Yesterday I took my spunky six-year-old to get photographed by a guy I've never met. Justin Hackworth is a photographer of some acclaim, I've come to find out...and he was kind enough to select me for his 30 Strangers project. Just like the project name, Justin takes photos of 30 people he's never met before. They are all mothers and daughters. Rather than pay for a sitting fee, they are asked to donate to a specific cause: The Center for Woman and Children in Crisis.
Miss A is my third daughter. I'm a third daughter. I thought it would be a nice way to spend an afternoon with her. She kept telling me she hoped it wasn't boring. I didn't think it would be, but I especially hoped that Justin was as genuine as his cause. I was not disappointed. When we arrived, we saw this.
Which made Miss A do this:
Here is what Justin did for us. This guy has talent. He's genuine to the core and definitely not boring. In fact, I think I'm going to have to stay in touch.
My six-year-old made an astute observation tonight as she was experimenting with the goofy glasses I got on a whim at a consignment store. She said as her eyes squeezed shut, "I know why blind people can't see."
When asked why, she firmly stated, "They just need to open their eyes."
Today I fell of the wagon...the workout wagon. I've been fighting a cold all week, but stubbornly getting up early and working out as hard as possible. Those germs got the better of me today and left me exhausted, listless, and with a voice like Kathleen Turner.
I'm sick. I can't work out. That makes me into a really cranky person. Just ask my family.
So, do I just succumb to the illness and sink into a stupor of malaise or do I fight it and make myself more sick.
For those of you asking, "What's a mixed tape?" I'll enlighten you. Back before there were iPods, there were these shiny plastic things called CD's that held music on them...and before that, everyone used plastic rectangles with black tape running from one spool to the next inside of them. Those things were called cassette tapes and, when they weren't melting on someone's dashboard, they were put inside something kind of like an iHome to play whatever you had previously recorded on them (sort of like a playlist on your iPod). Weird, right?
Recently I was cleaning out my basement and found a duffle bag full of mixed tapes I didn't have the heart to throw out. There were a few from high school friends and one or two from my sister, but most were from past boyfriends. They had titles like, Remember When, Missing You, Our Summer Songs, and Songs for a Girl Named Pam, and other cheesy lines like that.
While reminiscing about that bygone trend of throwing a bunch of similar, mostly unrelated, songs onto a tape, I realized something. Blogging is a lot like making a mixed tape. We put our ramblings onto this thing called the internet in hopes that someone, somewhere will read them. Since I have a whopping 40+ "followers" of my blog, I'm sure this post will be read by maybe two people. Then, it will be archived in the internet duffle bag where all mediocre blog posts go. Much like a mixed tape.
When we look back twenty years from now, we'll probably ask each other, "remember blogging?"
Here's one of the songs from my 80s mixed tape collection. I like the high-tech graphics in this video and the dog wearing sunglasses. I'm not sure what this girl is building either...a bomb? a double coffee pot? Feel free to pass it along or add it to your play list.
Today I guest blogged at my friend Evonne Sell's blog all about baby food. I don't think moms should waste their money on opening a jar for their babies. There are so many reasons to make your own baby food. I'm not interested in feeding my baby something out of a can/jar/box because:
It's prepackaged and therefore, not fresh.
Have you tasted the stuff?
There are no spices.
Soon enough, your kids will be complaining about your cooking and you'll be tempted to take off a la Nacho Libre to find a better "duty," so you might as well give your baby healthy foods they enjoy.
I have a tattered paperback version of this book from my childhood. I would read this book and imagine I was the older sister, losing my tooth on the beach in Maine. It wasn't an outlandish fantasy — I grew up in Maine. I can almost taste the salty air and hear the loon laughing when I read this book to my children. I fell in love with this book as a child and I love it even more now that I have kids.
This book always makes me cry a little. But, in a good way. I'm convinced, that if more people read this book and were as generous as this tree, there would be a lot more happiness.
I read this book when I was in grade school. It was fantastical and imaginative. It made such an impression on me that, to this day, I can still remember how fascinated I was while reading it. I want to read it again!
I love cashmere sweaters. They're perfect for spring and fall, even in winter when you want to be cozy, but you don't want a lot of layers.
I have slowly collected several colors of cashmere sweaters over the years. I have a problem with them, though. Because my house has very little storage room for off-season clothes, the moths sometimes find them and have a snack.
So, in order to keep my sweaters looking nice (not to mention saving the money I spent on them) I've had to learn how to repair those tiny holes in my favorite sweaters.
Here's what you'll need:
Scissors, thread to match the sweater, needle
Turn your sweater inside out.
Find the hole and thread your needle, tying a knot at the end of your thread.
Start at one end of the hole and go around the perimeter of the hole with your needle.
Cinch the thread tight enough to bring the hole closed most of the way.
Taking tiny stitches, sew the edges of the hole closed. You won't want to make big stitches because they're more likely to show on the outside of your sweater.
Once the hole is completely sewn, tie off the thread by looping your needle back through the stitches you've already made.
Voila! You're done.
The sweater, when turned right side out, will show what looks like a small blemish (can you see it in the photo?), but no one will notice. See?
