Posted onAugust 8, 2017byMarla|Comments Off on In Case I Didn’t Mention it, The Last Few Months Have Been Hard
Yesterday I did something out of the ordinary. I took some time off.
I have a history of trying to work something productive into every moment of everyday. I am constantly cooking or tidying (not that you’d notice), writing, reading, knitting, etc. I don’t sit still very well. It’s part of the reason yoga is such an important part of my day. It’s the only time I try to decompress, and most days, I don’t do that very well.
Since Felix was born, and especially since we had Rufus, I haven’t been away from my kids (outside of work) for more than a couple of hours at a time. Mostly, I didn’t want to be. I like my kids, and I don’t like interrupting their routine, but since January, when I became a stay-at-home mom, I have been with my kids All. The. Time. And I needed a break. So did Brock.
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For our fourth anniversary, Brock and I made it happen. We left the kids at home with grandma went out. We drank our coffee hot, we ate too much Indian food, we saw a movie. Then, after all of that, instead of going home and putting the kids to bed, we went to a hotel for a little peace and quiet.
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It might have been too quiet. We’re used to the hubbub of 2.5 boys and the near constant sounds of traffic and sirens and neighbors. And even though this hotel is probably less than two miles from our house, there was none of that. The suite was a cocoon of silence and privacy. I have had a baby living in my bedroom for the last three years, I don’t get a lot of privacy. I was so out of my element, I was unnerved enough to dig out my white noise app and think about turning on a thunderstorm just to have something to listen to–because apparently the music we had playing wasn’t enough for me.
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While the quiet was surreal, having an evening with my husband without a baby waking up in the middle of the movie and then again just as we’re going to bed was just as magically restorative as I wanted it to be.
Helping Felix make the transition to starting pre-school no longer feels so daunting, even though it means establishing a new daily routine for everyone, and dealing with some intense three year-old emotions. And there are other things I have been putting off (writing synopses, querying agents, finishing drafts, etc.) that don’t seem so scary today as they did yesterday, even though yesterday they felt a helluva lot more doable than they did six months ago.
I want to hang onto this feeling. I want to capture this sense of renewal and invigoration and seal it into capsule somewhere inside me where I can open it up whenever I feel bogged down by endless to-do lists, or when the baby wakes up an hour after I finally got to sleep, or when I have to be an extrovert at my service industry job and all I want to do is sit in a corner and read a book.
I know I can’t. But I can be better about taking care of myself. When I feel peaceful, it’s better for my family, it’s better for my writing.
Even though Felix’s school doesn’t start for two more weeks, tomorrow morning we’re all getting up early so we can practice getting out of the house by 8. That means my alarm goes off at 5:45. Despite opening the coffee shop for years, I am still not good at getting up in the morning. But I am getting up this early so I have time to do yoga. Because if I take care of myself first, maybe I can maintain a little bit of this energy.
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Posted onJune 6, 2013byMarla|Comments Off on What I did on my Summer Vacation
Last week, I was on vacation. The week before that I kind of took a vacation from the blog as well, and I have been kind of slow getting back to it. I have been thinking of you all, but things like farmers markets and Harry Potter movie marathon have got in the way. (Did I mention I made an Athrun-friendly version of Butterbeer?) Since we have no extra money to speak of, and I generally find travelling stressful enough to need a second vacation, I stayed home, slept in, probably drank too much wine, and made things.
Minerva in a baby Sweater
As mentioned in the previous post, I knit a baby sweater, and as promised, Brock put it on the cat. She is asleep in this picture, so deeply so that she allowed herself to be posed.
I do think magenta and orange are her colors, don’t you?
While that was a fun little lark and it kept my hands busy in the evenings, in reality, I really spent the better part of three days sewing. The first project was the cute little tote bag in the previous post. The second was another handbag, for me to actually use.
The Reversible Bucket Bag
This is the second pattern in The Bag Making Bible and the bag featured on the cover–a big part of the reason I wanted to buy the book. I am very smug with myself that I finally managed to sew it. It’s not perfect. The seams are a little more crooked than I used to sew, and I pretty much made up how to attach the bias tape because the instructions in the book were too dense, but I really like how it came out. I especially like the fabric–the perfect mood and combination of patterns. I generally find pattern combinations (like the one on the cover-ay yi yi yi) in books like these to be a bit to bold for my taste, but I was able to find some patterns that I though complimented each other instead of fought for space. (They were all quilting cotton from JoAnn.)
I am especially in love with the silver calico I chose for the lining. It’s so special, it’s only for me. (Yes, while the bag is technically reversible, I don’t plan to use it that way.)
Spending some time sewing this past week, I learned something important about myself. While knitting and spinning are productive, enjoyable ways to spend my time, I can perform them while doing other things: listening to an audio book, watching tv, socializing. Those fiber arts don’t take my full attention (most of the time). When I sew, however, I jump head first into a deep, dark tunnel from which I may not emerge hours, days, or weeks, and if anyone comes in looking to find me, they are likely to get bitten. Seriously, hours passed in what seemed like minutes, and I had no idea. As I shake the rust off my old sewing hinges, I think it unlikely that this mindset will change. Hopefully it will take me fewer hours overall, but I seem to be capable of sewing with a single-mindedness I seldom spare for any other activity–and it scares me enough that I realize I won’t be allowing myself to descend into that sort of madness too often. But don’t expect this handbag to the last sewing project you see on this blog.
And a teaser:
Wedding invitations have been produced, assembled, and mailed. Next time, what’s in the envelope and how we made them.
It’s strange to leave a place that you probably won’t return to, isn’t? Zurich is a lovely city, utterly charming. But I want to see everything there is to see, explore this whole beautiful world, and a return trip to Zurich seems unlikely.
I will just consider myself ever so lucky to have spent some time here and eagerly await the next adventure.
It never fails that the places and experiences I love most when traveling aren’t the carefully planned, well researched, guide-book-recommended must-sees. Oh, I do the planning and read all the books- I’m far too type-A to wing anything- but my favorite memories are always the things I stumble upon quite by accident while en route to the next thing on the list.
My trip to Paris last weekend was no exception. Having arrived 45 minutes early for an appointment (see type-A above) Carrie and I found ourselves wandering around an unfamiliar neighborhood before much of anything was open. In what can only be called destiny, our wandering took us to the doorstep of E. Dehillerin, my own personal Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory.
E. Dehillerin is a restaurant supply house but it’s also a temple to the art of cooking.
They have literally hundreds of thousands of items, crammed together in a state of organized chaos.
There are rolling pins of every shape, size and material.
Whisks, whisks, whisks.
And even more whisks.
The largest wooden spatula I have ever laid eyes on. Even more remarkable? They have pots large enough to require a stirrer that large! (I tried to get Carrie to climb inside one so that I could take a pic but she decided she’d rather have her dignity. Go figure…)
They have chef’s knives both expensive and affordable.
This is the “smalls” section. Oyster knife and glove? Check. Cheese trier? Check. Baking pans of every shape and size? Check. Cookie cutters, chocolate molds, pastry tips, thermometers, truffle planers, couscousiers? Check, check, check, check, check and check.
Have you ever seen such a lovely sieve?
This copper rooster is the E. Dehillerin mascot. If it didn’t weigh a thousand pounds and cost a thousands of dollars, it would be my mascot. Instead I contented myself with a handful of small things that fit my budget (and my luggage) a little better, including a few surprises for Zac.
If you are ever in Paris you should really put E. Dehillerin on your must-see list. Who knows what you will stumble across on your way?
I’ve been to Paris a few times and have always somehow let myself be talked out of going to the flea markets. My sister Carrie and I went this Sunday and I’m pleased to report that the flea market is even more wonderful than I could even have imagined!
The Clignancourt Flea Market is the grandaddy of all flea markets but it is so established and large that it has become more of an enormous area filled with antique shops than a flea market. As we weren’t in the market for very expensive furniture nor antiques, we opted for the smaller Porte de Vanves market. There must have been one hundred vendors selling everything you can imagine.
(Does anyone know who this is? This vendor had giant stacks of plates bearing this picture).
We spent a couple of hours at the market and left with a bag filled with inexpensive treasures. I will absolute go back to this market if I’m lucky enough to go to Paris again.
Here are a couple of tips for your trip to the market:
Wear comfortable shoes.
Bring along a large canvas bag to carry your purchases.
Bring cash. Most of the vendors do accept credit cards.
You can definitely bargain with the vendors but many of them don’t have much English. Start with “Is this the best you can do?” and write down the price you’d like to pay if you need to.
If you can’t get the vendor to come down to your price, walk away. You can always come back on your way out of the market but you may find something you like even more at a better price or decide you can live with out it. If you just know you’ll be sorry if you go home without it, swing back buy and pay the asking price.
Most items aren’t so unique that you won’t see them a few times. Old keys, vintage striped tea towels, moveable type and baskets of lace exist in abundance. It’s a good idea to walk all the way around the market before buying anything.
Carefully examine each piece before handing over your cash. It’s very easy to miss a scratch or chip in your excitement.
We didn’t see any public bathrooms around the market but you can always stop for a snack in a nearby cafe if nature calls.
Getting a taxi from the hotel to the market wasn’t a problem but we did wait quite a while for one to go by when we were ready to leave. It’s a good idea to get a phone number from your taxi driver if you’re in hurry to get to the airport.
Have you found any treasures at the Paris markets or any other flea markets? I’d love to hear about them.
Since leaving Washington Dulles yesterday I have been in four countries. My first flight landed in Vienna, where I boarded a flight to Zurich. My sister picked me up and we dropped most of my baggage off at her flat, then headed back to the airport and boarded a flight for Frankfurt. From Frankfurt we hopped a short flight to Paris!
The weirdest part of my whole trip is that I haven’t gone through passport control at all. As in, not once have I been asked to show my passport when entering or exiting any country, in spite of the fact that I changed terminals (and went through security) at every airport.
I’ve always had to show my passport when traveling to Switzerland before so I’m not sure why I haven’t this time. Peculiar…
I have to show you what was served for “snack” on the 50 minute flight between Frankfurt and Paris.
This is Aspic and mousse of asparagus with crayfish with purple potatoes.
White asparagus with sesame mayonnaise and strawberry puree.
And quarke creme with an asparagus/strawberry ragout and candied ginger. It was all DELICIOUS! I will definitely be trying to recreate the asparagus with a strawberry puree at home.
Also, when you land in Switzerland they give you chocolate.
I am exhausted after nearly 24 hours of traveling but I am not complaining. I hate it when people complain about their fancy vacations! It’s like, “This diamond encrusted necklace is just soooooo heavy!” And I don’t ever want to be that person. I still can’t believe I’m going to wake up in Paris tomorrow morning. SQUEEEEE! More pics soon.
Back in February, I took a lovely holiday in Zurich to visit my sister. Never in a million years did I dream I get to go back to Europe so soon, but some times things just line up in a crazy way.
Carrie is moving home from Switzerland and I am going there to help her pack up her flat. It was a total spur of the moment thing. Hooray for airline miles and free tickets! As an added bonus, I’m going to take advantage of the proximity to Paris to shoot a magazine stories while I’m there. Hooray for hotel points and free rooms!
The trip to France will be super short. I would love to hear what you would do in Paris if you only had 48 hours to spend. Is there a cafe in Paris you frequent or a favorite shop? Do you have a fantasy itinerary for armchair travel? Tell me about it.
I leave this evening and I’ll be gone for ten days, leaving the farm in the more-than-capable hands of Caroline, Zac and Charlotte. They have promised to post puppy pics everyday (I almost cancelled the whole trip when I realized that I would be missing nearly two weeks of their puppydom) as well as recipes and post for the non-puppy-obsessed.
I’ll be posting from the road and I (finally!) joined instagram, where I will be posting lots of pics.
We discovered that flying from Barcelona to Madrid early in the morning was the cheapest way to go, and so we went. We caught the bus from the airport to the Atocha Railway Station, a lovely restored iron and glass rail station. Here are a couple pics of the inside plaza! (better pics at the Wikipedia link)
We had no real plans for the day, so we wandered around town a bit.
Everything had really greened up in the two weeks we’d been traveling. Here’s the Paseo del Prado, one of major roads through Madrid.
I was very impressed at how “green” Madrid is. But it is also a big city,
Probably it’s so green because a lot of the park space was for the royalty, and then came Franco.
We relaxed about the Botanical Garden by the Prado. Though I don’t have allergies, at one point I started sneezing and sneezing. And then I saw this,
What is it? Giant oak pollen!
And these,
Olive, Yew, and Hazel (filbert) pollen.
There were things familiar and not in the garden,
Flowering Dogwood and some crazy spiny shrub.
And there were the formal gardens with tulips in a riot of color.
I got myself a pair of hip new shoes at Elena Hernández Zapaterias. They make me taller!
Actually, they are last fall’s style, so as usual, I am out of fashion. El Naturalista Ankle Boots, and they were almost half the price that Amazon is selling them for. Worth a trip, wouldn’t you say?
When we got on the plane to come home, it seemed empty. And then 100 boarding school students (in uniform) between the ages of 8 and 15 got on and filled the plane. It was like being in a middle school lunch room. They were mostly up and out of their seats, switching seats, chatting and loudly chatting and very loudly chatting. The girl who sat with us was not. I think it’s because she didn’t like flying (based on her exclamation when we landed). Other than that, she seemed put out that she wasn’t sitting with her friends. In the end I thought she was probably shy, a little sullen, and most likely spoiled. She briefly answered the few questions put to her (in Spanish, she also answered in Spanish), but didn’t elaborate or volunteer anything.
When the plane landed the swell behind us pushed forward. I pushed the young man right back and told him to wait for the rest of us in the front. And then I stood and let the mom and her two teenagers on the other side get out first. And then the kids started pushing the button to call the flight attendant. She came up and told them not to, that it was for emergencies. These kids were heading back to a private boarding school near Dublin for the last part of their term. You’d think they’d understand English well-enough, and I suppose they did. But they kept pushing the buttons. “¡Oye! ¡Maleducados! No se puede tocarlo” (Hey, you rude little beasts, you’re not allowed to touch that). A bunch of them looked at me in shock, stopped doing it for about 3 minutes. And then started up again.
We complimented all the flight attendants and told them they surely deserved time off or a bonus or at the least a good drink. And the mom next to us? She said (in perfect nearly unaccented English, though she was Spanish) “No wonder their parents ship them off to boarding school.”
I got sicker and sicker as we traveled home. Though I was sneezing the day before, I’m blaming those 100 boarding school kids! Luckily for me, it was just a cold like normal people get colds, so I didn’t miss any work and, more importantly, got well pretty quickly.
We’ve been home over a month, and I miss Spain (the coffee, the wine, the language, all the sights, the people)! Maybe another trip is in order, though for the next trip, I’d like to spend more time in one area and just take day trips from there, to really settle into a place for a while.
Posted onMay 20, 2012byknitnzu|Comments Off on Barcelona – ¡Gaudí, otra Procesión, la Sardana, y All You Knit is Love!
Good Friday Procession
There were two processions on Good Friday, and we caught one of them along La Rambla. It was smaller and more somber than the one we saw in León. The floats looked smaller. They are carried by fewer people, and these people are hidden under the float.
Crowd behavior was pretty fascinating here. Folks started lining up along the road before the procession came through, and we found a good spot to stand at the end of where the mass of people already were. More and more folks came to be along the street… there was plenty of room to spread up and down the street, but it quickly became pretty tight. I was more than willing to give up my front row street side spot to older people or to make way for them, but I started getting peevish about people my age and younger shoving their way around.
One tallish couple stood right in front of me (they stood on the street as we were at the edge of the walk), so I tapped them on the shoulder and indicated “to the back”. They did. Another did this and after a few minutes (they were shorter, but I was still peevish) I did it again… They asked “why is everybody standing here? what is happening?” We told them it was the Easter procession. They suddenly got a disinterested look and left. And of course there was the tall guy with the camera who made it hard for everybody to see…
The best part was the woman who broke out in a saeta (serenade to the Virgin on the float). She’s the woman in the photo on the right, carrying a white bag, with a hat and some funky white heels. At the time we had no idea if she was just a bit nuts, it was a gypsy thing, or a procession thing. It’s a procession thing. Click the link, there’s a video there of a teenager singing the saeta… sounded much the same, but put an older whiskey voice in it… it was fabulous!
Barcelona is the city of Gaudí
Gaudí was an architect who broke a lot of molds and left some crazy and interesting buildings and such.
La Sagrada Familia, his final work, the unfinished cathedral.
Even though we got here early, there was a huge long line to get in. We were in line (around the entire block) for about an hour. Just as we were funneled in to some area, this couple just walked in front of us. I gave her the tap, told her it was a line, and she looked at me like I was some alien bug and berated me in some language that I didn’t recognize. We thought maybe Polish, but didn’t sound like it, or maybe Romanian… but now I’m thinking Czech. Anyhow, she was young, taller than me, super skinny, and attractive. I just thought oh honey, you are going to be so ugly when you are only a little older.
The cathedral was under-impressive on the inside, which was kind of nice. I liked all the weirdness that Gaudí did, but not so much the newer stuff added on since. I also really liked the apse, where you could see the basement and how it was neo-gothic, and how he changed and morphed it.
We paid the extra to go up one of the towers. But the elevator was broken and the line was also humongously long, so we skipped it. I felt bad for the museum person staffing the elevator, she was getting grief from all sorts of people.
Parc Güell, the unsuccessful housing site that is now a park open to all.
We were here on Easter. With all of the rest of Spain. Nice park, but way, way too many people that day. Though it did make for some great people watching, especially along that long sinuous bench.
La Casa Mila (The Quarry), I think it’s apartments now.
We didn’t visit this, just walked by it several times.
Casa Battló, designed as a house, now open as a museum on several floors (offices on others).
We took the tour… this is a crazy house! I especially was intrigued by the ventilation system he built. There are vents along all of the windows, and the attic is really amazing. You can really feel the air moving through the building.
I was also amused by photos of the family he built this for. Here you have this wild, crazy, very modern house, and the people look just like everybody else in the Victorian time. And they put doilies on the furniture, much of which was made to match the house. Doilies!
All You Knit is Love
All You Knit is Love is a lovely knitting shop in the old part of Barcelona, run by the charming Jennifer (from Tuscon!).
I picked up some lovely cotton viscose (I’ve used this before, but I never see it for sale here), and some sock yarn dyed by Marga!
The other well-recommended shop in Barcelona is Llanarium, but we didn’t make it there (holiday schedules).
All You Knit is Love is not far from the Wool Plaza! We asked directions of a couple of young cops, and they were rather amused… and after we found the place, they also came by to check that we did indeed get there.
La Sardana
We spent Easter Monday doing just about nothing. It was great. We wandered over to the cathedral, where there was a small crowd on the steps…. musicians! And the next thing you know,
Spontaneous dancing of La Sardana! This is a Catalan folk dance, and I even got somebody to explain to me the rhythm… the dancers all seemed to be counting.
The group in the espadrilles danced with more precision, toes in what I imagine were more proper point, hands higher… BUT everybody, especially the older people, in the pick-up groups were definitely having much more fun.
Just other stuff
We came upon a group playing music on the street… They were FABULOUS. The guy with the Didgeridoo-ish horn would toot once, they’d all move, and then freeze… for a few of these, and then they went all out with some great Cuban/Latin music. They are Buenas Costumbres, and the musicians are from Cuba, Peru, Germany, maybe Venezuela and Ecuador… I forget now.
Of course I had to buy a cd, for DH. But in truth, the street music was better than the cd. Oh well, how would you know?
Another doggy friend, a Catalan Shepherd aka Pastor Catalán aka Gos D’Atura
We met him walking back from Parc Güell, in a lovely plaza in the Grácia neighborhood. (the accent on the a goes the other way, but I don’t have it on my Spanish keyboard…)
This crazy building is directly across from the optician’s, which still cracks me up.
There were lots and lots of really interesting buildings, not just Gaudí’s stuff. It was really typical that buildings on the corners had the corner cut off… this made the streets much wider. It’s a nice effect in a busy city.
Anba Bed and Breakfast, we just liked the outside walls… the inside looks pretty nice at the link too!
The Plaza Real, smaller than the Plaza Mayor in Madrid, and more charming.
Casa Ásia, with St. George killing the dragon on the outside (look to the left).
St. George is big in Barcelona, though now I forget why. Here’s another place where he’s killing that dragon,
We saw this all over, in sculptural relief, in mosaics, etc. etc. I think this one was on the side of the Casa Serra aka witch hat house
There is so much to see and do in Barcelona. It’s a big city, with a lot of tourists, which was kind of a down-side to us. I also found that I felt like I lost my Spanish somewhat here… you hear so many other languages… Catalan, German, Romanian, Italian, French, and who knows what. We also saw a lot of American tour groups and cringed at most of them… so unfortunate. Either because it’s a bigger city, or because there are more tourists, it didn’t seem as friendly, though individual people were indeed very friendly. I’m glad we went, and would be glad to visit friends here again, but it’s not high on my list of places I want to return to. Really, what I think I would enjoy, is spending 3 months in Spain, in only one place and maybe venturing out for day trips.
Only a quick post about the last day in Madrid left to go!
Regular blog news
The snowpile is indeed mostly gone… but the last guess was May 13, so Brenda wins! She’ll get some fiber to spin. I imagine by sometime this week it’ll be truly all gone (I usually go down to see if all of the ice is also gone from where the pile was).
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Posted onMay 8, 2012byknitnzu|Comments Off on Gilead Fiber Farm Shearing!
The recap of the Spain trip is being interrupted to tell you about the fabulous weekend I had with some friends in Bethel, VT. We were hanging with our pal Kristen at her farm. There were newish babies and a very new baby (born the evening we arrived)! Lots of snoggling with said babies and the bigger sheep and goats too. Lots of talking and laughing and playing with fiber. Doesn’t get any better, right?
But now I want a drum carder.
(Sara’s thinking, “I don’t know, man, that’s some orange”)
I ended up with a lot of “before” sheep and goat pics, but very few after. This is Anna (the ewe) with Atlas (her lamb), before and after.
ETA: Anna and Atlas on the left… Sophie and Stella, the lamb born the evening we arrived, on the right! Skippyjon is dad to both.
Yep, she ended up on her butt… but a few minutes later his feet were trimmed!
Sorry for the word-light post, but there’s no other way I’ll be getting these things posted if I don’t just do it whatever way I can.
