jane's apron

some things never change, but some do

This picture says so much about me and about how I do things.  It seems very staged.  But it's not and that's why it's so funny to me.

We had just finished the basement space and I had moved my crafting stuff into the room.  At the same time, I was sewing curtains for the newly repainted kitchen.  I pulled out the sewing machine, sat it on top of a vintage suitcase from my stash, and pulled up the nearest chair.  A tiny chair built for a 3 year-old.  But I only needed to sew little hems on a few pieces of small fabric.  I would be done in just a few minutes.  And then it hit me.  This is how a crazy person sews.  When I shared the pic on instagram, by sister commented that she wished she had a straight jacket emoji. 

Some things will never change for me.  My crafting will always be impromptu.  I still love sharing what I make and what I find but it is just not that easy to share from a blog.  The instantaneous sharing from phone to picture to instagram is a perfect fit for me (at least for now).   I'm a visual learner and obviously a visual sharer.  

I found an easy way to keep my blog archives without the pesky annual fee and schlepped most of my posts to WordPress.  Of course, I love the picture-centered theme I chose and, if you've stopped by here, please visit me there and say hey.   I have no plans to post to the new space but plans change (sometimes in an instant). ♥

 

relentless winnowing

Relentless winnowing.  It's a term one of my oldest blog friends used recently and it put words to the state that I've been in over the last several years.  I've moved my mother-in-law to our house (severe winnowing), moved my mom to her new house (more winnowing), and am now clearing out my mom's house (still winnowing).  All of this has made me even more vigilant about my own house.  If I use it, it's staying.  If I love it, it's staying.  If it brings me some sort of happiness; it's staying.  All the rest (the someday piles, the "but it was only $6" items, the furniture that just can't seem to find its place) are quickly making their way to new homes.  

To her credit, I got up my nerve from this post from tiff at dottie angel.  It's really hard to let go of things I've made, things my mom made.  But letting go makes space for new ideas and new creative adventures.  And moving what remained of my crafty piles out of their squirreled-away places and into my soon-to-be creative space has opened up all kinds of space around my home.  Deep sigh of happiness.  

To her credit again, I am getting up my nerve to let go of my blog from this post.  Not today.  Not tomorrow. But sometime soon.  Sometime before my blog starts its 10th year.  More relentless winnowing.

The paintbrushes?  Those are from my mom and dad.  Beautiful and well-cared for.  I love them and they make me happy.  

 

 

changing colors

OK, that's a lot of pictures so I'll keep the words short...

• I'm slowly taking the color off our walls and making my house a little more calm (color-wise at least)
• I switched out the bright sunflower yellow for a pretty grey (dolphin fin) in the kitchen.  
• Grey doesn't mean colorless.  All shades of green are all mixed with pale yellow and gold.
• I still want to add simple curtain tops and art work.  But I'll get there. 
• Tudor houses don't have to be dark and serious and it's ok to paint the woodwork.
• I was taking these pictures yesterday while everyone else in the house kept putting stuff in my shots...flooring pieces, tools, lunch...pulling out the dishwasher because it stopped working.  
• Like this...

young tudor

The house-changing frenzy that I was feeling this summer has slowed to a crawl.  A super slow mo crawl.  To refresh, we had all of our floors refinished this summer.  Which made it easy to re-think my spaces and to look critically on what I wanted to keep...as in no mercy.   

I've been turning by eyes toward the "young tudor" look that is popping up everywhere.  I've changed our computer room with pretty gray walls, artwork I love, and a thrifted bulletin board redo (and, even better, I got the ugly computer monitor moved out of that room so it really needs a new name).  I painted every inch of my back hallway a pretty and fresh white (dark tudor woodwork is now singing a happy tune) and a gallery space for artwork is on my next-up list.

I also looked critically at my living room and removed (almost) everything that was granny chic.  The empty china cabinet was patiently waiting for a change.  Paint? Wallpaper? Wallpaper! Me, the girl that put the idea of wallpaper into the "never again" pile.  I found this paper at Lowe's.  It is kind of textured and thick and I almost didn't buy it.  But I reminded myself that I had nothing to lose but $30 on a roll of paper I might hate.  

I'm good at measuring, cutting, and matching paper and the back of the china cabinet was very forgiving because I could tuck extra paper in the space between the cabinet and the back panel. Start-to-finish was less than an hour and I don't think I cussed even once.  And it's pretty.  And young. 

this crazy north county life

We didn't mindfully move to an integrated neighborhood.  We just moved to St. Louis (back home for me) from Detroit and wanted to live in neighborhood like Royal Oak.  But now, 23 years, 2 houses only miles apart, and 3 kids later, I wouldn't live anywhere else.  

We live in one of the many tiny towns that make up North St. Louis County and live less than a mile from Ferguson Missouri.  We eat, shop, and gather there.  Our kids played in leagues there...too many games to count.  We ride our bikes from our house to get ice cream there.  Every Sunday morning, one of my boys drives his grandma to church there.  My Mom lives there.  

Why?  We all know each other and care about each other.  My kids have grown up in a real place; sheltered in some ways (what are granite counter tops?) and exposed to some harsh realities at the same time.  They've never lived anywhere else and they are not really all that aware of race.  Just like the kids in my class when we study the Civil Rights Movement, they are like "Really? That happened?  Schools were segregated?  That is sooo weird".  

So my point?  Ferguson is an integrated city; probably one of the most integrated in the country.  We live here.  We love it.  We can't be routinely ignored by the rest of St. Louis.  We can't let our schools fail one- by-one and be ignored by our state.  We know how to help each other but we could use some support...that whole "it takes a village" thing. 

In our meetings before the start of school, we talked about a book called "Riding the Dragon" (do not look up that term on urban dictionary; trust me).  The idea is that you don't hide your dragons or fears but face them head-on...you ride the dragon.  I keep saying I'm "riding the dragon" (in the same voice as Donkey when he tells Shrek "I'm lookin' down").  Some dragon riding from the last few weeks:

• Ross and I walked to the NAACP gathering at a church by our house.  He recorded snap chats (or whatever kids are doing these days) and loved giving directions to people that were lost.
• I went to my Aldi and Target only to discover that is was the command center for all the press and police activity.  Nobody stopped me so I went to both stores.  They guy ahead of me in line paid part of the bill for the family in front of him that was a little short on cash.
• I didn't watch any of our local news reports because I knew it would infuriate me; now I'm a fan of Chris Hayes because that guy landed in the middle of Ferguson, asked all the right questions, and got to the heart of the issue.
• My mom loves Ferguson and her neighbors but is (reluctantly) moving closer to us.  In what could be perceived as bad timing, she listed her house for sale on the day that looting took place about a mile from her house.  She had two excellent offers on the house and accepted one last week.

We live here.  And we love it.  

clean slate

Whenever I'm away from my house for a while, I always think of things I want to change/fix/buy when I get back home.  Combine those thoughts with reading "The Nesting Place" in the car and refinishing all of the floors in my house and I have the perfect storm of change.  

We've moved everything from neary every room and piled it into three rooms.  It's like hoarders but more stressful; I have to climb and walk on furniture to get into bed. 

But the open space lets me see things with new eyes and the time crunch inspired me to paint the study and the back hallway.  See all that pretty light in the back hallway?  It was all dark wood trim and too-shiny orange walls yesterday morning.  Now I'm thinking it will be a gallery space; a place for artwork and other pretty things.

midsummer

That midsummer panic hit me this week.  It's predictable at this point and something I'm sure every teacher experiences.  Yes, I still have a lot on my summer todo list but, when I really think about it, the little stuff sometimes adds up.  For one, I added hooks to the vintage sign on our back porch (the vintage hooks from my mother-in-law's house that I soaked in paint thinner then neglectedly let get really rusty; nothing a little clear sealer couldn't fix).  No one has poked their eye out (an irrational fear that my husband has about anything hanging at eye-level) and, even better, there's not as much junk on the kitchen floor.  

I've also done some random acts of painting (vingage stool, wooden accent table, front hallway and ceiling) and some sporadic crafting (including my own sewing "kits" so I'm ready to go when I have time).  I also want to get all of the cool artwork that my kids have made out of the drawers and into our living space.  But I've got the rest of the summer for that, right?

salve regina

• In the weeks before my dad died, he talked several times about how everyone was waiting for him in the yard.  It is no surprise to any of us that my dad's version of heaven was a beautiful green lawn.  
• I feel incredibly thankful that my mom, my three sisters, and I were with my dad on his last day.  In true Irish form, we laughed as much as we cried.
• My dad died peacefully at dusk on a beautiful Earth Day.
• The Sisters that had cared for my dad all gathered around his bed and sang Salve Regina.  It was selfless and tear-filled and beautiful.  
• My oldest sister Mary performed random acts of kindness the next day in honor of my dad. The kindness my family received in memory of my dad was more than I could have ever imagined.
• I returned to school the next day and had a stack of handwritten notes from my students; three of the boys had also lost their dads and their words of comfort and encouragement were wise beyond their years. 
• On the day of my dad's funeral, we rememberd him well, held his stack of prayer cards, drank a Guiness or two, and walked back and forth across the green lawns from my sister's house to mine. 

my trunk

Yes, I've shared lots of pictures of my living room here.  When the light comes in at the end of the day I just can't resist trying to capture it.  But this time I am writing about my trunk.

It's from my dad's family (nothing with a family history or anything...just discarded trunks from my grandpa's time as a night watchmen at a charity hospital in the 1930s).  My mom painted this for me when I was in high school.  It traveled with me to college, to my first job in Detroit, and back to St. Louis.  I used it as a night stand for all of those years and finally moved it to my living room a few years ago.  I am not a "blue" girl and this may be the only blue thing I have in my house.  But I love it and it was made just for me.  

family jade plant

I've never been a fan of house plants; like they were something from the 70s that just didn't fit in my house or with my neglectful nature.  I think I'm changing my mind and it's probably related to my Aldi orchid from last year that rebloomed last week.  How did that happen?  I tried to give her 3 ice cubes a week but am sure I wasn't perfect.  Maybe it's all about location.  So now that I'm all "look at me" with my orchid, I've branched out a bit.  I snagged a few stems of a jade plant from my sister.  

It's not just any jade plant.  It's a jade that has been propagated from my Aunt Faye since before I was born.  The original plant is such a legend that she has a name.  She is Mitzico (and this from a family that doesn't name anything inanimate).  My new little stem is tiny.  Tea cup tiny.  I hope she is as happy here as my orchid.