Le Quilt (aka. The Father's Day Project of Epic Proportions)

So, said the cat in the hat. So, so, so...

As promised, here are some pictures (as modeled by the small girl, who can never resist a camera lens anywhere in the vicinity) of the quilt I made for my beloved Baba for father's day, the secret project that has taken up so much of my time lately. You see, I wasn't making it up, I really was busy.

I made it using the Folk Dance Quilt pattern by Anna Maria Horner, and I love the geometric-ness of it. As a virgin quilter, it was a daunting project, but manageable. Very much a case of one step at a time.

It was machine stitched, hand quilted, and is made from 100% natural fibres. The middle of the quilt sandwich (anyone who knows the proper term for this, do please let me know - I have no knowledge in this area whatsoever) is a lightweight bamboo batting, machine washable, tumble-dryable, and perfect for snuggling up on mild summer evenings.

And so, 234 pieces, 13 yards of fabric, 60 hours of sewing, and thousands upon thousands of loving stitches later - the result is one very heartfelt gift, for one very special man.

And this is the man himself. Happy father's day, Baba. I love you xx

Welcome to the Factory

It seems that my house has metamorphosed into a production line. These thirty stripy little flags are all part of the Grand Transformation of Ruby's room. They were rapidly – as opposed to beautifully – sewn, but, since I am shortsighted and she won't care, I figured it doesn't matter too much.

The Grand Transformation is more significant than a string of bunting, but you don't get to see the other bits yet. Partly because it would spoil the surprise, but mostly because the small girl is asleep, and I don't think that going into her room, turning on the lights and taking a bunch of pictures would be particularly conducive to that continuing.

Incidentally, sewing diagonal seams on vertically striped fabric is curiously counter-intuitive, like steering into a skid. You really have to overrule your natural instincts.

Children's Museum of the Arts NYC

The CMA is one of our absolute favourite places in the city.

It's a non-profit organisation whose mission is "to extend the benefits of the arts to all children and their communities and to secure the future of the arts by inspiring and championing the next generation of artists and art lovers."

Ruby simply knows it as "The Art Place."

She begs to go there nearly every day, which pretty much sums up how brilliant it is.

Check out the website, and if you ever get the chance, don't pass up the opportunity to visit.

Happy little Wild Thing.

Happy Mother's Day

It's funny being abroad for Mother's Day. I spoke to my mum on skype last night, and she emailed this morning to say that the present I sent her had arrived. I got flowers from Ruby via my parents in the UK and the marvels of the internet, which is pretty cool. On the whole though, it has to be said that without a father around to implement it (and with the rest of your family in different time zones), Mother's Day may as well be any other Sunday until your offspring are at least approaching double figures.

Between the rain and the stinking cold that we are both incubating (I smugly thought I had escaped the evils of this particular one that Ruby has been carrying snottily around all week, but, alas, how the mighty have fallen) we never even made it outdoors. There were tears and tantrums, not just hers. We did get our acts together in the end though, and did some rainy day crafty things, turning a cereal box into a television with the aid of sugar paper, sequins, feathers and lolly sticks. So that's something.

Oh, and the $5 flowers I got from Trader Joe's last week have rather surpassed themselves. Not just the hyacinth-and-narcissus combo I had initially suspected. Between those and the lovely pink roses from my parents, I'm not doing too badly for flora.

Playing the Glad Game

This week (well, the last seven days, since this week is only two days old) has been trying. Ruby's selective deafness has increased, her apparent need/desire for sleep has decreased. The sleep deprivation has had a negative effect on my tolerance levels for the selective deafness, and that combined with a notable lack of interaction with adult humans has left me feeling a more than a little irritable.

In light of these circumstances I have decided to be Pollyanna this evening and play the Glad Game, so, rather than dwelling on the things that are not so great, these are the things that I am glad about....

I am glad that spring is here.

I am glad that it's warm enough for Ruby to

play outside with bare legs.

I am glad for paper and paint and blu tack and a great

big wall of the small girl's art.

I am glad for good food (and a little proud of the fact that I have survived for five months with no bigger pans than this one).

I am glad for the small girl who can always make me smile

even when I am decidedly annoyed with her.

I am glad for the strange wall of brightly coloured religious art of

which I have finally become quite fond.

I am glad that the aforementioned small girl is finally, angelically asleep.

I am glad for wine and chocolate.

And I do feel better after that. Maybe Pollyanna was onto something.