Big Little Books

One of my favourite things about thrifting is the discovery of things I had or at least saw when I was little - something that, oddly enough, happens more frequently when I thrift in the region where I grew up than in the one where I live now.

These two Big Little books were a particularly nice find. I never had these two titles, and I couldn't tell you which ones I did, but just the sight of these chunky books with their comic book illustrations?


They brought me back to some quiet happy day in summer when I was smaller and no doubt wearing my much-loved orange shorts/yellow T ensemble with a kerchief over my hair, worrying about not very much at all.

Summer on a plate

I saw this plate in a thrift store a couple of weeks ago and even though it's pretty worn, I didn't think twice:


It kind of encapsulates my summer - the day trips and the thrifting, the family and the friends, but also Museum Week when I was alone for part of every day looking at very old, brightly painted ceramics and tea sets and thinking about how many generations of people have used colour and imagination to make ordinary functional items special.

I'm hoping that when I bring it out at Christmas with our traditional family meringues and shortbread on it, I'll remember these not-so-lazy days that made up a special part of this year.

I wonder what family traditions it was part of in its previous life?

Conundrum

Sunny days are the very best for housecleaning, because the sun is streaming in and spotlighting all the places that need attention. They are also the worst, for pretty much the same reason.

This is the same problem I had yesterday at an exhibit of set props and so on from the Harry Potter movies (no explanatory link needed, I think?) You know, with the costumes. I learned to sew in Home Economics class when I was about 12, and terrible as I was with the school machines, I recognized immediately the theatrical possibilities - because for more than half my life before that I'd been watching old movies on a mainstream TV station and period dramas on the public broadcasting one. I never got very good, but I did get very persistent at making over vintage clothes to fit me, and I wore them too.

My poor parents. There they were, having survived the Depression and the War and doing everything possible to give their children an education so they'd have a marketable skill and there I was wanting to find a way to sew or knit or write stories for a living.

Just as well I didn't argue though because I could see from those costumes that I don't have the spark that would have allowed me to compete for jobs with the likes of the people who made them.

There's one character whose name I forget but who wears a disheveled looking suit that makes me just want to hug him every scene he's in - and yes, it was pretty clear looking at the suit that it's made without any sort of interfacing, so the rough tweedy fabric has to give itself its own shape. And the formal dress outfit that Ron has to wear when Hermione has her date with someone much more dashing? Well, it's better than it looks on screen, and much cooler than the staid black and white that Harry wears, but you can see how the combination of fabrics and colours would make it an embarrassment when viewed through a camera. My favourite though was the Bloody Baron's costume - the fabric was nothing like anything I'd ever seen, and I can't even imagine how you'd sew it. Just the imagination required to source the materials for these outfits is beyond my comprehension.

Fortunately I don't feel as hopeless with words... and fortunately, words don't take up nearly as much storage space. Bad enough having to vacuum and clean on a sunny day without having to shift around a lot of sewing gear to do it.

Thinking and - about - vs - writing

Two weeks to go before my self-imposed start date to get back to the short story collection!

Even though today is perfect weather for knitting a fall cardigan (grey, soft-breezy, a little damp) I'm averting my eyes from such an idea and thinking about how that will work... which is to say, how many projects I have to get finished or hidden so I'm not drifting off to them instead once my tea is brewed on Day One.

And what to do if I do find I'm drifting, other than sit right back down again at the keyboard. Like, making a schedule for projects I really, really want to have done before Christmas and doling them out to myself as little rewards.

When writing goes well, it's the best thing in the world - Binnie described it to me recently as a kind of dream world where most of you is in the fiction and the rest just drifts through the house and daily life - and when it's not coming out at all, it's the hardest.

Harder even than not eating the remains of the fudge that got hidden in the back of the 'frig last week (yes, I ate the remains of the fudge.)

So: motivation. I'm a pretty accountable person and I do stick to deadlines which is why I set so many for myself, but it's tough to beat the motivation you get from a course. That's probably why along with the thinking, I'm remembering that this is the time of year when one applies for the Humber School for Writers correspondence course, so as to be sending off some work every week or two to a published, often award-winning or at least award-shortlisted writer for feedback and some direction.

Of course, delightful as this process is, it also requires a spare $3000 Cdn. So, you know, maybe I won't do it again this year. Or maybe I will use some of these last two weeks to figure out how I could.

Project ideas in the wild

I'm always getting project ideas, or at least questions, from visits to museums. This week it was the Simcoe County Museum, which includes not only an inside display but an outdoor collection of buildings and equipment (ranging in size from snow blower to train.) And in the buildings, of course, there were accessories.

Like this cute doll set from the 1922 cottage:


I took this pic for Kathi, who has a thing for paper dolls - it came out fuzzy, but you get the idea (mostly that these probably aren't paper dolls to dress up.)

But also, this interesting-to-me scrap carpet, whose pictures are also fuzzy, from an 1800s log cabin:


I've never seen one like it, and now I want to make one with my many felted sweater scraps.


This style is more common but now that I have rug-hooking tools I'm wondering - is it hooked, or woven, or sewn?


Here's a fuzzy closeup:


And here's a project I am definitely not getting ideas about - pillow tatting:


Even though the accessories are very, very pretty.


Because amazingly, I do have some sense of self-preservation.

Preparation

If I'm going to be writing this fall, I have to be sure all my procrastinations are as organized as they can be - otherwise, I'll waste valuable typing time looking around for materials instead of just making things. Which is why, today, I looked at this:


and decided to Do Something about it, with this:


Janie H. gave me this tin at the beginning of the summer and told me I had to use it for Stuff, and I am pretty sure embroidery thread counts. And those little white cards were packaging from something or other I used to buy a lot of - no idea what, even less idea why I kept them, unless it was some deep instinct that someday I would need a dozen or so little white cards that weren't index cards (index cards would also have done nicely, but these are a little firmer and also, pretty and shiny.)

See how pretty they look with satin embroidery thread on them?


I know, it's not much. But it's a start!

Sheets: they're not just for bedtime anymore

I get my best ideas from strangers. Like, last month? when I made a pitiful attempt at carting along a picnic to a municipal park?

There I was sitting at this really filthy ripped up picnic table wishing I'd brought plates or something so I didn't have to nibble my sandwich out of a bag, and across at the next table there were two clearly very sensible ladies enjoying a delicious lunch (packed in a basket no less) on a sheet. A big floaty flat sheet they'd brought along and thrown over the table by way of a tablecloth.

This, I thought was brilliant, and I started hunting for sheets at thrift stores because sadly I don't have any extra sheets to take out into the wilderness with me. And that's how I managed to go those ladies one better, with a fitted sheet:


I know, I know, you can buy a plastic tablecloth for a dollar just about anywhere. But can you throw it in the washer when you get home? Can you roll it up as a pillow if you want a post-lunch nap? Will it stay put instead of getting too friendly with the wind and folding itself up onto the potato salad? Ha. I didn't think so.

Yes, those are leaves on the table. I am getting freaked out about all these falling leaves. We're not even into the final third of August yet!

Oh, and today when I saw another very sensible lady taking a picture of a butterfly? I did the same thing with another butterfly I spotted a bit further off.


Hint: it's in the lower centre of the picture, resting on the second-shortest foreground flower. You'll probably still have trouble seeing it, but it's there, and so pretty.