Necessary Chocolate

Slightly more cheerful pot pie

Well, I made the biscuits from scratch, and so of course they didn't raise much. It's just that kind of week. But they look a lot more appetizing than the pie crust! I ripped off the crust, stuck the filling back into the oven for 15 minutes, and then put the biscuits on top. Ima Garten suggested brushing the biscuits with an egg wash (1 egg beaten with some water), and so they came out shiny and golden. Flat, but golden. And good enough.

Sad pot pie and music therapy

A friend, who is a music therapist, once recommended that we put together a list of music, starting with sad/angry songs that reflect our worst moods, and working up to happy songs. You listen to the music, in order, and gradually you feel better. Doesn't that sound like an interesting exercise? 

Today, the first song on my list would be Joe Purdy's "Just Can't Seem to Get It Right Today."  I put off buying tickets to Wait Wait Don't Tell Me and now it's sold out. I've gone to bed late, and showed up to work late every day this week (how am I ever going to teach a 5:50am class next fall?). I made sticky buns for a birthday at work, and they were blah. And now, the final blow.

My chicken pot pie looks like that.

It's supposed to look like this. Seriously, I make beautiful pies.

I'm delivering it to an elderly couple; her hip was replaced, and Friday is my turn to take over a meal. Neither of them know me, and certainly won't care if the pie is homely. Nevertheless, I desperately want to swing by the store, buy some canned biscuit dough, rip that crust off, and replace it with the biscuits.  I want to create something beautiful this week.

At least Someone is getting it right:

The crabapple trees at the end of my driveway are blooming, and I can stand under a cloud of pink blossoms.

And sometimes, when I do stand under the blossoms, I want to sing TMBG's "Birdhouse in Your Soul." Or Brian Woodbury's "The Oranges." One of my happy songs.

Saturday mornings vs. Sunday evenings

On Saturday mornings, I believe that I will be a better person all week. My house will be clean, I will wake up early, I will go to work on time, I will finish sewing projects, and I'll eat healthy all week. It's my own little New Year's Day every week. On Saturday morning, I go to the farmer's market and buy great bread and what healthy foods there are. If there are the right flowers, then I'll even be the kind of person who has fresh flowers in the house.

By Sunday evening, I've usually not eaten much of the healthy food. The house is rarely as clean as I'd like; tonight, not clean at all. But tonight I can take solace that I did, at least, manage to have fresh flowers in the house, set on the only flat surface that is clear of stuff.

Aren't they beautiful? Especially the quince (that's what they said it was, anyway):

So, I have the flowers, my concert is over, and Cranford is starting. I'm still the old person, but it's a pretty good ending to the weekend.

My favorite Cranford quote so far: "This is no time for sport! There is lace at stake!"

 

Netflix knows more than I thought

When I signed onto Netflix last week, this was the recommendations window:

Not just "Work and the Glory" -  No, "Work and the Glory III."

For those of you not in on the joke - that's a film based on a series of LDS (Mormon) historical fiction novels. I haven't read them. I'm sure they're great. I admire the author. People I admire like the books. But one of my idiosyncrasies is that I like to separate my fiction from my real life, and so I avoid even good LDS fiction (and trust me, there's really bad stuff in that genre) as much as possible.

I'm still laughing. I guess that anime, Slings and Arrows, and the Preston Sturgess stuff I've rented just don't outweigh Return to Me and all of those PG-rated period dramas.

Choirs

Have I ever mentioned that I'm in a community choir? It's a combination of the Russell Sage College Choir, the St. Augustine Church Choir, some musical types, and me. I've sung with this choir for the last few years, and I've been introduced to challenging music that I wouldn't ever have a chance to sing otherwise.

Tonight we sing Haydn's Creation at the Troy Music Hall, and I can't believe I'm lucky enough to be singing this music.

I love choral music. I love challenging harmonies. And I love recognizing the utter miracle that it is when the piece turns out well. All of the divergent personalities, every level of musical talent, the boring rehearsals - it all works into something amazing. Connie Willis' latest story, "All Seated on the Ground" is all about the accord that can come with singing. I'll have to go to the library and find her quote about church choirs; when I do I'll post it.

I won't be able to sing with this choir again, at least not for a year or two. I'm going to be teaching an early-morning religion class to the teenagers at church come September, and there's no way I can do evening rehearsals. So I'll savor tonight, and hope that I don't come in too early on the last song. Really really really hope.

And the trim on Allison's skirt will be...

Thank you so much for your comments regarding Allison's skirt. It would have helped more if you'd talked to each other first and reached a consensus. But here's the e-mail that I received today:

Allison says blue!!

Decision made.

Tanya asked a while back if I'd show the back of my embroidery. Finally, there was enough sunlight AND I got up early enough to take pictures before work. Here are two of the onesies that I haven't given away: one with bullion knot ducks, and one with split stitch redwork:

And here are the backs:

Not too bad. I don't like carrying threads across, so I try to start and stop every time there's a break. That makes for a neater look, although the thread can build up a bit when I weave the ends under those little bullions.

I use iron-on Touch of Gold interfacing as my stabilizer, but I'm not sure it's the best choice. I like it because it's very soft, lightweight, and it's just temporary, so that when I'm done I can pull it off and trim close to the outside of the design. It tends to fray a bit, though. Maybe I  should try a sew-in non-woven interfacing, and use a temporary fabric adhesive?

The Penderwicks on Gardam Street

Spring sprang very early for upstate New York this year - day after day of gorgeous weather when I just had to be outside and read my outside books. I finished Trollope's "He Knew He Was Right," and moved on to the new Penderwicks book.

And now I'm done. Sigh.

It's much better than the first book - just as old-fashioned and atmospheric, but with better characters and believable adults. The father is particularly likeable this go-round. His desperate attempt to avoid dating is hilarious - although I find it hard to believe that no one in that family has discovered a certain author yet.

One of the girls, Jane, writes a school play that is all too similar to the kind of thing I was doing at that age. In fifth or sixth grade I wrote a play about the Greek Gods, and made my poor classmates perform. I was Apollo, I think, mostly because I had a gold nightgown that was just right for Apollo. Or so I thought.

And then one of the girls dresses as a Greek goddess for Halloween. During that same period of my Greek mythology obsession (no Romans for me, thank you - I was a total snob about only using the Greek names of the gods), I dressed up as Artemis for Halloween. We lived in NY at the time, and my mother made me wear a coat. The year was 1971, and I was a transplanted Californian, so my coat was orange and pink paisley, with white furry trim on the hood and collar. Not, I tried to convince my mother, a coat that Artemis, virgin goddess of the hunt, would wear. It was bad enough that I had to wear a turtleneck underneath the tunic. But since it snowed that night, I had to wear the coat, too.

Oh well. I'm not sure that the blue horn-rimmed glasses added to the costume, either.

Finally - the spring sewing (or, it's decision time again)

I'm sewing again. Time to get those Easter outfits done. First up is an Ottobre skirt for Allison - four layers of skirt, no less:

The pink fabric came from Germany, part of a group buy awhile back and it's the same fabric used in Ottobre. It's lightweight, but with a bit of sturdiness, sort of like a lightweight seersucker. Really perfect for this pattern.

Next I'll add the underskirt and its ruffles. I'm using a simple cotton-poly batiste; the pink fabric doesn't seem to wrinkle much, so why not make at least one easy-care outfit? Or, I could use this pink smocking stripe (also cotton-poly) for the upper ruffle:

Or, I could just use the pink stripe as a trim on the ruffle - maybe my favorite version?:

Or, I could pick up the blues instead with some microcheck gingham:

So which would you choose?

Speaking of gifts

My cousin Marianne, who is smarter than I am, sent me this quote in response to my earlier thoughts on gifts:

"Embedded in the context of exchange, objects become containers for the being of the donor, who freely gives up part of him or herself to another. If the gift is reciprocated, a definite tie is established between partners in the exchange.  Again, this is not a metaphorical tie, for what has been exchanged is real energy:  A small part of my being has been given to another for a small part of his or hers."

(Csikszentmihalyi, Mihaly and Eugene Rochberg-Halton.  The Meaning of Things:  Domestic Symbols and the Self.  Cambridge University Press, 1981,  p. 37.)

It's a lovely thought - but maybe a wee bit too much pressure? No wonder I'm searching for perfect gifts - they have to contain a part of my being, after all.

The last of the shower gifts

After my post about giving gifts, maybe I should dissect my thought process when making a gift. It might amuse you.

While some of you know that I was part of a long-distance baby shower, some of you don't. Now, I can finally confess and say that I was supposed to have sent off a baby gift in NOVEMBER. Yes, November. Of 2007. I guess that's better than if it were due in 2006, but still.

It all started with the pink jumper and the matching onesie. It took forever to settle on that fabric. I just couldn't decide which to use. Turns out, I hadn't bought enough of any of the other fabrics. So there was that decision made. Somewhere between the jumper and the house onesie, I embroidered the Baltimore Oriole, for the little Maryland baby.

Then I was at Purl Soho, where I found some orange Liberty lawn. I knew it would work with brown linen from yet another old pair of pants. And then I found the sweater.

Later, I thought that the carrots, another pattern from The A-Z of Bullions, would be cute.

Then I realized that the new onesies went well with the pink jumper. And that the brown jumper, sophisticated as I might think it is, is made of linen that goes all shiny when you iron it. So I thought awhile. Finally, I finished the brown jumper after all, because it looks cute, even if it's a bear to iron.

Then, when looking for an image for another gift, I came across this cool website, magazineart.org, where you can look at all sorts of great covers from old magazines. And, since the mom and I are both American Girl doll fans, I had to use this image:

When I found the orange striped onesie at Gap, I knew the madness had to stop. So Mary finally has the last of her shower gifts, and I can move on to making Easter dresses. No, make that April dresses, or maybe May dresses...

Birthday treats

As promised, here are some of my birthday treats:

Beautiful salad tongs, books to read - and a coupon for Superbuzzy! I forgot to show the cocoa (Hershey's Special Dark for the World Peace Cookies - I can't get it here) and a new necklace. The books are perfect - nice, old-fashioned sort of stories for an emotional week. The new Penderwick book will be my outdoor book for the spring. Still to arrive - Lois Lowry's "The Willoughby's", which I'm very excited to read. I have such nice parents.

While it's not strictly a birthday present, this treat came yesterday, so I think that it counts:

A co-worker brought me this box from India. She's been visiting her family there, and when she couldn't find enough souvenir Taj Mahals, frantically looked for other presents for the office. It's VERY glittery, with little mirrors and a velvet lining.

And here's the part I like the most: she said that she knew that I liked to sew and make little things, and that this box was to hold some of those little items. Isn't that sweet?

Birthday cake resolutions

This is the last of the lemon cake I made for my 47th birthday on Sunday. Yesterday, someone at the office  said "I hope that you didn't have to make your own cake." Not only did I make my cake, I took it to a potluck lunch at the church, and my friends ate it without knowing it was my birthday.

Obviously, I need to change a few things in my life.

I have a wonderful network of parents, family, and friends who remember my birthday (and, hopefully, whose birthday I remember, too). My network calls me and sends gifts, cards, and e-mails. I'll share in another post the great loot that my parents sent.

But this network, every little bit of it, lives in other states. Some in other countries. All of the local birthday friends (and I mean the friends whose birthdays I remember) have moved away.

So, this next year, I will expand the network. I'm going to calendar some local birthdays. I'm going to call these women and invite them to lunch or dinner or a movie. No more going to Friday night movies with only my sneakers. It's time to be a big girl, and reach out.

And next time my bishop (the leader of my congregation) says he wants to talk to me, I'm going to tell him it's my birthday and he can wait a week before messing up my life with a new assignment.

Of course, I still want my lemon cake next year.