croque-choux

Odd dream

I had the strangest dream this morning. I dream a lot anyway, but especially when I'm sleeping off a migraine. Maybe it's the medication, I don't know. Anyway, I dreamt that I was able to go back in time a few years to when my kids were a little smaller. There was some kind of spell attached to this though: if I spoke to them I would return to the Present. I was so amazed to see my kids little again- My son was playing while I hugged my daughter tight, and I was so surprised that she was just the right size for me to rest my chin on top of her blond head once again, that I said "...Oh!" because of the wonder of it all. And then I realized that I had broken the spell and "oh!" became "oh noooo!", as I felt myself getting sucked back into the Present and I just had time enough to cry out to them "Stay little!". Then I was Here again. Then I woke up. This felt kind of sad afterwards, but later on I thought: my kids are still kids (15 and 6 1/2)- whew! So, I just want to tell you that kids grow up so fast, so you should enjoy every minute of their "littleness", even the icky stuff like changing diapers and wiping noses :o)

nb: image made with a little help from typogenerator.

Sad.

No post today.
Just 1 minute of silence now.

Fashion to the rescue

You'll find hip fashions for your honey here, and at the same time help the downtrodden. For real.
I promise that I will post something happy-go-lucky and frivolous tomorrow, really I will, but this is important. KIP by Dalits. Knowledge is Power. Spread the word.
(PS: the press cuttings on their site are not for the faint of heart, and they are very sad. Apartheid is not gone, it's got another ugly face in a different place...)

This happens to me. A lot.

"esprit d'escalier" (e-SPREE des-kal-i-YE) noun, also esprit de l'escalier

Thinking of a witty remark too late; hindsight wit or afterwit.
Also such a remark.

[From French esprit de l'escalier, from esprit (wit) + escalier (stairs).]

"We're all witty. It's just that many of us think of our clever remarks a bit too late. The French call it the staircase wit, indicating that one thought of that perfect retort on his or her way out."

Thank heavens for a.word.a.day. otherwise I never would have known there was a word for this! Proof that even after living in France for 21 years, I can still stumble upon a French expression that is totally news to me.

Mr. Nibble saves the day

Well Thursday was officially over just minutes ago in my time zone, so now I can write about it. I had a BIG disappointment today because I found out that the web design training course I signed up for at a nearby university has been cancelled. Not enough people signed up for it this year- there were only 6 of us. (The strict minimum was 8, and the max was 20.) This sucks for lots of reasons, but mainly because I have been PLANNING on this for months and months and because I actually had the funding for this damn class. Oh well. Now I'll have to hatch a new plan for my future. Which leads me to this proverb, that I find very fitting for Easter: "Never put all your freakin' eggs in one basket". But my mother was fond of saying "Everthing happens for a reason", and I really believe this. Well, once the dust clears from the scaffolding that just fell down, I'll start looking for Plan B.
That was the bad stuff. Let's see what good things happened Thursday... I did the school mommy thing and went with my son's class to the swimming pool. The mothers who go along don't go in the pool of course, they're there to help out, keep the little devils in line, and make sure that everyone goes home in their own undies. Those little kids were so cute. And two little girls argued over who would get to sit next to me, Miles' mommy, on the school bus. Awwwwww... They asked me to tell them how to say things in English and we chatted during the whole ride. 6 year olds can be very chatty, especially girls.
And in my mailbox today (saved this for last), was the Mr. Croquechou book I bought on eBay! Just in time for Easter! When I saw the title of this book, I knew I just had to have it and it was only 1 Euro. This book was published here in 1969, but I think it's English originally. I found out that it's from the Blackberry Farm series by Jane Pilgrim, and that Mr. Croquechou's name in English is Mr. Nibbles. Sounds more like a cat's name to me, but anyway... So to get over Thursday's disappointment, I will be taking a tip from Mr. Croquechou (a.k.a. Mr. Nibbles) this weekend: I shall be found nursing myself with strong coffee in bed. Demain il fera jour...

This & That, and some fabric journal pages

The recent lack of posts relating to textile art is not only due to the fact that I've been tinkering with and upgrading my computer, but also because I'm upgrading the house with some storage space. This means that I'm adding some armoires around here and that my sewing/craft area has been temporarily redubbed the disaster area because of this. You never know how much stuff you actually have until you either move or decide to reorganize your closet space. So I haven't had any time to do anything crafty lately (sniff), but all this shuffling around of clothes, fabric, craft items, and photos did give me a chance to take out some of my recent projects and take stock of them.
The fabric book project and exchange is especially bothering me for a few different reasons. There were a lot of setbacks in this exchange, but the most frustrating thing was the number of dropouts that we experienced. I know this kind of thing can't be helped sometimes because life gets in the way at times, but sometimes... well, here is where I feel like ranting but I won't. All this has led me to think about these 2 pages, because these are "the ones that got away". I got back as many pages as I sent out, but I'm still trying to get over these two... I sent these out to my "swap buddy"- and never heard from them again. Not even a thank you, which really sucks! Throw away art. This probably is supposed to teach me some kind of lesson. I would tell you what the lesson was, but I'm still trying to figure that one out. The only thing this gave me a chance to do, was try my hand at making a little art doll- something I'd never done before. So maybe the lesson is hiding somewhere inside this little doll's beaded head.

Fabric stash revelation

This morning while I was choosing fabrics for a birthday postcard, I had a revelation. I guess my mind wanders a lot when I sew, but that's okay as long as it comes back. Anyway, after sewing 6 different fabrics onto this little 4 x 6 inch card, I thought about something the lady at the post office said. She asked me this a few times actually: "Where ever do you get all your fabrics from? Such variety..." And this morning it hit me- People do NOT normally have this much fabric at home. Normal people don't anyway, nor do they squirrel fabric away in boxes under the bed, in closets, and in the garage, etc. Anybody who quilts or sews can relate to this I'm sure. All those stories you hear about crazed quilters hiding fabric in the trunk of their cars so their husbands won't find out they've just been on another fabric binge? True.