Yesterday was one of the first gloomy days since we moved to Boulder Creek.  At around 3, I walked outside to get the towels off of the line and was treated to the most amazing experience.

It started raining all around me (Lucky timing with the towels!).  I was sheltered by the trees surrounding our deck, so was completely dry.  I could hear the drops falling on the creek and the leaves in the forest around me, and it sounded like a chorus of quiet crickets.

Our neighbors warn us that the river will rise quite high in the winter.  I can’t get a straight answer as to how far it will rise, so here are some “before” pictures of the view of the creek from our deck.  I’ll check back in mid-january!

The cement piece is a bit of the dam that broke off upstream.  James and I have walked up and down the creek as far as we could without flotation devices, and found a few of these dams.  Apparently, when this was a logging town, the dams were used to hold up water and logs.  When the time was right, the dam would be unblocked and the logs would be sent downstream to the next dam, where the same process would be repeated again.  No fossil fuels necessary, I think this method of transportation was pretty clever.  Now we use giant trucks that guzzle fuel and cough out smog, so the dam lays forgotten in ruins.

The story of how I learned to sew is long and complicated, and is still unfolding.  Throughout my time as a seamstress, I’ve been very promiscuous with my sewing partners, teaching some and always learning.  This post is an ode to my very first sewing buddy, my baby brother Nicholas.

My brother is almost four years younger than me, and is the closest in age to me of all 6 of my siblings (I’m the oldest).  To keep us entertained when we were wee things, my grandmother would give Nicholas and I a needle, thread and small scraps of fabric.  I quickly learned how to tie a knot so I wouldn’t have to ask grandma every time, and Nicholas and I would sew to our heart’s content.  Granted, our initial methods were quite primitive.  Instead of weaving the needle in and out of the fabric, we would pierce through the center of the scraps and treat them like beads.  I distinctly remember Nicholas holding up a long snake of scraps and proclaiming “Look, mama!  I’m going to make you a dress!”  I bet if he had finished that beauty and shown it at Fashion Week, all of the critics would proclaim it “very avant-garde.”

Today is his special day, so happy birthday bro.  Thanks for encouraging my crazy sewing endeavors from the start, and letting me know that in sewing, anything goes. Even crazy fabric-snake dresses.

So has anyone else ever there wrangled their siblings into their crafty projects? Perhaps even from the very beginning?

Inspiration comes to me in the most interesting forms.  Something deeply inspirartional doesn’t usually engage me immediately; it takes a while to sink into my core.  It’s something that sticks with me, that I chew over in my mind for indefinite lengths of time.  Recently, there have been quite a few inspirational tidbits floating around in my mind:

A few weeks ago, I was working at the register, flipping through a magazine when this ad caught my eye:

Too lazy, too scared, it got me down in these bones.  I can’t stop thinking about it, it makes me want to get up and get going!  I didn’t even remember who the ad was for (Piperlime), but the words kept bouncing around in my mind.

I’ve also been thinking a lot about the interview Etsy did of artist Linda Monfort.  The interviewer asked what the name of her memoir would be, and her response has been running through my mind again and again:

“I Used the Gift God Gave Me. I have always known that I was blessed with the wonderful gift of creativity. Even though I sometimes struggled to earn a living as an artist, I couldn’t imagine my life without the ability to create.”

Check out Linda’s shop!

The last bit of inspiration came from a much quarkier place.  I was writing reviews for Bookshop Santa Cruz’s winter newsletter.  Sometimes, the publishers send out an advanced copy of the book, and sometimes they don’t.  In this case, the book had yet to be sent, and I was just reading online reviews and writing about why I was so excited about the book.  The book was “101 Things to Learn in Art School” by Kit White. Her whole book is composed of advice to artists, and the first is “Art can be anything.”  And I’ve heard it a million times.  That along with “be who you are,” etc.  But it just sunk in when I read it from White.

After these three things finally sank in, I thought about who I am in my complete and utter happiness.  It made think again about what I want to do with my life, and it kind of kicked me into action.  I’ve been thinking a lot about what exactly i should take advantage of and what I should do with my carefully earned time.  After these hidden gems, I snapped out of a daze and decided to work really hard at what i love and be completely and utterly happy.  I know everything else will fall into place.

So…I have this bunny…

Her name is Emily Dickinson.  She used to be but a wee thing, but lately she’s been packing it on.  When we moved from our old house (last month), we wanted to build her a bigger hutch, and solve a few cord-biting issues.  It has always been a dream of mine to have a little bunny hopping around me while I sew.  And for a while, she did, and it was great.  I didn’t mind her laying on my patterns.  I didn’t mind her chewing on my scraps.  But I did have a problem when she bit through cords with no mercy!  She’s done some damage to my computer cord and the cord to my iron so far, so naturally I’m feeling quite protective over my sewing machine and serger cords.  So with the help of my accomplice I devised a plan…

On our “staycation” James and I built this beauty.  We were feeling so proud until we tried to fit it into the sewing room and had to cut off the legs to get it in.  But in the end all was well, and I measured perfectly…

Do you see that bunny to sewing maching proximity?!  I can shut her into the cage while I sew and still enjoy her company.