Crafty: Corduroy Kitten Skirt with Shorties

Eeee!! How easy and fun is it to sew a skirt for a little girl! No womanly curves to adjust for and attempt to flatter, and all the fun color and cuteness you can get away with.

Anjali brainstormed with me about fabrics and decoration on this one ( I think I'll save her frog patch idea for another time...). It's just a square with a stretchy knit drawstring. The polka dot corduroy is soft and lightweight. I've had it in my fabric pile for such a long time, it's bordering on vintage. ;)

We got a few shots with this top-notch outfit Papi put together.

And then I added the shorties! From the same thrifted t-shirt as the kitten patch, I used the sleeves for the legs (like I did for these wool pants) and serged them together, then attached them to the skirt. A manic two-afternoon whiz of a project, I love the results. I hope she does! I'd like to make more like this. A carefree summertime play costume.

Getting Out the Door

Naturalized arugula in my favorite guerilla garden here in Sac.

Getting Out the Door

An early morning girl-date to Magpie for breakfast.

Getting Out the Door

Neighborhood walk with a snack stop at "the honeybee house":

Getting Out the Door

Inspired by our outings up in Oregon, and determined not to get stuck in the dark house when the sun is shining, I'm making an effort.

Every effort deserves some motivation. We stopped at Temple before we headed to the biketrail. Anjali's Tangerine Ginger tea was much more photogenic than my coffee.

Beginning of the biketrail on the levee, overlooking the swollen American River,

hundreds of cheerful clouds.

gratitude: for friends :Corvallis

For such an impromptu and short trip, this weekend up in Oregon felt slow, full, and intentional. Moments of sunshine, warmth (well...at least on the inside...), rain and cold. Brilliant green fields, glimpses of cloud-hugged mountains, and small-town sidewalks. Nourishing home-cooked meals, indulgent pizzas, and flowing beer (a true trip to Oregon must include it!). Two giggling girls, and many Anjali costume changes. A gratifyingly lengthy bikeride, and hours of conversation, scheming and laughter. We've been together often enough lately that open stretches of time pass in which we are not agape at our cosmic connections and epic, still-expanding story, but simply enjoy each others' company.

Walks, talks, and good folks.

Girls.

Quiet and sunshine. Stairs and Quito kitty.

shenanigans

A reunion of my tushy and a bikeseat for a delicious countryside ride.

Silly.

Below: awesome ladies' bathroom message in the equally awesome

Hopworks Urban Brewery in Portland

(Interestingly, we met the owner of this place on our return flight from Baja.

His personable modesty belied the hugeness and radness of his obviously very successful creation).

Movin' Right Along...Crafty : Wool Pants for My Girl

(Another song I love! By the Muppets..)

Ahh! The relief and release of the monthly moon cycle. Even though I dedicatedly keep track of it, it still manages to surprise me every single month! So I am blushing in my predictability with that last post; apparently the Kali-like premenstrual time is alive and well, even if I do feel a LOT more even-keeled with recent supplementation. But as I learn to embrace the ebbs and flows of this womanly rhythm of mine, I can also embrace this temporary ferocity as a gift. It gets me to the mic.

Moving through that, I can start checking items off the To Do, To Learn, and To Make lists.

A revelation that I had while in Mexico was: I like what I create with the sewing machine. I have a unique design style, and I like the way I incorporate thrifted clothing and their fabrics into new fun items. Right before our trip I discovered a bag that I made six years ago. I used parts of some corduroy pants, with a trim of vivid t-shirt. The iron-on patches had since come unglued and lost their relevance, but, damn, if that is still not a stylin', excellently useful bag! It was my favorite the whole month we were away. And our tiny friend Stella sported a couple of my originals while visiting us down there. Sharp clothes, if I do say so myself.

Complementing that revelation, I discovered a blog by a kindred spirit of mine up in Canada, that is so entertaining and inspiring to me in the creative department! The author of While Tangerine Dreams is a dirt-loving, Waldorf-inspired homeschooling mama who raises chickens and and milks a cow, spins (ridiculously scrumptious) yarn and designs fashion from her strawbale home! If that isn't a whole list of activities near and dear to my heart, she also writes with a fresh humor that keeps me coming back. So thanks, Kathy, for adding some wind to my crafty sails!

I feel a little sheepish telling you we are traveling again so soon - to Oregon to visit Stella and her family. We had a window of opportunity and we took it. So I felt the creative urgency to make Anjali some wool pants to weather the rain! Ahh! The rush of a sewing deadline! The only excuse I have to survive and thrive for a day on nothing but coffee and raw milk lattes. Ha!

Anjali likes the pants so well that she wouldn't let me take them off after the first fitting, and wore them for naptime. Which actually gave me the time to do everything *else* I needed to before leaving this evening! I used a pair of knit tights-pants as a loose guide to the sizing, and a felted merino wool sweater in my fabric pile just happened to have perfectly-sized sleeves. So I just had to fit them together, adding gusseted crotch, and a few patch-pockets for flare. Considering I always tend to fly by the seat of my pants when sewing, there were complications (once I'd committed to using the brown sweater and cut off one sleeve, I realized the other sleeve had been used for a previous project and had a sizable piece missing from it. Heh heh. Add a another patch to the list. If unique use of fabrics is my forte, that's my main critique of my sewing: that my projects are often jury-rigged because of the last-minute nature of my motivation. Perhaps the trade-off for a Tiffanie-made creation these days..) BUT I made it in time! A pair of wool tights my girl has for our rainy trip!

The only shot I have of them is a fuzzy, midriff-bearing shot, but yummy nonetheless.

The top heart patch has a slit pocket! A must for this girl: "One-two pockets!"

The second photo is of a beginning of a checking-off of the To Make and To Learn lists: creating labels en Espanol of every household item we can! I wrote the words, and then my assistant added embellishment and tape.

Manic days like this are the ones where I squeeze in a short but still existent jog, *and* manage to sweep the bulk of the cat hair and crumbs out of sight before we woosh out the door!

Oooo! (James Brown-style)

Feels good!

A vent, A rant, A story (if there's time for all of them)

another self-portrait study: what does vital *look* like?

Yikes! That cuddly honeymoon phase of returning home lasted exactly one day ~ until my sweetie went back to work. Then came the again realization: what the fuck is it that I do here in this house when Sealion is at work? Thankfully, so thankfully, I let that anger-tinged question roil up in me until I reached an epiphany last summer. My Wake-Up Call. That this isolation inside a house in a city most days of the year isn't what I want. I'm bored. I'm lonely. And there is so much more.

For me, it didn't mean that I wanted to go back to work. A Career has never been a goal or motivation of mine (and I'm so sorry to Gemini Cricket who had to live alongside that struggle ~ the figuring-out time**); Making a Life has always been. But, as the book Radical Homemakers forcefully chronicles, the last century's manufacturers of gadgets and Convenience with their powerful advertisements relegated a life at home to "women's work," then made it obsolete and mind-numbing. Not to mention the insular existence of the very-recent phenomenon of the nuclear family.

I do believe that anywhere you are, you can choose to be happy. And I do (and of course can never forget how much I have to be grateful for). But last summer I felt as if I had gone to sleep at the wheel ~ resting in comfort, becoming complacent. At best, I often felt I "pretended at" being productive; at the worst, I slipped into watery depression that (quietly) lasted on and off for months at a time.

In the (beautifully Kali-like) volatile days of my monthly cycle last summer, I ranted and raged. About how I wanted a life in which I felt truly engaged and necessary. I wanted my body to work at tasks that had meaning. I didn't want to merely find hobbies to occupy my time between strolls to the farmers' markets. I wanted Nature to be an everyday part of my life, and not just an occasional tourist destination. I wanted to feel vital ~ I wanted to Be Vital. More than once I woke up halfway believing that I might pack a bag, buy a plane ticket, and transport myself and my daughter to rural Mexico that day if that's what it took to regain a feeling of sanity. Luckily some of my raging registered and resonated with my husband. In the Fall, we set in motion the chain of events that is getting us to that plot of permaculture-to-be in Baja Sur in .. relatively super-quick time.

So today, I know we have that goal in mind. I have a To Do list, a To Learn list, and a To Make list that are all focused on it. . . And then there's the Everyday between there and Now ~ when I still live in an urban house that is insulated from the breeze and closed off from the sun. Where (many of) my neighbors don't care to know me, and my daughter must cross busy intersections before she finds a field in which she can romp. I shall go ahead and choose to be happy. I will play, sing, dance, create, and seek out Nature with my daughter. I'll make lots of good food. I'll take care of my husband as my part of the loving and mutual partnership we have, and seek connection with him and with my loved ones as best I can.

I'll prioritize gratitude.

And I think I'll make a calendar so I can draw red lines through each little square until we are on that farm in Baja again for good.

**Upon reading this entry later in the day, I realized that I needn't apologize to Gemini Cricket; I really was doing my best at the time, as was he. What I can do instead is send gratitude to him for his faithful friendship ~ for being a sounding board, and seeing me through what was a time of growth for both of us. Today he sent me a note saying that he didn't feel like an apology is necessary or appropriate. Point well taken. That's what real friends are for, huh.

(And: the story I had in mind ~ about the vulture in my new heading photo ~ will have to wait till another naptime.)

Back in Sac

Enjoying snuggling up in a cozy-warm house as it rains, rains, chilly rains outside. Such a stark contrast to our month in the desert-on-ocean in Baja Sur, that I'm smiling out from under the quilt as I readjust to American life ~ saying "thank you" instead of "gracias," putting poo-poo toilet paper in the toilet as opposed to the wastebasket, and all that kinda thing. Gratefully gulping creamy raw milk all the while! During naptime I am busy scrolling through and sorting pages of photos, compiling albums of the different facets of a lovely trip full of beauty, varying weather, learning, learning, learning, and abundant fun times with loved ones. I look forward to sharing with you in the coming days. Yay!

An Appearance

Much less access to Internet than I expected, but wanted to send a token "hola!"
This photo represents well.

Anticipation

(and further testing my email-an-entry capabilities...)

What's Goin' On

(I love love that Marvin Gaye song, by the way.)

I usually edit anything I write to a truly neurotic extent, but I wanna get this out there. So you can overlook my errors or not, as some of the millions in the blogosphere.

kissy face texted to my sweetie after another great run on Super Bowl Sunday.

A love letter to myself from myself ~ the best kind.

What have I been up to lately? Why haven't I been writing? Is everything ok??

In the almost six-year history of this blog, the silences speak as much (and sometimes more) than the entries. Climbing in to my hobbit hole-turtle shell for healing, resting, processing, evolving, re-grouping. As much as I would like to Represent publicly and Out Loud, I do a mighty portion of my Tiffanie-ing solo, solitarily ~ or as solitary as it gets with that happy tiny companion most-always around. Sans microphone. And I learned during my career as a creative writing student that living to write about it later ... sucks. I oftentimes hear the little narrator in my head waxing poetic as I live my life (I am a writer), but ~ similarly to a photographer ~ I think it is absolutely essential to live first, talk or photo second. If at all. So as much as I do love telling the story, I tell the little narrator to knock it off lots of times. (I remember a tandem bikeride years ago with that quickminded poet, Gemini Cricket, where we were chugging up a strenuous hill and he puffed, "If you got enough air to talk that much, you ain't pedalin' hard enough!" HAHAHAHA!!!)

What have I been doing if not writing here?

I've been re-grouping. Lately, as much as I cherish this blog space, I have been lost as to what its purpose is. What's my focus? Why am I writing? Who am I writing to? This has left me speechless.

I've been catching up on the private blog I keep to share with extended family (and close friends) about our family life ~ in an attempt to help it meet my needs more, to help its source be joy, and not feel like a chore. Cuz I ain't gettin paid.

I've been cooking! There has been a true renaissance in my kitchen upon moving from Berkeley to Sacramento. A large part of moving away from our beloved Bay Area was precisely about removing the safety net ~ making things a little more difficult so that we'd actually do stuff for ourselves. In that way, the move has been hugely successful. We still enjoy eating out, but: there are a lot fewer high quality restaurants here than in the Bay. There are some great ones I'd love to give a shout-out to (mainly our now-favorite Magpie ~ WE LOVE YOU!). More than any Bay Area loyalist would want to believe, for sure (there is quite the stigma against Sac in the Bay Area ~ or any place outside the Bay Area, for that matter!). And, of course, Three Stone Hearth and its perfectly-nutritious take-home food (sauerkraut, bone broth, grassfed meat patties, um ~ everything but the salad...) is only in Berkeley. So I'm finally forced to useall the skills and know-how I went to Berkeley to learn in the first place! I have sprouted my own spelt flour, hand-ground grain to make my own sourdough every week for a month now, all sorts of veggie ferments (successful and gross alike!), made gallons of bone broth, soups and stews, created nutritious snacks my toddler eats again and again, started a now-habit of creativity with breakfasts (a main, solid family meal for us, not just a light snack), my own deliciously decadent chocolate Valentine's candies, and, well ~ it's been fruitful and immensely fun. I work on a kitchen project of some sort most every afternoon. And have help from an eager sous-chef. ;-)

Making Valentine candy hearts ~ a little girl version, and then a spicy-decadent big-person version!

I'm falling in love with running all over again! Without shoes. As in, totally barefoot. I had seen the "minimalist" shoes and thought they made enough sense that I bought a pair when my standards were ready to be replaced. But at the shoestore, I had the good fortune of being fitted by a man who's been running "barefoot" for years. He recommended I read Christopher McDougall's book, Born to Run. I've only read one other book about sports ~ Lance Armstrong's It's Not About the Bike; it's just not my genre (honestly I mainly read informative non-fiction ~ don't judge me..). I devoured it on my phone over Christmas vacation, even sneaking in a page or two during bathroom breaks! Not only did I love the story, I loved the theory: that we humans evolved to run easily over long distances for the duration of our lives.

This idea jives with so much of my approach to life ~ that the way people lived generations ago was much healthier, happier, and more sustainable ~ that I had to try to apply it. And obsessively research about it as I've done with everything else I've incorporated, from nutrition and cooking to babycare, and now permaculture.

More than compelling research and theory, what keeps me suiting up and heading out the door is how good it feels. When I run with just the soles of my feet on the ground, I immediately run with the "proper" form, because that's the way that doesn't hurt. My pace quickens and my breathing comes into a thrilling alignment. Almost instantaneously, I fall into the mindframe which tells me I could run all day (or at least a couple hours) ~ a way-of-being that only happened occasionally, and after several miles' warm up when I ran regularly with cushy shoes. In other words, I don't feel like I'm working or exercising; I feel like I'm playing. In the moment, childlike game-play. As weird and goofy and California-fruity-fringy as it seems, I wouldn't keep trying it if I didn't have so much damn fun! And the next most amazing part, is that my body feels excellent doing it. Even though I haven't had a regular running practice in years. When I ran regularly in years past, joint and back soreness were just a fact I put up with for a worthwhile workout. The first week that I ran with minimalist shoes, my calves were so sore (because of the different technique involved), I looked pretty silly trying to get around for the rest of the day. That only took a week to move through. The pad of the ball of my foot is still tender and sore after running with totally bare feet. But this is getting better by the day. The rest of my body ~ my joints and back? They have never felt soreness running this way, even though it is so much different than the way I have run since I started in college. In the morning, when I usually would roll out of bed feeling creaky in my back and hips, I feel lubricated and refreshed. I'm up to running about four miles now ~ about half with minimal shoes, and half with no shoes at all. It has quickly become an activity I attempt to squeeze in, if just a short run, every day. In the past I have marveled at and been so grateful for my legs in their ability to run far over and over again. Now I have an all-new awareness of ~ quite an infatuation with ~ my feet; such capable creations they are! Thank you, feet! I love you!

My amazing feet ~ after my first-ever run without shoes.

My daughter is a two-plus year old. Wow. We're navigating the changing, blossoming, challenging course day-by-day. She is becoming more and more independently her own person by the moment. I love who she is! And find being her mommy to be even more an exercise in mindfulness and compassion (for both of us) than ever. Emotions and tempers rise. We still enjoy nursing and sharing the family bed together. Those activities provide such nurturance and stability for both of us. They give us a resting place to return to when toddler times get momentarily tough. And we are finding other big girl ways to connect too. Cooking and art. Humor and silliness and light-heartedness. I am grateful for forgiveness and being ok with getting things wrong. At the end of the day, she's still awesome Anjali, and I'm still her Mommy. Thank goodness!

I have had a whole lot more energy lately, if you can't tell from reading. I believe it is largely due to food-based supplements I've implemented. I wake up with a lot more drive and motivation, and feel a lot more accomplished at the end of the day.

What else have I been spending time on recently instead of blogging?

I've been taking an online Spanish course, called Rocket, daily. When I studied language in school, it was French. I am quite a Francophile to this day (thanks in large part, I'm sure, to my high school teacher, Madame Smith!), carrying the fantasy-hope of someday living (eating and cooking) in Southern France. I majored in French for a semester or so in college (I think..?), and got to where I dreamt in French ~ even cursed aloud in French as I slept (HA!). So whenever I go to speak Español, French invariably comes out. Time to get past los colores andlos numeros. I know that there's no way to study language like immersion; every time I go to Baja, the words I pick up while there I do not forget. But this online course helps ~ if anything, just to keep it fresh and ongoing in my mind. And as much English as most Baja natives know and are generous with in conversation, I feel much more respectful of them trying to speak their language. My background in French helps a lot when reading Spanish. But listening to Spanish speakers and deciphering it is still hard. I feel as if I have a long way to go! But a journey is a step at a time, right?

So, speaking of Español, we leave for Baja in two days! This time, we are going to be spending a whole month there ~ mostly camping on the property. What property, you ask? I have not done a good job of keeping you up-to-date. Along with all the above explanations, the reason I think is because the story just feels too big to me to describe ~ or maybe somewhere in my heart I believe that if I tell you about it, it'll end up not true (hmMmm. some truth there I hadn't considered!).

Self-portrait check-in ~ "do I look as if I'm on the cusp of a major life-adventure?!"

We were invited to buy into a 16-acre piece of property in La Ribera, Baja California Sur, Mexico. The owners include the wonderful Miles and Woo, and a few others who are part of a Buddhist community who attend a 3,000-acre retreat center within a half hour of La Ribera. The property is zoned mostly agricultural, is mostly flat with a hike uphill towards the back, and is grown up with all manner of spiky prickly things, at the entrance to a tiny community that is situated on the coast of of the Gulf of California/Sea of Cortez.

Miles with the now-productive papaya and banana grove, dome shed structure in the distant background.

Below, a sunset view from the top of the property~ horizon being the sea.

The agreement within the group of owners is that the property be developed and cultivated adhering as closely as possible to permaculture principles. Designs were drawn years ago, as detailed as to include the hundreds of species of plants to create a food forest. What we plan to do while we are there this month is to set up a base-camp so that when we and others go down to work, there will be easy shade, shelter, water and electricity, and composter toilet already there. That way we can maximize our time to work. We plan to visit for at least a week every other month, and then in November: build an earthbag dome (with a crew of helpers ~ wanna volunteer??) with the potential of setting up semi-permanent residence! Troy is still exploring the work options he has available to spend as much time as possible living in Baja, and most likely working in the US. He is discovering more and more that the American Dream is not his, and that working as a farmer to create a sustainable tropical paradise is. I'm beside-myself excited, and also feeling like it hasn't really sunk in, that very soon I'll be doing exactly what I have dreamed of for years! It just took this long to get all the pieces of the puzzle in view and in play. The stars have aligned.

All that being said, I'm pleased that I have been mindful in our daily life here in Sacramento, so as not to throw the baby out with the bathwater, so to speak. So many times in the past as I have had a distinct goal in mind, the present circumstances felt insufferable. That hasn't been the case; though we are clearly not in love with Sacramento and our current situation, it still rocks! And though I'm so psyched for what's to come, I don't actually live in the future; I live now. And now is .. what is. Gotta love it! My day-to-day life with my daughter has felt sweet and solid. Routine and uneventful in the best, grounding kind of way.

Every-day special: a homemade picnic at the park on a recent warm day.

Ok~here we go!

¡Hasta la próxima vez!

Coming back to gratitude

Oh. Feeling overwhelmed today. Our government continues to disappoint me with seemingly every decision. My daughter sometimes acts "like a two-year-old." My husband is sometimes grumpy. And I might just be experiencing a twinge of weepy PMS (hello monthly rhythm!)...

So I'm re-membering to come back to gratitude.
I recently bought a few books for Anjali from my beloved Zen teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh. I think she likes them - soothing water color illustrations, and calming messages; I probably benefit more than she does from our reading them (what toddler needs to be reminded to be present?? I dare say not one!). And the main message it always comes back to: breathing rocks! As in: I love being alive on this planet in the here and now! Realizing my breath, I come back to the ultimate gratitude: I am alive. Right now, I am alive. Right Now. I Am Alive. I know there is incredible suffering in the world and that my life has been extremely lucky, but my most dire times taught me perhaps more than the cheery ones: I like living. And here and now is what I have. Pain reminds me that I have feelings. Having feelings reminds me that I'm alive. And I like living.
Scott Noelle (at right, under "so grateful for") suggests playing a game to bring ourselves back to present awareness, and out of pain from the past or anxiety of the future. It's called "The Now Game." So I'll play that:
Right Now,
I feel my daughter nursing.
I feel her body breathing in and out next to mine.
I hear a little whistle as her nose exhales.
I hear cars passing occasionally.
I hear someone emptying trash.
I hear our upstairs neighbor's washer churning.
I see my phone in my hands.
I see bright sunlight streaming in the window!
I see the houseplant leaves illuminated with stripes from the window blinds.
I see the orange tree across the street, loaded with fruit, rustling in the wind.
I see the aluminum foil "twinkle stars" Anjali and I made for her birthday still decorating the door frame.
I feel my eyelashes lightly crusted with tears.
I feel my heart lightened from the weight I felt when I started this post.
I feel sincere gratitude for the Now that is upon me.

I breathe a sigh of release.

Ahhhh! Ain't life a Grand Adventure? Remembering that all I have is Now, and that I can choose how I experience things (haha; my phone auto-corrected to say "thugs"!) helps me tremendously.

And Now, I will Gratefully leave this phone, and Really step into the present!

Sunny Day

Perhaps my favorite...

"Perhaps my favorite...vacationy-type experience in Baja Sur"...

I had so much fun writing this as a reply to a question that Woo asked ~ of our recent "reconnoitering" trip to Baja which included much chill time with Arlene and Brian (and a brief but welcome cameo by Miles in the very beginning) ~ that I felt like sharing it here. We stayed in a couple of yurts in Buena Vista for a few days, then headed to Cabo Pulmo ~ at the end of a long, windy, bumpy dirt road, and a large tract of wildlife preserve, it's a village that includes a neighborhood of sweet rental casitas and a handful of rustic restaurants and one tiny mercado/tourist shop. Local population of about 300, Cabo Pulmo mainly attracts scuba divers as visitors. Our little casita was a few minutes' walk to the stone-and-sand beach and aqua blue Sea of Cortez.

Was the second evening we stayed at Cabo Pulmo, we walked through a (well-travelled) little hole in the fence next door to "Nancy’s" restaurant. On a bare-dirt farmish piece of property, it is a classic old-looking building with arched windows and thick thick stone walls, largely open-air, with a couple fireplaces. For the last couple days, I had noticed a paper plate clothespinned to the gate, which said in handwritten English "For Pizza and cinnamon rolls come to Nancy's house." (I was intrigued by having homemade cinnamon rolls at Nancy's house, but no one else wanted to take her up on it with me.. I suspected the place might not be open when we approached, thanks to those paper plate signs..) We found the whole place lit only by candles, and totally empty, save the cook in the (totally open) kitchen, Nancy (I assume)~ a friendly white woman with shoulder-length white hair probably in her 60's ~ and her adult daughter who were snuggled by the fire with their hands wrapped around warm mugs and their sandaled feet propped up on the hearth, talking intimately. Nancy greeted us warmly and turned back to her conversation. The cook lit the stove and switched on his tiny quiet radio, and handed us the menu ~ handwritten on a small notepad. We ordered and he got to work cooking us three different entrees with sides all by himself. Anjali dropped off to sleep in my lap and provided me with some nice relaxed adult time. The wind (it was very windy) howled outside, but inside these walls ~ which didn't even have glassed windows ~ it was cozy. The low light and quiet already present made it so that we felt like whispering too. The meal was warm and fresh and satisfying ~ veggies and fish, with a basket of piping hot tortillas nestled in a napkin. For dessert he flambeed bananas in cinnamoned rum for us. Wow. As we licked our forks, the cook was cleaning the last of the dishes, and Nancy and daughter were putting their jackets on to head to the house. The meal was definitely priced for gringos ~ but still not as expensive as the Bay Area places we love. I couldn't help but think that our dinner was the only one cooked that night, and that I was glad to pay for such a rich experience.

(oh geez how i hate the technical aspects of blogger that i don't know how to control!)