Super Fluff

Well, okay. As you continue to read (a few posts down) you'll notice that this picture and the ones that follow are supposed to be a part of Who needs a corner office? Well, Blogger didn't do my bidding (bastards!) so everything is slightly backwards.

This is what Ozark Handspun looks like before it is spun. B has been known to call it Muppet Afterbirth, but I think Super Fluff is a little more, um, consumable by the masses. 

Say Cheese!

 

I see you!

 

I just love this color combination

 

Natural Frame

 

Who needs a corner office?

It was 70 degrees today and, even though I had work to do, I couldn't be kept inside. So, I brought it outside. Yep, Louet, skeiner, loose wool mix, a stereo, some water, and I was set. The boys and I ate lunch outside and then they played and played while I spun for four hours on my deck. Well, of course, I did take a few breaks now and then to climb a tree and play soccer, but you get the idea.

This may become a habit.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen - certainly one of the most welcome sights, anyhow. I spent the better part of the day today thus far outside with the boys. They played and I hung laundry on the line. I took a little walk around the house and low and behold, I saw this gorgeousness:

CROCUS!!!

It's coming. Spring is coming. 

S&V

There is a wonderful artist who is local to Columbia named David Spears. This is one of his pieces. B & I spent so much time studying it and discussing before we finally came up with a color scheme together. He did all the work, though.

The frame on this came as 5 foot lengths of plain wood which he had to sand 3 times and stain 3 times with a special orange stain. The double mat is a new design - cool, eh?

This piece now hangs nicely in the home of K & L, which is also where The Man in Black hangs.

I'm so proud of B - he's amazing. 

Man in Black

This is the gift that B did for a friend of ours. It's huge and the photograph doesn't do it justice. It's a dark brown burned frame with a double mat - black with white core and gun metal with black core. It's HUGE and when it was still here at the house, I would stare at it for an hour at a time.

This amazes me about my husband. He can take 2 plain flat sheets of mat board (looks like posterboard but much thicker) and do a million and twelve math equations and end up with something like this. The frame? Started out in 5 foot lengths. More math. More vision. More cutting. He cuts the glass himself, too.

When it's all said and done, I don't know what is more art - the print or the mat and frame. 

boy pit

 

lucky boy

Most women I know would kill for these lashes. 

Night and Day

I went to bed last night still reeling from the birth a few days ago.  I don't know what happened at that birth, but something traumatic did and I am very clearly showing the signs of post traumatic stress disorder (um, yes, it does happen in the birth field and it's gnarly.)  I don't know what in the world happened, but it grabbed me and grabbed ahold of me hard.  It's going to take a long time to process. 

 

So, I slipped into bed early, grateful that DDFF is back home from Austin and can swing the client we have due in early March. While she is a lovely woman, attending another birth so soon didn't sound like something I'd be excited about.

 

11:38, the phone rings.  March Mama is in labor.

11:40, call DDFF.  How do you want to do this, partner?  I'll go, she says, but I have another client who's playing around with labor and she has x-y-z complications.  If she goes, I'll  need to call you and have you go to March Mama.

11:45, crawl back into bed and secretly say a vow of eternal love for DDFF.

1:30 am, phone rings.  DDFF's other client is doing it - I have to go do March Mama.

1:35 - 4:30, doze and dread, doze and dread, doze and dread.  No child care available today, I'm not in the right mental place.  How in the hell?

4:38, phone rings.  March Papa says, "it's moving and she cannot hack it, we're going to the hospital - meet us there. Yes, we know this is against our birth plan, no we don't care."

5:09 meet them at the hospital.  March Mama is 9 cm dilated and baby is moving down.  No wonder it was intense!

7:37 am, beautiful baby girl F enters the world with tiny, gentle pushes.  She is 6 pounds 14 ounces and perfect. 

8:30, leave new March family in their room, all of them eating.  Mama and Papa from the cafeteria, Baby F from her mama's breast.

 

This is the way it is supposed to be.  This was a healing birth for me and for my client.  Everyone was warm and loving and gentle.  I was blessed to be at this birth - things happen for a reason.

 

Welcome to the world, little Miss F.  M & J, you rock the casbah, folks.  Thanks for letting me be a part of your miracle.

 

 

 

bits and pieces

I had a rough birth that spanned 2 days.  I'm still processing it and working through it.  Mama and baby are fine and well and happy, but I learned a lot with this one - learned a lot about myself and where I am right now.  It's hard feeling the need to re-evaluate, but not really wanting to admit the results of the evaluation.  DDFF, I'm gonna need you on this one.  Let's schedule either sushi or drinks (tea counts as a drink) shall we?  Maude knows you probably have a lot to unload about your trip.

 

Folks, DDFF got stuck in Texas.  Missed flights and all that.  While it might not seem like a big deal, let me just say that if you've already been away from your kids and partner for 4 days, an extra day might as well be year.  SO, if you offer to take someone to the airport, you better fucking well know how to get there.  Mama, I'm feeling some righteous anger for you, so let me know if you want me to whoop some Texas ass, Hank Hill style.

 

The kids and I missed the Curious George party.  SS, so sorry - I'd have rather been there.  Tell me all about it!!  (Saw the pics on your blog - sooooooooo adorable! CP is getting SO BIG!!)

 

VJ is in a rough place with someone she loves dearly.  I wrap my love around you - hope you can feel it in CA.

 

B is on FIRE with his framing.  He just finished a piece that he made as a gift for a long time friend of ours.  It's so amazing, it sucks the breath right out of me.  After he's given it, I'll post a picture.

 

Happy Birthday, CTM.  Miss February sends you love.  Now, get out there and raise the pop up and score some hippie chicks!  :-)

 

I love being friends with my Dad.  We had a wonderful, albeit brief, chat this morning.  It's awesome that he gets me.  I never even thought it was possible.

 

The boys are learning about the atmosphere on Mars and satellites and space history.  They're eating muffins and wearing their pajamas.  Homeschooling at it's best.

 

Be good to yourselves today everyone.

 

 

Boobalicious

Okay, ladies, let's face it - we have breasts. We have breasts of all different shapes and sizes, breasts of different colors, breasts of different weights, breasts of different religions, maybe. Our breasts might be bi-partisan, one swinging to the left while the other swings to the right. Our breasts might salute the sun or tuck into our pants. Our breasts might bounce and jiggle or they might just hang on for dear life. They may be parts of our daily routine or, for some women, may be a part of our past. Regardless of their status, the fact remains that, as women breasts area part of our lives.

So, why do we treat them so badly? Why do we try to squish them into holders that are too small and are beggin' for mercy? Why do we let them hang out in big cups that are too big for them - some sort of isolation treatment?? Why do we let them sag down low or duck tape them to our chins? WHY DO WE ABUSE OUR BUST?

85% of all women are wearing the wrong sized bra. That most likely means you, and you, and you, too, are wearing some ill fitting contraption day after day and wondering why in the world you are cursed with a freaky chest. Why do they sag? Why do my clothes not fit? Why does my back hurt? Have I really gained so much weight as to warrant the dreaded back fat? Do they really have to disappear like a spin off of that oh so famous Seinfeld episode about shrinkage?

Ladies, please join me in the following chant: hate the bra, love the boob.

I had a life changing experience today and I'd like to invite you all to step into the light right along with me. I went to a specialty shop and got custom fitted for the perfect bra. Yes indeedy. Victoria's Secret is wonderful for buying something sexy and even supportive, but what they know about properly fitting a bra could fit into an AA cup. The last properly fitting bra I owned I got when I was 17 years old. Since then, I have spent several years going braless (tell your daughters that it WILL catch up with them,) then had 2 babies and spent about 4 years breastfeeding, and then lost about 38 pounds. That's a lot of in and out and stretch and shrink and push and pull for my mammaries. I found myself just a few months shy of my 30th birthday and not having a single bra that fit and no real certain idea where to get a bra that would.

I entered the shop tentatively. Would I be felt up by an 80 year old woman with drawn on eyebrows? Would there be nothing for me to choose from but mastectomy garments? WHAT IN THE HELL WOULD I BE SEEING??

What I saw was my eyebrows raising and raising again as I tried on no less than 40, that's right - FORTY, brassieres. I had a personal fitter, someone who ran around and found a billion different bras in different colors, shapes, styles, and sizes. She answered questions and when I was on the fence about one or another style, she made the call. "Nope, too small." "Nope, too big." "Heh heh heh, yeah, that one is not going to do it." And, when they worked well, she said so. Hell, she didn't need to say so - it was obvious. As it turns out, I wasn't so far off on my guessing as to my size. Where I did go wrong was thinking that what I found in Target was "close enough" to my size. Ladies, repeat after me: THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS CLOSE ENOUGH. That's like saying, "Yeah, I didn't have an orgasm, but it was close enough." Uh huh.

I found 2 styles that worked so well, it was like stepping out into the light after years of imprisonment. I even wore one of them out of the shop, throwing the price tag over the fitting room door and singing out, "Maxine, this one isn't coming off of me without dinner and a foot massage, so go ahead and ring it up!" I left that store feeling alive and feminine and loving, absolutely loving, my beautiful bodacious ta-tas. I looked 5 years younger, 10 pounds lighter, and sweet sake, my back feels amazing.

Friends, let me tell you - my girls are dancing today. They are dancing and dancing and I swear to Elvis and Kim Cattrel, my girls are never going to sit with the wallflowers ever again. I swear, it changed my life - and it can change yours, too. GO right now. If you're at work, fake sick. If you cannot fake sick, pretend I died and be so aggrieved (as you certainly would be, if it were true) that you must take the rest of the day off. Then go straight to your specialty lingerie store - one that also fits for mastectomy patients, 'cause I'm telling you, they know breasts and bras and they won't let you walk out with an ill fit. Get yourself fitted, get yourself a new over the shoulder boulder holder, and then go get yourself a Mojito. You've earned it.

Local ladies, check your inboxes in the next few days. I'll be hosting a "Bras, Boobs, and Booze" evening in the near future (did I mention I got lots of coupons to share with my friends?) We'll go out, all of us will get custom fitted (cause let's face it, everyone needs it) and you can get some fabulous tit slings of your very own, and we'll follow it all up with lovely cocktails with which to toast our newfound beautiful bazooms.

Love your breasts, ladies, but love yourself first and treat yourself to something that fits. It'll lift more than you think, I promise.

I'm off to go run around in my new black lace magic bra 'cause it's so pretty and it's Thursday - B is home!! ;-D

Easy Peasy Tibetan-esy

In the Hands of Destiny

A great Japanese warrior named Nobunaga decided to attack the enemy although he had only one-tenth the number of men the opposition commanded. He knew that he would win, but his soldiers were in doubt.
On the way he stopped at a Shinto shrine and told his men:
"After I visit the shrine I will toss a coin. If heads comes, we will win; if tails, we will lose. Destiny holds us in her hand."
Nobunaga entered the shrine and offered a silent prayer. He came forth and tossed a coin. Heads appeared. His soldiers were so eager to fight that they won their battle easily.
"No one can change the hand of destiny," his attendant told him after the battle.
"Indeed not," said Nobunaga, showing a coin which had been doubled, with heads facing either way.
 

I have spent a lot of time in my life complaining about the path I was on, what was going on around me, my own inner angst, my family, money, stress, emotional stress, etc.  We all do that, I think.  But I'm learning that it's not necessary. We all have the power to change our course, to have Destiny in our own hands. 

 

• Have collectors calling you?  Answer the phone and be honest - something can always be worked out.
• Sick of the clutter?  Throw some crap away.
• Butt too big?  Put down the doughnut and exercise.
• Life is spinning to fast?  Slow yourself down.
• Feeling disconnected to your spouse?  Plug yourself in.

I know it sounds so simple, but life is simple, if we allow it to be.  Show up and do your best in every situation.  Whatever else happens is of little consequence.  It is not our business what other people think - it is only our business what we think.

 

The Dalai Lama says, "Peaceful living is about trusting those on whom we depend and caring for those who depend on us."  Simple words from a "simple Buddhist monk."

 

Take it easy today, folks. Easy Peasy Tibetan-esy.

 

Namaste.

 

Happy V-Day

Happy V-Day. V stands for Victory, Valentine, and Vagina. To read more about V-Day and the good work associated with this day (besides jewelry, chocolate, flowers, and awesome sex,) please click here. You could help save someone you love.

True to form, Stealth stamped his mark on this year's Valentine's day last night. We had spent the day shopping around to find the super duper magnificent cordless power drill that can go through Fort Knox, do laundry, and perform those super special sexual favors that just aren't gonna happen every day so stop asking. Okay, so maybe the drill doesn't do all that, but it should for what we ended up paying for it. Regardless, we find the drill, pick up some extra Titanium bits, and grab the slippers B has been wanting. Looking good. All day we talked about how tomorrow (today) is V-Day and how the drill and such are presents for Daddy, so shhhhhhh! B walked in the door last night and Stealth says, "Hi Daddy, guess what? WE got you a drill!!"

What the hell?

So, in light of recent illuminations, we decided to exchange gifts last night. The drill was a hit, as were the bits, but the slippers didn't fit (must be the company - B bought me the same brand slippers for Christmas and they didn't fit, either.) NO biggie, easy to exchange.

Again B spoiled me rotten with lots of little blue boxes filled to the brim with loveliness from our favorite jeweler. This time was a gorgeous set with onyx and white, clear, and black quartz. Heavy and one of a kind -simply beautiful. I don't know what I did to deserve him.

I gave the gift of love to myself this morning with a long relaxing yoga session and some yummy African Orange Mango tea (try it, folks.) Made Monkey Bread with Hazelnuts for my monkeys, and am going to take the day easy. LOVELY.

V-Day is so much more than gifts and treats, though. While I agree that we should all tell each other every day how much we care, it's all so easy to get tied up with the bills and work and appointments and day to day crap. Today, if no other day, make sure to tell folks how you feel. It will feel so good to you and to them.

If you have a mate, love your mate like it's your first day together. If you don't have a mate and want one, my wish for you is that Cupid shoots you squarely in the ass - and I mean that in the nicest possible way! ;-)

******************

To my two friends out West who finally decided to make it legal - I couldn't be happier for you both! My heart is warmed a thousand times with the thought of your future together as husband and wife and the family that you will have together someday. Brightest of blessings and all the love I can muster to you both .

Yep, those are our kids

If you have kids, you'll notice that occasionally you'll see yourself come shining through. Sometimes it's a wonderful experience, sometimes it's horrible, and sometimes it makes you piss your pants in laughter.

 

Yesterday I bought the kids new shoes.  Amongst the rows and rows and rows of shoes from which to pick, my kids did their Daddy proud and picked out canvas sneakers.  Yep, like Converse when they were still cool.  You know, Converse All Stars.  Duck picked out the low black ones,  not Stealth.  Stealth picked the BRIGHT RED high tops.  Yep.  And he's worn them non stop since.  We had a huge battle last night when we wouldn't let him sleep in them.  This morning he grabbed them before he even went to the bathroom.  HE wore them all morning in his pajamas and black cowboy hat.  They are his "RED SUPER SHOES."  B is so proud.

 

***************************************

 

On our way home from running errands this morning, I saw a police car speed out of a parking lot and tail a car in front of us.  Trying to teach my children to be compassionate (and trying to remind myself,) I said, "Oh, it looks like that police car is about to pull over that car.  I bet the driver is really scared.  Let's think a positive thought for the driver and hope that everything works out for the best."  I was so proud of myself, teaching my boys to think of others and care for others pain and angst.  Way to go, Mom.  Until I heard a little voice from the back seat.

 

"HEY, MOM, hurry up and HIT THAT COP!!"

 

"WHAT?  Duck, what in the world are you talking about???"

 

"Well, Mom, see, if we hurry up and smash into that cop, it'll get away from the car and the driver will be free!!"

 

 

hmm.  Seems I have slightly missed the mark.

 

Perfect

That's me, sitting in the middle of the stream of Meramac Springs. Just behind me is the huge natural pool where fresh water just bubbles up through the surface of the Earth. I'm sitting out there, listening to the bubble of the stream, drinking a hot cup of Lady Gray tea.

(nope, I don't suppose I'm supposed to be out there. I suppose one of these days I'll start caring about such things.) 

B took this picture of me last week - it was taken for a crafting magazine that will be featuring Ozark Handspun in the future.

This is the set that was in the fashion show at The National Needle Arts Trade Show in San Diego last month. 

Out

Shout OUT to SS who's getting the 1 elective surgery I'd ever have myself. She's under the knife now.  I'm thinking of you, Mama, and wishing you C cup bliss.

 

V is getting herself OUT there, interviewing with a million people, each of whom would be ahead of the game if they hired her.  It'll come, VJ, it'll come.

 

The secret is OUT.  B and I want things that cost money.  This is the hardest thing for two hippies to understand.  We always thought folks like us were selling OUT.  What we see now is that it's not selling OUT, it's just that our bones are old and tired from sleeping in tents forever and, dammit, a pillow top mattress and jacuzzi tub is awesome.  We can save the world in comfort, we've paid our dues.

 

CTM is stuck in Denver.  Too bad, I'd love to have my hat wearing pal back home - I'm OUT of luck.

 

Jill's modem is OUT.

 

It's my anniversary.  It's a little after 9 AM.  I'm going away with my LoveMan.  I'm OUT of here ...

--
 

I Do

Tomorrow is my anniversary.  I'll have been married to B for 5 years.  So odd, I've said it before and said it again, it seems as though it's been our whole lives.  Maybe we were married in a former life - maybe we feel so connected because we have been for generations.  Regardless, on February 9th, 2001, we stood up with our 8 month old son, Duck, and vowed to love each other and each other only till death us do part.  Amazing, it was easier to commit myself until death to him than it was to commit myself to a mortgage for a short 30 years!

 

5 years ago tonight, B asked me to marry him.  Yep.  A whole whopping 18 hours before we got married.  We'd had the thing planned for months, but he hadn't asked me to marry him - I guess he just assumed it was a given.  My best girlie friend, JP, set him straight.

 

We were so broke then.  SOOOOOOOOO broke.  Like, overdrawn bank account and the bills are past due broke.  My engagement ring was a small brass band that probably cost him a total of $6.  I wore that band from the night of February 8th 2001 until it broke a few months ago.  Oh, I cried and cried and cried when that band broke - I still have it.  It means more to me than millions of dollars.

 

We're leaving tomorrow and will be gone for a few days.  I'm looking forward to time alone with my husband, time to talk and love and learn and listen and just be.  Just be lovers and friends.  Not so much parents and income bringers and creators.

 

I'll be back and posting Monday morning.  Have a great weekend, everyone.

 

Full of tea

A Cup of Tea

Nan-in received a university professor who came to inquire about Zen.

Nan-in served tea. He poured his visitor's cup full and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the overflow until he could restrain himself no longer. "It is overfull. No more will go in!"

"Like this cup", Nan-in said, "you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?"

This is a koan that I've been studying the past couple of days.  It's profoundly simple and profoundly complex at the same time, as most Koans are.  I feel that I am that professor - wanting to learn and yet so full of my own thinkings, my own tea.

 

I can see what is in my cup and I can see that, if I hang on to my tea, I cannot welcome the new, healing teachings that I want to embrace.  They ring as true to my ears as a meditation bowl, but I can hear the tone in my ears, not yet my soul.

 

It's hard to let go of what you've been holding onto for so long - even if it's hurting you.  I see where my current thinking and life laws are damaging me, I can see that they are unhealthy and I'm even able to see when I am nurturing those negative behaviors and beliefs, I can see when I have done something that takes me a few steps back.  That is major progress, knowing these things about myself.  This is HUGE.  This is the first step to emptying my cup.

 

 

Tasty Yoga

If you ask me, I'll tell you that I've been doing yoga for years.  This is true - I started doing yoga when I was 20 - but I haven't been very disciplined about it.  There have been spells when I went maybe a year without doing yoga.  Guess what my life was like during that time?  If you've ever done yoga, you can imagine.  Yesterday I told B that I benefit so much from daily yoga and feel like I total idiot for allowing myself to forget that and get out of practice.

I've recently committed to doing daily yoga as part of my devotion to myself.  I'm taking better care of myself now than ever before.  I'm eating better, I'm not avoiding.  I'm dealing and learning and studying and growing and healing.  I'm being honest. I'm journaling.   I'm trying.  And, I'm doing yoga every day.  Have been for awhile now and the benefits are unreal.  It's enough to make me get up at 5 in the morning so I can get a good session in (complete with meditation) before the boys wake up.

 

It doesn't always happen that way, though.  Usually, I get up and get into the yoga and the boys come running out.  At first, they used to crawl on me (leading to tremendous  back strain and pain,) but now they just sit on the couch and whisper to each other.  I hear a lot of "Wow, Mama's really great at yoga!" followed by soft little applause.  Stealth asks repeatedly from the couch, "Mama, are you gonna do the tree pose?  Are you gonna do the tree pose?  Are you gonna do the tree pose?  I can't do the tree pose, Mama.  Are you gonna do the tree pose?"  So, eventually, I just do the pose, regardless of if it fits into the routine.  Then comes, "Stealth, it's your pose!  It's your pose!  Its'  Stealth Pose**" which is followed by, "No, that's not my pose.  I don't do yoga, Duck."  Finally, Duck cannot stand it anymore and he gets on the floor and does yoga with me.  This kid loves yoga.  He has his own yoga cd's (including a really cool one that involves kids and parents together in poses) and has asked me to order him his own mat (hardwood floors make it dangerous to substitute a blanket for a real mat.)  If anyone is interested, Gaiam is having a great sale (DDFF, I'm thinking of you, baby.)

Regardless of if I do it by myself or if I have small cheerleaders and helpers, my daily yoga has replaced my coffee ( I KNOW!!!)   I feel opened up from the inside out.  I feel that peace and happiness and joy are absolutely attainable for me because, as the Dalai Lama points out again and again, happiness and ease is the natural state of humans.  Everything else we bring upon ourselves.  Life can be good.  Life is good.  Life is Tasty.  I can dig that.

 

Namaste

 

** It's not really called Stealth pose, I'm sure you can figure it out.

 

Whew!

Just finished doing our taxes.  It's done, completed, and out of my hands.

 

All together now,

 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"