little while ago I went to a garage sale with my sister-in-law in a very poor rural area.  The house wasn't much to look at, but the garden was sensational.  It was brilliantly covered with beautiful flowers and herbs.  She had small gardens with decorations and vignettes scattered throughout.  She spoke with great fondness about her plants.  It was clear that she was devoted to them and in turn, they gave her great joy.  My sister said, "she's really bloomed where she's planted."  I agreed but was internally thinking it a bit of a cliche- one of those phrases you see on stepping stones or fence plaques.  But after we got into the car, I though more about it.  She really did bloom, very literally, where she was.  She created an oasis of beauty spread out before her double-wide. Maybe I could, too.

    Indeed, it's expensive and a lot of work to start a proper garden when we might just leave it.  But little things have been creeping into the yard- the determined mint, the strawberries that might actually produce if the woodchucks don't get to them first, and a scattering of cheery violets and other little flowers and greenery fill the gaps between the blades of grass.  If these plants aren't speaking to me, my seven year-old certainly is!  I need to succumb to the fact that I surely have years -plural!- to continue living here and make it bloom. 

    It might be nice for the next tenants to have a little beauty left behind.

    This gardening idea, along with our farm fantasy, is not new.  Nora and I have been dreaming about our future garden filled with lilacs, apple trees, daffodils, herbs, and favorite veggies. We already have strawberries as berries of all kinds are high on the list.   Lately, she's been sure to comment on the bleeding hearts that we see as we walk through the neighborhood.  Knowing the generosity of our neighbors, I sent a plea to our neighborhood forum and asked if anyone had this particular plant to share.  I got many responses and immediately pounced!  We loaded up the wagon and a shovel and made our way to a hidden garden down the street.  We dug up the plant and replanted it under the dappled light of our (neighbor's) tree.  Its close to Sweet Pea's grave where, indeed, Eleanor keeps a piece of her heart.  The delight I have gotten in its presence makes me think that I might just be getting my hands dirty more often... right here where I'm planted.

First Holy Communion

At the beginning of this school year, when asked about what she was most looking forward to, her answer was receiving communion.  So excited, in fact, that I agreed to teach the second grade religious education class at our church.  So excited that even though she is being taught the same material at her school, she came to class with me every Sunday so that she could make her First Communion in the same parish that I made mine.  She was glowing with that excitement on Sunday... and maybe just a little nervous.

She had the honor of reading the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles.

We are all so grateful that our large family and many friends were able to celebrate this day with us including grandparents, Godparents and even Monsignor who gave her the blessed sacrament.

The cousin away at college even remembered to call.

Grandma, of course, made a lovely cake topped with one of the two cake toppers that was on my sisters' cake.   Being twins, however, no one was quite sure which twin it belonged to!   I was pretty sure I had one of these toppers as well.

It gives me such joy that Eleanor truly understands what it is to receive the Holy Eucharist.  She radiated the light of that special moment throughout the entire day.

The Perfect Little Dress

    My once tiny baby will be making her First Communion this May.  For years, I thought that I would sew the dress for her special day.  Alas, I should have spent those years sewing!  Now, I have a deadline.  I don't like deadlines.  I don't do well with deadlines.  I get panicky, and as I'm told, hard to live with when I have a deadline.  I wanted to sew something lovely, with the finest fabric.  Something like this:

    Wonderful mother, Jennie Chancey, made this dress for her daughter, Olivia.  That's Olivia above.  It was made using Sense and Sensibility's 1780's Portrait Dress.  Oh, the dresses on that site are dreamy!  And, yes, there are patterns for adults as well.  I have a weakness for anything historical, and this is Nora's favorite period.  It would have been perfect...  This site is well placed in my bookmarks to be visited when I'm free of deadlines.

    When I realized it might not be a good plan to sew this special dress, I looked at many dresses on-line.  Most were too expensive or more likely too "princess-y" with their puffy skirts, frills, beading, and even a train!  Some of them aren't even modest.  I'm not sure if people understand this event.  I mean, really!

Aaaaaaaa!

    I was getting nowhere, and I needed a source of beautiful, affordable, timeless dresses for children.  Happily, it occurred to me that right in my own city is the exceptional designer, April Cornell.  I've been wearing her dresses since college.  I've worn them to weddings, garden parties (with matching hat, of course), choir concerts, holidays, and a swanky cocktail party.  I tend to associate important events with the corresponding April Cornell dress.  My selections have included the classic floral dress perfect for Spring events to a Boardwalk Empire worthy beaded gown.  I felt so beautiful in that dress.  It wasn't just the cocktails.

So, off we went, mother and daughter, to April Cornell.  We had a lovely experience of trying on dresses.  Well, she did - though, I was tempted!  It felt as if they were expecting her.  The saleswoman that we first encountered said she was Jewish and therefore wasn't quite sure what was appropriate for this event.   Once I filled her in, she was abundantly helpful.  In fact, a few others joined in helping us choose - along with much "Oooing and Ahhing."  One even put sweet-smelling lotion on Nora as well as a little glitter so that she would feel all the more special. 

After trying on a few dresses:  one was deemed too simple, the other too scratchy, (she'll never wear a slip!) Nora found the very perfect dress.

Antoinette Dress by April Cornell

    The embroidered tulle overlay is absolutely precious and the neckline provides the perfect space for a special necklace.  I never would have thought that we would have chosen a blue dress, but truly, it is perfect.  As blue is a special color for Mary, and May is her month, I thought it was just the right choice. 

    This beautiful young lady is of course a model.  I will wait until May to post photos of Nora in this dress.  At that time, I would like to focus on the special sacrament and not her attire.  As Nora said in the dressing room as I was fussing perhaps too much with a dress, "Mommy, it's not about the dress.  It's about receiving the body and blood of Jesus."  Well stated, my dear.  You are certainly ready.

Remembering Rachel

Rachel Bissex and Emma Goldberg

    Rachel Bissex had been a staple of the Burlington folk scene since before I was aware there was a Burlington folk scene.  My big sister used to take me to Rachel's shows at Trinity College where she was booking gigs for her dorm.  Knowing with certainty that anything she liked was sure to be cool, I became a fan.  My love for folk music was born which was a good thing because my friends were listening to a lot of New Kids on the Block and Tiffany at the time.  I discovered how much I love live music, and folk music was really accessible, and Rachel’s was the best.
    Rachel had an active philosophy of being completely attentive to the person she was with.  She took time to talk after her shows, and I grew to love her personality as much as her music.  I became babysitter to her daughter, Emma, often when Rachel was touring.  Emma tirelessly listened to the Aladdin soundtrack and eventually brought home a violin and would play Hot Cross Buns which I politely listened to...over and over and over.  I remember Rachel's joy that her daughter was developing her own passion for music.
    Eventually, Rachel took to driving me along to some of her instate gigs.  I’d play the chicken-shake and sing along to her songs while she warmed up on the way there, and she’d ask me about her stage presence on the way back.  What the heck did I know about stage presence?!  But she was attentive; treating me as an equal at a time when I was to so many others “just a kid”.  This attitude led me to believe that I could have an opinion not just on folk music, but so much more.  I became empowered in her passenger seat.
    It was in that seat that she told me about an exciting camp that had just started for families called Camp Common Ground.  She suggested that I might be a good fit for the children’s morning program.  She sold the idea by dreamily describing late-night campfire singalongs along with details about the camp’s workshops from sailing, to singing, to massage.  I worked at that camp for a few summers during a time when I needed to explore a different world.  It was a great opportunity to try out pottery, sunrise yoga, reiki, pastel drawing at night, and kayaking.  She was right, though.  Singing along at the late-night campfires was my favorite part.
    David and I often went to Rachel’s shows at local coffee shops or in the park.  After the CD release concert of Don’t Look Down, we went to David’s apartment where he proposed.  I don’t know what the date was.  I only remember it from this event.  Was it really 1995?  I guess we were engaged for a long time!
    I was pregnant with Nora when I found out that Rachel had breast cancer.  Wrapped up in new-motherhood, I didn’t get much of a chance to see her.  The last time I did was at the Champlain Valley Folk Festival where she passionatly sang new songs from her latest album In White Light.  She sang that album's title song; one for her son who she knew she may soon leave and her signature song, Dancing With My Mother, which tells of the generational love that mother's have for their daughters.  Each song, new and old, continued to convey the love that Rachel showed for family, friends, and music.

 

     Seven years have passed since we lost Rachel.  Her daughter, Emma, is now a beautiful woman teaching violin in Brooklyn (I can only hope it’s Hot Cross Buns).  Knowing the struggles and joys of the life of an artist, she continues to radiate Rachel’s light in her passion and adventure with her own musical projects.  Gathering those artists touched by Rachel, Emma organized a tribute concert to benefit cancer victims called Dancing with Rachel Saturday night. 
    Some of the artists, including the 2011 recipient of the White Light Fund scholarship, Giovanina Bucci, never met Rachel.  However, listening to her sing one of Rachel’s songs made it clear that her music lives on. 

 

Carol Abair

    The most emotional performance for me was Carol Abair’s Whistle Me Dixie.  This song, poplularized by Rachel's recording, was written by the imensely talented Abair.  The beauty with which she sang it brought forth the love that Carol has for Rachel.  Sitting next to my sweet daughter, who I used to rock to sleep singing that song, made clear the strength that music has in connecting those touched by it.

 

Linda Bassick and Emma Sky

    Linda Bassick showed the passion that Rachel had for music by singing Rachel's Passion.  That's Linda, on guitar, who I met as a collegue and was Nora's Infant teacher. She is passionate about everything from quality early education to music.  She showed her range by skipping the children's music to sing Passion.  The f-bomb is tossed in there, and I remember one of those drives with Rachel when she was wondering what to call the un-named album that included this track.  She was talking about how her older stuff was so sweet, and that "she used to be nice."  I stopped her and said that that would be a great title for her CD.

 

Mitch Barron, Rik Palieri, Rebecca Padula, and Emma Sky

    I was thrilled to hear my friend, Rebecca Padula, sing one of my favorite Bissex tunes, Eve of Construction, a witty song about spring driving in Vermont.  It reminded me of all the miles I traveled with Rachel.  Rebecca’s own Campfire Light with Rik Palieri’s banjo, Mitch Barron’s bass, and of course, Emma Sky’s violin was exactly the kind of moment that would have had Rachel harmonizing along. 

Rewind

Once again, I never typed a word here in December.  Oh, I've composed posts in my mind, but until Typepad can upload that, you'll have to settle for a little rewind!  The whole holiday season (yes, Thanksgiving through New Year) felt a bit ...strange.  Vermont conjures up images of skiing, Snowflake Bentley, and the white-capped roofs of postcard towns.  But we've had snowier Easters than this winter.  Last night, we actually got some accumulation, and it is still here!  Nora and David are out sledding right now.  The computer is free so I thought I would start with a little rewind.

We had Thanksgiving at David's mother's house.  David's sister brought one of her turkeys.  Last year the turkey was 38 lbs.  This year:  41 lbs.!  It didn't have a chance of fitting into a roasting pan so an aluminum foil juice-funneling system was developed.  It took three people to do this, but there was a lot of hard cider involved. 

 

I made a scrumdiddlyuptious almond torte which was devoured long before dinner.  Note for next year:  Thanksgiving day requires lunch.  There was no way that bird was going to be done by 2:00 which is, for some reason, the official time of Thanksgiving dinner.

*****

We got our Christmas tree from a fundraiser at Nora's school.  David schlepped it home over his shoulder.  The neighborhood children thought it was quite entertaining.  I think this photo is quite entertaining:

*****

Somehow, our whole family was in the Nativity play at Nora's school this year.  For the theater major and dramatic child, this is no surprise.  However, this was a step waaaay out of David's comfort zone.  So, what was his role?  Why, Joseph, of course!  As we say, "If you're gonna do it, do it to it!" He did it and was great.  Mary helped him remember to face the audience, and he remembered all of his lines which was perfection for this performance which included a host of giggling angels and concluded with baby Jesus wailing during the last 15 minutes of the show.  I wish there were more photos, but being on stage as the innkeeper's wife, I was unable to snap any.  These were taken by Jon Hughes.

David as Joseph sleeping.  He's been in training for this scene for years!

 

Nora as a shepherd (perfect!)  She also did great with her lines. 

I made these costumes.

 

I also made the sheep costumes.  I think they're sleeping in this scene.

*****

Our church's Nativity event continued this year.  We showed our family's nativities:  Playmobile, our slowly-growing Ostheimer (Mary was added on Christmas), and the one that Nora made when she was in Kindergarten.

 

My mother has many Nativities and depictions of the Holy Family.  I think the official baby Jesus count on Christmas day at Grandma's house was 42!  Here she is at one table filled only with her Nativities:

 

My favorite, though, is the nativity that we had when I was a child.  The original figures are long gone/ broken.  Mom wistfully wishes she could have the same style again.  I've been searching ebay.  But the stable is the most nostalgic piece for us.  During some lean times with three children and one (me) on the way, my father took at 2x4 and split it into thin slats to make the rustic outside.  The base is a Tide box!  For years, you could see the bright orange logo on the back, but feeling embarrassed about it, my mother since covered it with the sturdy paper of a grocery bag...  I think I'm getting a sense of where my frugality came from!

 

The Nativities were blessed by our Monsignor.  If you're Catholic, you'll recognize that this was Gaudete Sunday as he is wearing his rose-colored Chasuble.

*****

On an entirely different note, we say this display on the way to Nora's Christmas concert.

This is an SD Ireland tradition.  They also entertain us with pink concrete mixers and a parade of their fleet on March 17... I wonder why?

*****

We had a fun time at my sister's house playing games (Awkward Famly Photos, Scategories, and Apples to Apples) on New Year's Eve.  Some of us didn't make it for ringing in the New Year, but I'm glad you made it to the end of this post!

*****

I'm not quite done rewinding.  I'll fill you in on why this child is running next time!

 

 

 

The Night of the Gypsy Princess

If you had asked me a couple of months ago, I would have guessed that my evening tonight would have been spent with a Revolutionary War Era lass or even a large rabbit, but this wasn't the case.  Instead we spent the night with a gypsy princess.  Now, I'm not sure where the gypsy idea came from.  I don't actually know if my darling daughter knows much about gypsies other than their fabulous skirts made for twirling and a knack for the tambourine.  So, I drew my inspiration from where most of my inspiration seems to be flowing:  Mad Men! 

I thought I would buy a vintage pattern, but it wasn't necessary for this project.  I had my eye on the one below from New Vintage Lady on Etsy- which is still available. 

Instead, I took inspiration from it and set to make do with what I had.

The top is white quilting fabric from my stash.  It could serve as a future underdress layer this Fall/ Winter.  I used the same pattern that I used for her Easter ensemble and beloved green dress that I wrote about here. 

I just gathered four tiers of colorful fabric to make the skirt- fast and easy!  The bottom tier is over 200 inches and the others decrease to the top tier which was the 45" width of that fabric.

The head scarf is folded in a half triangle and tied in the back.  The striped waist scarf is just tied at the hip.  We borrowed both of these as well as numerous other options from our local Front Porch Forum.  Thanks, neighbor!

Grandma loaned the shawl which was essential as it's dang cold on Halloween in Vermont!  She's also wearing a leotard and a long sleeve tee and fleece pants under there!

The necklace and clip on hoop earrings were the only items that I purchased.  I got them at Claire's on a rare mall trip.

Thanks to my friends in music and theater, we borrowed the perfect gypsy tambourine from a local high school theater department.  I tied ribbon streamers into a jingle-less slot.

 

Overall, it was deemed a very successful costume.

A Little Bit Country

Nora and I are back from our fabulous weekend in Vermont.  As the old joke goes, "Why do people live in Burlington... to be close to Vermont."  and while my city is technically within state lines, we saw a whole lot of the real Vermont over the course of three days.  In fact, by Sunday evening, we had travelled through 57 towns!  My sister-in-law's farm is just lovely.  Her home is an early 19th century colonial with a "new" addition: new meaning late 1800s-1910s.  Her 10 acre farm is home to horses, chickens, quail, rabbits, turkeys, sheep, goats, and a black labrador.  Nora has been anticipating barn chores for weeks and was thrilled to sweep the aisle of the barn and gather eggs.  She stayed up very late each night, but waking up to hot chocolate made with raw milk from the farm across the road was totally worth it!

On the way to the Wool and Sheep Festival (every thing's a festival in VT), there was a row of cars pulled over.  It took us a moment to figure out what was stopping traffic, and then we saw him!  A moose!!!

Okay, I've never seen a moose before; a fact that my husband, an Alaska native, finds hilarious.  (Don't get me started on the aurora borealis either.  I'm sure it's a myth!)  So, I was snapping away with my camera from the safety of the car.  Some folks were not so cautious, and one woman was bringing her child closer to it.  Then, a trucker laid on the horn of an 18 wheeler -maybe due to the traffic congestion.  Yikes.  It was time to get outta there!

So, we continued on to the Vermont Wool and Sheep Festival.  It was fun to go with people who have sheep as well as angora goats as my sister-in-law (a knitter) and niece (a weaver) asked questions to vendors that I wouldn't have even considered.  So, I wound up learning a lot.   Although I'm pretty sure that the question of owning my own flock of sheep is decided: no, there is a rich amount of to be learned about all of those fabulous natural fibers that will keep my quite busy for a lifetime!

Jacob sheep

Falling in love with angora rabbits.  She had to settle with a Folkmanis puppet.  Though, I think it's just a matter of time...

Weaving at the children's table

Border collie trials: my favorite!

and on the way back, we saw a lovely horse team passing us on the road.  I whipped out my camera fast enough to prove it.  Oh, it is clear that I am a city girl.  I don't want to be, but I am.  I'll give it a year or two before I settle into a life of felting, taking care of the angora rabbit Nora so desires, and I'll be so country, I'll just leave my camera in my bag when a horse team trots by... but I'll still take it out if there's a moose!

Thanks again, Wen and Heather, for another wonderful woolly weekend!

Happy Birthday, Jim Henson

 

Few people have left a legacy like Jim Henson.   I wonder if I would have been a teacher without knowing at a young age that it was possible to have fun while learning.  At every age, there was a special fondness for Muppets.  When my parents bought a color console tv, I was thrilled that I would get to see Big Bird - BIG and in color!  I attribute much of my early learning to catchy Sesame Street tunes.  

 

 

 

 While "too old" to see Follow That Bird  I recall the excitement of my big sister taking me to the movie theater and I'm pretty sure I was her excuse to go.  The Labyrinth was by far the coolest movie I watched as a teenager.  While dating my now husband (who taught me that the Goblin king actually had other material), there was a lot of Fraggle Rock watching. I think I fell in love discussing the finer points of the Minstrels.  

Then, we got married and had a baby who had this poster in her room since before she was born.

and her first plate was mine as a child.  She used to point to the letters of her name in the alphabet around the rim.  I thought it was funny that I could find it in this old photo.

When Nora was a young child, there was always an internal struggle with my desire to keep her media-free and my desire to share the Muppets with her.  Ultimately, the Muppets won and the first television that she ever watched was The Muppet Family Christmas just after we had decorated our tree. 

She didn't watch Sesame Street until the Old School DVDs came out and we've nearly wore a hole in them.  She still doesn't watch much television... lately, there's been only The Andy Griffith Show and The Muppet Show.  She loves Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem Orchestra.  Just this afternoon, she was  rocking out to Can You Picture That?  Oh Yeahhhhhhh!

 

..and mama has a blog *Snoodle*  A word I learned from Jim Henson's The Storyteller (Hans My Hedgehog).

The mother  in the tale says,

"I want a baby to wrap in a bundle and sing to and snoodle with and hug to bits"

Later Hans says,

"I want you for my princess of sweetness and cherry pie.  I want to catch you up and sing to you and snoodle you and hug you to bits."

Here's the whole episode:

 

As Nora describes it:  "A snoodle is an important kind of cuddle."

It's important and cuddly to those who need it - from a baby to an adult.  We all could use a little snoodle now and again.  Thanks, Jim, for inspiring so many snoodles, so many happy memories, so many lives from the young to the old.

Happy 75th Birthday, Jim.

From,

The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

 

Good-bye, Sweet Pea

A year is far too short to have a pet, but I can truly say that we enjoyed every minute that we had our dear Sweet Pea.  An adult rabbit when she came into our lives, Sweet Pea was always very docile.  It was that calmness that kept us from building her a hutch, from keeping her in a cage, and allowed her the freedom to roam wherever she pleased... even if she never strayed far from her "area."  She was a beloved friend to Eleanor who thoroughly enjoyed snuggling her and who learned much about responsibility through caring for her.

Because she was not a very active rabbit, it was difficult to determine that she was ill.  She started to eat less and less and her stools rapidly changed.  It was that which caused us to bring her to the emergency veterinary hospital.  They gave her medications and sent her home with antibiotics.  We were able to give her a snuggle and allowed her to rest quietly.  When I next checked on her, she was gone.  Nora knew before I could tell her, and while she was clearly devastated.  She quickly concluded that Sweet Pea is in Heaven and that we will be see her when we go there.  She petted her and making funeral arrangements was the appropriate distraction.  A box lined with Timothy hay was decorated with stickers, doilies, and a drawing of an angel with a rabbit in her arms.

The funeral service was beautiful.  Nora read a prayer that she had written:

This bunny was cute,

pretty, fluffy, and wonderful.

and she is so important to me. 

God, please watch over her.  Amen

Her grave was decorated with flowers and the clover and dandelion greens that she so loved, and a bunny garden sculpture.  We will miss our family's first pet.  There's certainly a hollowness left in the house.  But I am ever so grateful for Nora's faith that her little bunny is happy in Heaven.