looking up

you know how i am always talking about being positive? thinking happy? well i have to confess that last week i was doing exactly the opposite. really the opposite, like thinking dark, awful, mean things. why so down? so many reasons. one main one being that the side of my van came in direct and smashing contact with a stop light pole. the pole won. big time. adding to my running tally of why i really dont care too much for winter. i love snow, i think it is beautiful, but the daily trappings of living in cold weather really push my buttons, and apparently my car.

as a result i spent most of the end of the week wallowing in anger, which i am sure directly caused my cold to come back, leaving me wallowing in goo too. but then last night i sort of snapped out of it. i remembered all my bold statements of happiness and contentment, felt like a jerk for not living up to them and then did a one-eighty switch.

i put in the new shins album, turned up the volume, grabbed arlo and commenced dancing around the living room with eliot and collette. by golly it worked. i started smiling. i started laughing, eliot has some moves man. and then the best yet, i started feeling better. i said thank you for being the only one in the van. i said thank you for not hitting someone else's car. i said thank you for having insurance. and here i am. just fine. with a longer view and savoring the blue skies today and temps that eeked up into the 40s. winter will end. it will get warmer, hot even. life goes on. amen. off the soap box. moral of the story? dance. it can fix things.

this, that and santa

i feel like i am juggling a lot right now. luckily they all seem to be things i actually want to be juggling, so that is nice. this is the stack by my bed right now, which for me is revolutionary. i used to be a strict one book at a time girl. i mean, i wouldnt even think about another book until i had finished the one i was in, and now i have three going and just picked up two more. my thirteen year old bookworm self is getting a little panicky, and my rebellious thirty year old self (is that contradictory??) is being somewhat belligerent to the nerd in my heart. go figure. for me crafting is always competing with reading. i have been making progress on eliot's birthday quilt. that is to say, i have things assembled, ironed and ready to cut. i foresee lots of cutting and sewing in my weekend. not so much reading i guess.

work has calmed down which is always nice, still busy but minus the frenzy. and just yesterday i found a new pair of argyle socks hiding in the bottom of my sock drawer. what does that have to do with work you might ask? nothing, but the fact that i spent most of my work day smiling because i had new argyle socks on. i have a severe dislike of solid/plain colored socks and try my best to avoid them as much as possible. why? i dont know.


monday this beauty came in the mail from melissa (melissa, sadly your gift which is 90 percent finished has been out ranked by the quilt. i didnt think you would mind. christmas in july?) and i cant stop looking at it. she added this stitching for me, which i love. i hope to see/have/experience/appreciate bounty in all things this year and on into the future. i think i am going to hang this in my room to remind me every day. thank you melissa, spot on.

eireann started it

apparently this is national delurking week, and sweet eireann introduced herself (you should go say hi!), i thought i would do the same.

my name is hannah. this is my space to do whatever, as you can see. i like books, blankets and hot water bottles, preferably together. i like sleep, even if i dont get as much as i think i should. i love to eat and cook and mince. i like to take pictures of anything and everything. i love sending my kids to bed freshly bathed because those last kisses of the day are the sweetest. i love my husband. he works hard at all things. i like it here, i hope you do too.

candy

::for the eyes::from mav the genius behind p2p press::




::for the ears:: begin to hope:: latest cd by regina spektor::

i cant get it out of my head. if you go to the music part of her site you can listen to it too, or watch the video for fidelity. here we are at wednesday already. wow. things are busy at work. we are very behind schedule on a report, which someone just noticed and that same some just lit a fire under our you know whats. great. especially when the very last thing i want to do is artifact analysis with things like this and this floating around. not to mention a certain someone i know is turning five (good lord!!!) at the end of this month. all that to say i will probably be taking at easy around here, but you can still find me over at flickr. i mean i am still taking pictures of this one. i cant stop...

how can i be?

wow, i certainly didnt expect so many of you to be taken with my mom's story like that. sorry to spring it on you. i so rarely cry that i forget to think about it. honestly i wrote that story to remind myself that i really do love and appreciate my mom because she is so so driving me crazy right now. case in point, we got into an argument on the phone last night and i had to hang up. ah life.

and now to lighten things up, shall i tell you a little piece of my own story? and by that i mean how much of an idiot i can be? i had my own little christmas miracle last week while i was downstairs crafting away. how many things have i quilted? quite a few. two big blankets and little things here and there. well this particular afternoon i was working on a little project and my damn quilting foot kept falling apart. i was starting to hit that note of panic because i really needed it to hang on so i could finish what i was making. not to mention that i didnt really want to have to shell out another $35 for one. so after about the seventh time of me getting out my little screw driver and removing the whole foot so i could snap the pieces back together, i had an epiphany. you know the little arm thingy that actually walks the foot up and down? you know the one that is supposed to rest on the screw coming out of the post so that it can go with the motion of your needle? this whole time, for a YEAR people i have been using my walking foot incorrectly! i have had that stupid little handle just resting on top of the screw post so that it doesnt so much "walk" my quilt through, but bumps up and down sporadically of its own accord. i have literally been pulling with might my quilts through my machine, forcing the fabric to walk instead of having the foot do the work for me. yanking even. yes, i fully admit that i am a crafting idiot, and yes i am pretty sure that an actual light bulb was floating above my head and there was an audible ding when it lit up. i can not believe that i have been using that stupid thing that way for so long. so long. when i put two and two together (and the chorus of angels broke into song) you would not believe how easy it was to quilt. my fabric slid through my machine like butter. it was so easy. so easy, and i am such an idiot. needless to say i feel like i could quilt the whole world now.

i mean look at those stitches!!! so smooth, so even, so uniform. it is a whole new world. anyone need anything quilted? i am ready to go. i even dug out the six year old multiple yards of fabric that i have for eliots baby quilt. that project is finally going to happen, five years late, but it will happen.

ok, so now that i have admitted how stupid i can be, lets talk some shop. i changed huffmania over to the new blogger, so some of you might be seeing that big red exclamation point in your bloglines. if you feel like it, i think re-subscribing should fix it. also if you are having problems commenting, please let me know. haeshu at gmail dot com. and i plan on dusting off the recipe box this afternoon. alicia got me going... oh baby. and last but not least, laura from spain, por favor mandeme un email! me gustaria mucho hablar contigo mas!! have a wonderful weekend friends, there is curry and white wine in my future. mmm mmm.

her story

this is my mom. i talk about her here sometimes, but i thought it would be a good idea to tell her story. recently she has been driving me crazy, but then last night as i was looking through some old photos i found this one, a favorite of mine since i can remember. as i sat there looking at it, my irritation melted away, and i felt so much appreciation for her, for her bravery. i love this photo for so many reasons. i love her hair, i want mine to look like that. i love her clothes, that they are back in fashion, i love that she is wearing yellow converse and petting a baby squirrel that she rescued from the side of the road. but thinking about her story, about her life at that age, this photo suddenly struck me on a different level. i see a sadness around her mouth, i see that she is alone in the picture, and in a sense she was so alone at that point in her life. i see her petting that small life and see her reaching out for something to care for and above all i realized that she was so brave to do what she did. and so i thought i would share that story. it isnt particularly amazing or harrowing, but it is hers and therefore it will be mine forever.

my mother was born in 1954 in bogotá, colombia. she is the second child in a family of three girls and one boy. her dad worked a hard job in a factory and loved to sing along with opera records late at night on the hi-fi. her mother stayed at home with her children and her mother in law and kept the house spotless. a family of the 50's. she grew up a happy child in a life that was good, but had its fair share of ups and downs. many times those late night opera sessions were spurred on by alcohol. at one point her mother moved out of the house for six months because she was fed up with her husband. a bold move for the time that ended up serving only as a temporary fix. but still she was happy, maybe a bit prone to mischief but always with a twinkle in the eye, a laugh and a big smile. as a teenager she had friends all over the neighborhood and would go visiting. there was a boy she liked who lived up the street. she liked to walk that way and see if he was home. one day she made the short walk and found out that he was home and had a friend staying with him. an american. tall and gangly, with longish straggly hair. she noticed him for sure, but still had her eye on the neighbor boy. this american was staying for a while. his teenage cynicism had him exploring central and south america, and he was in no hurry it was the 70s. besides, this colombian girl with the big brown eyes was worth some time. they started spending time together. he lost his dictionary on the bus the first day in town and was slowly building up his spanish skills. i like to think there was giggling over grammatical errors, but that they made him that much cuter and slowly the neighbor boy realized he was no longer needed for those walks around the block, they were doing just fine on their own. two months go by, he says he has to go back to the states for money, but that he will come back. she says ok, but doenst really believe him. he leaves, and keeping his word, comes back a few weeks later. three more months go by and he asks her to marry him. she says yes. she is 20 and he is 19. her parents are skeptical but dont say no. he doesnt tell his mom back home because he is afraid she would object. they get married. she wears a bell bottomed jump suit with pearl buttons all the way up her tiny torso and flowers in her hair. he wears a blue suit with a fly collar and has grown a mustache to look older. they honeymoon on the coast and then comes the jumping off point. she says good bye to everyone she has ever known, to a family she has never left, the few blocks that made up her world until then and leaves for the land of dreams. america. reality sets in. she lives in a house with her new husband and his mother. his mother does not disapprove, but does not quite give her approval either. she doesnt speak a word of english and her mother in law doesnt speak a word of spanish. he works all day at a gas station for $2.15 an hour. she sits in her room crying most of the day until he comes back and she has someone to talk to again. she misses her mom. her sisters. her block. she is afraid of her new mother. he has friends in washington, why dont they put a mattress in the back of his red toyota pickup and drive there? it is beautiful and they say you can make money picking apples. they pile their belongings on the mattress under the makeshift shell of plywood that he has tied down on the back and begin their journey. they stop in montana at a rest stop. she sits on a picnic table to stretch out her legs. she sees a little movement in the grass. a baby squirrel. she approaches softly, and picks it up. feeds it some crackers, slips it in her pocket and on they go. she is lonely living in a world of millions and she knows only one person. they arrive in washington and pick apples for a season. stay with friends in some cabins. after a few months, they drive back to missouri. she finds out she is pregnant and has never been happier. in june a baby girl is born and her life is changed forever. here is her very own doll to take care of, a little thing that she can talk to, coo over and whisper spanish nothings to. someone to keep her company while he is at work. someone to share smiles with, someone to give all of her love to.

mom sometimes tells me that i saved her life. that i was the best thing that ever happened to her. it struck me last night what that really meant. how brave she was and how alone she must have felt then. being 20 in a strange country with out a thing to her name, a penny in her pocket. not even able to speak the language. thirty years later and she has four children. lives in the house she first came to with my dad, and though my grandmother doesnt live with them anymore, she comes over every morning for coffee. they love each other and my mom calls her mom. they speak the same language and a day doesnt go by that they dont see each other. my dad is still gone most of the time. they still speak in spanish with each other and they have had their own share of ups and downs. and life goes on. i love you mom.

bounty

my dad baked for christmas. 35 pounds of flour later and we were all amazed. sadly the lemon squares and cranberry oatmeal bars didnt make the picture. we had a wonderful, relaxed holiday. my time off at home was well spent with the kids, coffee and sudoku. i was also able to get reacquainted with my bed. i am not going to lie to you, there was a night were i was tucked in with the lights out by nine pm folks. and it felt good. really good. what didnt feel good? grating the crap out of my middle finger with my micro plane. ouch. i had to pick out a ribbon of skin and toss all the ginger i had just grated. so there you have it. a good start. my personal goal for 2007 is fitness both mental and physical. so far i have managed to tivo seven episodes of yoga to this end. now to actually dust off my mat. keep your fingers crossed (not grated).

but seriously. i spent a good part of last night pondering 2007 and i realized that it boils down to bounty. there is already so much in my life to be thankful for. i am rich in family and friends near and far. so this year i plan to spend more time appreciating what i have instead of worrying about what i dont have or cant control. any extra bounty that comes my way will make things that much sweeter. i want happiness and beauty to be a part of every day that i open my eyes to. i have realized that for me that means a mindset that i need to put on every morning, just like getting dressed. i will choose to be happy, i will choose to see beauty around me. i hope you do too.

seven days

just doesnt seem like enough. where does the time go? is it really seven days until christmas? oh my. taking a little time to reflect this morning i realized that even though time has been zooming by this month i have done nothing but enjoy it. really. i know i talk about how great my friends are, but seriously they are. i failed to mention last week that the reason that david and i got to go to the imogen concert (which was FABULOUS) was because two friends gave us tickets AND set up baby sitting. give me a break. that is almost too nice for me even and they are my friends. sheesh. thank you so much you two. david and i also had a chance to sneak out and see casino royale. so good. well, if you like action films, which strangely i do. i also at this moment in time like daniel craig (could his eyes be any more blue? i dont think so.) but i already had a crush on him from layer cake (another excellent action film. i told you i like them). while we are on the topic of violent action films we also went to see the departed a while back. stunning performances from an amazing cast. i will warn you though that there is toooons of violence and toooons of cursing in this film, not for the faint of heart, but when is scorcese?

ok, i didnt plan for this to be a post on movies, but i do like them. movies that is. what i meant to say is that our plan from the beginning was to have a very low key holiday, and it has turned out nicely so. i put absolutely no pressure on myself to hand make gifts this year, as a matter of fact, we got rid of nearly all gift pressure whatsoever this year. we politely asked our parents to not get anything for david and me and that in exchange we would not be getting them anything. i dont think there is an earthly way to stop grandparents from getting grandchildren gifts so we didnt even try. we kept our budget for the children very very low ($30 each and we came in under budget!) and it has been lovely. so even though christmas is screaming towards us, and i have yet to make a move towards christmas cards, i feel great! i hope you all are doing well too. if not, take a little break and try to feel good, ok? good. thank you. one thing i have been ga-ga for this year is baking. i cant seem to do enough of it. seriously, i cant. i have plans in the works this week for marshmallows, chocolate blocks, russian tea cookies and a cake or two. i posted a little recap over at the recipe box if you are interested. but seriously. no pressure, ever from here. i mean it about feeling good and enjoying yourself. do it.

am i gen x?

i dont know. sometimes i think it is strange to be the mother of three when i feel like i am only 24 or something. does that feeling ever slap you full in the face? it did me the other day, as i was bending down to give collette some cough medicine. i suddenly thought, this is my daughter. this is my daughter, i am responsible for her in every way. i knew this already of course, it just slapped me in the face at that moment. holy cow. how can i feel so young and so old at the exact same moment? who knows. i think tonight will hold another one of those strange moments. you see we are double booked, eliots christmas program at school at 630 and an imogen heap concert at 9 in lawrence. so basically we will sit in a church and video tape our son with hundreds of other parents in the early evening, race home, put the kids to bed, hop in the car and drive to lawrence to stay out waaaay late at a concert rocking our brains out. well maybe not, i myself will probably be covering up a yawn or two. but hey, a day in the life of a gen x'er parent i guess...

a bit of poetry...

by matthew porubsky
voyeur poems 2006

at long last

i'm waiting for
that feeling
between your heart
and your chest

like the first kiss
on the neck,
intertwined fingers,
a shared stare by
strangers,
soft lips and
wet tongues,
evening air
through car windows,
1:16 a.m. phone calls,
a late swim
in dark water lit orange
by parking lot lights,
just slipping inside
and just sliding out,
sunburnt skin,
a girl in a black skirt
dancing the cha-cha,
kneeling and folding hands,
a great drum solo,
the electric body,
checking for a wedding ring
from a distance,
a pink and purple sky,
finally finding out
her name,
a two-year old saying
your name,

a scribbling in the dark...

what i (secretly) love::fashion

i think this goes hand in hand with my secret love of makeup. i dont buy "fashion magazines" but if i see a picture of a fashion that i dream of wearing but will probably never do so in my life, i tear it out and ferret it away somewhere. i am nowhere near a fashionista. i think if i could i would wear jeans and tshirts everyday of my life, except of course for all those gorgeous gala gowns i would have to pull out now and then. yeah right. i wish i had a more original sense of style, i like to attribute my lackluster fashion performance to work. or more specifically the work wardrobe. i hate business and business casual (bleh) dress codes (but i would dearly love to own a really really really sharp, and expensive suit). economy forces me to straddle that line between acceptable for work and something i would like to wear on the weekend, because who can afford to have two sets of clothes, or really want that many clothes anyway? of course what ends up happening is that i end up with the worst of both. see above note about the suit. sometimes i think i could fix things with a well placed piece of jewelry or some other accessory, but my fledgling sense of style gets freaked out and back i go to jeans and tees. but i do love shoes. shoes can be outlandish and impractical and still go with a pair of jeans. i can break out in the shoe department. ah shoes. i love you. speaking of a freaking awesome sense of style, have you seen this picture? love that girl...

so as not to infringe on copy rights, the first and last images are from interview magazine, and the middle one is from blueprint.

what i love::family naps

a jumble of arms and legs and cuddles in the middle of the day is just right. not at night, but during the day i am all for it, and if you can throw in a nice light rain? perfect. have you seen this picture? it brings tears to my eyes...

what i love::baby chub

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amanda's post hit the spot this morning with the strange mood i am in. my crafting umph has puttered to nothing. bleh. instead, how about some baby chub? everyone loves it. everyone.