humming quietly to myself...

...Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me... I'm 36 today. I'm a little taller now than I appear in this picture. That's the last time I looked cute in bangs (and I'm relieved that Dad abandoned the mutton chops within a few years of this photograph). Panda is still with me, although he's very shabby now, has undergone several surgeries, and no longer plays Frere Jacques. I found him in a box recently, poor thing, and liberated him to sit in the armchair with my collection of Etsy bunnies. The bonding has been a little rocky, with all parties feeling faintly threatened, but I have hopes that they'll work it out.

It's been a mostly good 36 years. I have wonderful family and friends who are very dear to me, time to practice a craft that I love, and feel lucky to have a good job in hard times. My old wandering gene is making me feel restless these days, though. I have an internal buzzer that goes off every few years and tells me to move on. It went off over a year ago, but I don't feel like I can leave Chicago right now, and I'm not sure where the wandering gene is telling me to go. One of my goals for this year is to do some research into places that appeal to me and plan a trip next summer to see friends and do relocation recon.

I also have some smaller-scale goals for my next year, including:

1. Paint my apartment (Why, you ask, if you're planning to move? Primarily because it will make me ludicrously happy in the short run, but also because the move probably won't happen for a couple of years. Also, paint chips are delicious fun and I like an excuse to collect them.)
2. Get in better shape (I'm currently using an accursed elliptical machine and hobbling around like a wounded thing)
3. Get at least 7 hours of sleep every night during the school year
4. Blog about things that are not remotely business-related
5. Write more letters (or indeed, any at all)
6. Quit Diet Coke once and for all
7. See more movies
8. Take more pictures

Wish me luck. I'll be starting my year of good intentions with cake.

tribute

Today is the 10th anniversary of my maternal grandfather's death. He was a brilliant, gentle and stately man, a New Jersey Supreme Court Judge, and I was prodigiously proud of him. One of my prized possessions is a hardcover edition of my favorite novel, All the King's Men, inscribed to him by his best friend. For all of my childhood and into my early 20's, we spent two weeks every summer with my mother's parents at our family summer house in Nantucket, and I found the book in the house a few years after he died. These summers were rich and familiar in so many ways, but it's the little daily things that continue to evoke the memory of my grandparents. To this day, every time I see half a tomato on a willow ware plate in the refrigerator, I'm reminded of Grandaddy's chicken sandwiches.

The last summer I spent with him was right after I graduated from college, and it was difficult. He'd begun to show signs of dementia, and we suspected Alzheimer's. I went to Nantucket to work for the summer, and to help my grandmother care for Scotty. He began as usual, keeping up his daily walks and usual habits, but he was deteriorating quickly and the change of location to the summer house made him worse. My grandmother struggled with his memory losses and difficult behavior, and kept thinking of earlier and earlier instances in which he'd behaved strangely, convincing herself that he'd been sick for some time. The lawnmower story is apocryphal, and several of us can't agree on whether or not it happened this way, but it resulted in one of the most special gifts I've ever received so I think it's an appropriate tribute for today, true or not.

The yard in Nantucket used to have several big, lush hydrangea bushes along the fence and near the house. At some point they all got cut down, and no one can remember why or by whom. That summer, my grandmother swore that Granddaddy had cut them all down the previous summer while he was doing yardwork and became confused about which plants were flowers and which were weeds. She was sure it indicated that he'd been sick for longer than we thought. It doesn't seem likely; I'm not sure that he could have done it even before his illness (he would have been 89 at the time). A lawnmower can do a lot of damage, but I don't know if you can mow down shrubbery with one. But as I say, I don't know what happened to them, and over the years it sort of became my accepted story for where they went.

My grandparents ended up leaving the island early that summer, and Grammy found a full time care facility for Granddaddy and admitted him early that fall. He continued to deteriorate, although he remained in good physical health, and he never went back to Nantucket. A few years later, I had moved to the island year-round and told the lawnmower story to a colleague who remembered admiring the bushes years before. My grandfather passed away August 21, 1999, and I went to New Jersey for the funeral. When I returned to the house in Nantucket, I found that my friend had left a beautiful new hydrangea bush on the porch for me. It was the most touching sympathy gesture I've ever received. I planted it behind the house in a sunny, sandy patch of yard, and it still thrives there a decade later. I took a cutting from it several years ago, and my parents nurtured it into a healthy little plant for their own yard in New Hampshire. My dad takes pictures of it from time to time to let me know how it's doing. This summer Mom traveled to Nantucket for a couple of days and also took pictures of the original plant. There are some lovely old photographs of Granddaddy in the house in Nantucket, but I don't have copies of any of them, so in their place here are the pictures of the two hydrangeas that grow in his memory. They seem a fitting tribute to my love for my grandfather and the place that Nantucket has in my memories of him. As hydrangeas go, they're still young and the New Hampshire one didn't bloom this year, but they're growing and thriving and I hope they last for years to come. With love.

happy birthday!

It's my dad's birthday today, and in his honor I'm posting a couple of wilderness-y pictures of him (cribbed from my parents' flickr site) on a recent anniversary trip he and Mom took to Cape Breton. Doesn't he look rugged? (Well done with the pictures, Mom!) The last one is the two of them taking a very sweet carriage ride. Happy Birthday, Dad - I love you!

oops.

I'm late with Friday's sneak peeks; I'm sorry! I was working my way through a gigantic to-do list and didn't get to any of the fun stuff. Here they are, slightly delayed. The new listings will start appearing in urban legend early next week.

The last of my summer line is discounted 20-50%, and will be on sale through the end of the weekend. (And then, like that, it's gone...)

tease

Thursday Sneak Peeks!

bead burlesque

Wednesday Sneak Peek!

peep show

I'm very pleased to bring you, for your sneak peeking pleasure, the first look at my new fall line for urban legend. I'll be posting sneak peeks all this week, and these designs will start listing in my shop early next week.

yes, please.

I was doing a little late summer browsing and found good stuff by clever people. I'm just sharing because I like you.

Let's start this wish-list off with a bang. This is Agatha Crispie. She's my latest obsession, and she's made with loving care and hand-glittering by andreakett. $56

Are you looking for the perfect hat? The one that will set you apart and make your eyes even bluer and your step even springier? Me too! Look no further, here it is. Vanessa Kensington 1960's Bubble Hat by BoringSidney. $55

Quirky, tweedy, adorable perfection. Pinstriped Whale Skirt, by unelephantrose. $38

I love everything about this scarf - the skinny shape, the colors, the pattern, and the fact that Fray not only designed and crocheted it, she also dyed and spun the yarn. One of a Kind Moving Forward Scarf. $78

nivenglassoriginals is another new obsession of mine. Her shop is chock full of these clever fused glass brooches, made with plenty of style and personality. Harlow Diva Brooch. $18

Any excuse - and I mean really, any - to buy a new bag. I love this Green and Grey Multi Dot handbag by apinkmilk. $117

I love DivineRose's bright and chunky jewelry. She has a wonderful eye for color combinations, and of course I'm a sucker for anything made with vintage elements. This stunner is on sale! Floral Charm Bracelet - Lemon Lime Turquoise. $75

Ok, really. How cute is that?! Gothic Chic Felt Mounted Deer Head with magnet by PlanetFur. $12.50

Fresh, summery, and clever.
Lemon and Lime Resin Ring by pennydogaccessories. $16

snail mail

(or Three Cheers for Katie!)

My dear crafting buddy had a birthday recently. Early on in our friendship, we established a pattern of giving each other Skunkboy Creatures to mark special occasions. Eight days before her birthday, I realized I'd forgotten to get the traditional critter for the little stockpile of gifts I was collecting. I hurried on over and chose a new fabric friend for the collection. Katie knows that this is a thing we have, and she got the package in the mail with lightning speed, bless her. When it arrived, it was so adorably wrapped (tissue paper and pom pom string and a Skunkboy sticker) that I didn't want to undo it and just left it as it was.

When we celebrated Shana's birthday, I gave her her presents over lunch at a restaurant and when she opened her Skunkboy package, we got a wonderful surprise! Here is the gift I chose:


And here's what we saw when Shana opened the package:

Both of us nearly fell over laughing. And then when I was done laughing, I had a little swoon of gratitude for this charming gesture, for Katie's warmth and generosity and superb crafting skills, and for the opportunity to connect with wonderful artists who will go that extra step for someone they've never met. I'm truly grateful, and Shana is delighted with her extra special birthday snail. Thank you, Katie; we love you!

caffeine'll kill ya.

And if not, Wilkins Coffee will get you anyway.

summertime. the livin' is smoothie.

I'm living on fruit and yogurt smoothies at the moment, and they look so pretty I thought maybe I'd share. They're extra easy. I bought a bunch of fresh fruit and froze it, so it's easy to just toss in the blender whenever I want. My favorite of the moment is cherry, but I've also used blueberries and bananas. I use Wallaby fat free vanilla bean yogurt from Whole Foods, and whatever bottled orange juice is on sale. Toss equal parts yogurt, oj and fruit in the blender (if you're using fresh fruit instead of frozen, use a little less oj), and blend on high until the fruit is chopped and the smoothie is frothy. For something less fruity, try oj and baby beets (available pre-cooked and packaged in the refrigerated section from Trader Joe's and Whole Foods). Enjoy!

and now for something completely different

I spent most of the day yesterday at a memorial service for clowns. Here's what happened. In 1918, a train wreck in Hammond, Indiana killed 86 people and injured many more when an engineer fell asleep and ran his train into a stopped circus train which housed the traveling Hagenbeck-Wallace Circus. Most of the people killed were circus performers and roustabouts. The victims of the crash are buried at Showman's Rest in Woodlawn Cemetery in Lake Forest, IL. For the past several years, local chapters of clown guilds have gathered once a year to hold a memorial service and performance in their honor. Shana heard about this from a friend and got a group of people together to go and see the spectacle. I couldn't resist.

Almost everyone I know is afraid of clowns. I'm not; they're not my favorite part of the circus, and I think they're a little creepy, but they don't actually make me nervous. However, even I was uneasy a couple of times at this event. It felt so oddly voyeuristic to be there, watching what was essentially mourning for a very insular group of people. And yet, the voyeurism was encouraged and our attention was sought after with performances and prizes and trivia games - there was an actual program for about an hour and fifteen minutes, leading up to a procession of clowns laying flowers on the Showman's Rest memorial.

The opening procession.

The world's most adorable dog, apparently a mix of corgi and golden retriever. He turned out to be part of the show and is named Jelly.

Clowns were handing out goodies, including smiley face stickers and plastic cockroaches. Colleen was thrilled with her plastic bug, and less excited when she saw some real ants.

Man, wearing a white clown mouth.
The hat had a Minnie Pearl tag on it.

There's something profoundly disturbing about a clown practicing his act in a graveyard.

I got bored after a while and lay down for a nap, earning myself a sunburn in the process.

Working out the details on the giant clown glasses.

The primary source of my discomfort. (He's the one who was handing out cockroaches, naturally.) At one point, I was taking pictures of the show, and he walked right in front of us - about six inches away. I didn't see him coming, and I think I stopped breathing for a second. I'd been trying to get a good picture of him for a while, and I think he'd noticed and was trying to unsettle us on purpose. It worked.

A curious memorial marker, the only one of its kind in the cemetery. I couldn't make out what it said, but it seemed to be some kind of indicator for a section of Showman's Rest.