Empty spaces

Sage tagged me to share 5 things about myself that most don’t know. I’ve only thought of 3 so far. Not that I don’t have dozens of eccentricities not often talked about in polite circles but because I have so many — and they all seem so normal to me — that it’s hard to narrow the list to 5.

Instead I find myself, in the waning hours of February 2007, pondering empty spaces …

This is the space where the round table sat. The table we bought when there was a we. It was purchased for a different house. For poker games with the (big) boys and craft projects with the children we might one day have. It moved to a smaller house over three years ago. The dinner table for mother and child. The hub for many an art and craft, which deepened the warm patina. Yet, it was always a little too big. And now it has moved. To the new house of the man who used to be the other half of we. With a few extra dings and a bit of Sharpie pen, the table now begins a new life where I expect many a poker game will be played.

We have lived with the empty space for a month. I had visions of the perfect antique table. If I had more patience, I probably would have found it eventually. But without a table to gather around, meal time was too quiet, hard to savor. So I went with K’s favorite pick from the Pottery Barn catalog. Tonight, we will feast and talk long around our new beachy table that fills the emptiness.

The good life

The good life is the middle way between ambition and compassion

between action and reflection

between company and solitude

between hedonism and abstinence

between passion and judgment

between the cup of coffee and the glass of wine

– Jay McInerney, author Bright Lights, Big City and The Good Life

Plus one

This weekend was a feast for the senses. My dear friend Lauri, with her dear fiance Pat, hosted a sit-down, four-course dinner for 16 as part of a regular dinner group that has been meeting monthly since 1999 to share good food, wine and conversation. To mix things up a bit, February was a “plus one/two” event where each couple in the core group invited another person/couple. I was the lucky plus one for adorable couple Will and Daren, and enjoyed every minute and morsel of citrus-dressed salad, lentil soup, chicken mole and angel food cake. The table was dressed in chocolate brown and French blue with clusters of pink roses down the middle. Gorgeous.

It was simply wonderful to help make guacamole, chatter away for hours and stay up way past my usual “mommy will be woken up too early to stay up late” bedtime. And I got this wonderful present for my birthday … vintage straight pins.

I love them! And since I’ve been sewing a lot lately, they are the perfect gift. With pins in hand, I spent Sunday making handmade gifts for friends and figuring out a tote bag pattern after being inspired by this fabulous blog that I just adore. Now it’s Monday and I’d like to be tucked upstairs, turning fabric into things. But since client deadlines dictate otherwise, I will arrange words on paper instead.

Here I am

It seems I took an unintended blogging break. That darn bronchitis. Now that I’m 95% well, K is sick again. Isn’t that always the way? We are actively combating the continuation of a vicious cycle … I simply refuse to get sick again. Mostly because I’m so tired of it being the primary topic of conversation!

So what else? Much rearranging of the house has gone on over the past few days. After being sick, I either cut off all my hair or rearrange everything I can lift. This time it was the rearranging. Love this new corner …

There’s been a bit of sewing … gotta have a place to put teeth when they fall out don’tcha think? The tooth was inspired by an actual tooth-shaped pillow I saw on one of my favorite blogs. That was the plan but then K found the camouflage fabric, which she adores. So we compromised … camouflage for pillow, cute tooth guy for pocket.

And some great mail, including this old school flashcard with my favorite unhip word from Donna.

Yeah, things are cool!

Milestone

First tooth lost at 6 years, 7 weeks. I remember when it came in at 6 months and a few days. Hard to believe that little tooth has come full circle already. Wow. That’s just about all she could say, wow.

Official diagnosis — bronchitis

I gave in and went to the doctor’s this afternoon. I’m officially sick with bronchitis. Just not sick enough to need medication. Turns out, one needs a secondary bacterial infection … say when the bronchitis gets so bad it morphs into pnuemonia … before antibiotics are prescribed. And really, that’s fine with me. I believe the over-prescription and use of antibiotics has only furthered the development of super bugs and we just don’t need any more of that.

What is so not fine with me is the implication that I really wasn’t sick enough to trouble the poor medical staff in the first place. The nurse was quite skeptical as she listened to my lungs. “All clear. I think you’re doing fine,” she said. “Must have coughed it all up already,” I replied. The doctor said he could “offer me” a breathing treatment. I qualified for that because the air in my lungs measured only 98%. It should be 100% unless you smoke, which I don’t. Where the other 2% went, we don’t know. How breathing in and out of a tube hooked to an incredibly noisy machine would do more than give me a nasty headache was not explained. So I took the treatment, said thank you and dashed out the door. I swear, I heard them laughing at me.

And then I bought cake. Little, cute Valentine’s cakes. I won’t be up to eating them but I had to buy them. Next week, I’m going to have a do-over. It’s going to be my birthday and Valentine’s Day again. Just so I can eat cake!

Even my teeth hurt

According to recent news, the viruses kids bring home are harder on the adults. Apparently the virsuses are more advanced these days, just like the kids themselves. And while their little bodies are building stronger immunities, ours aren’t. Based on my scientific study of 1, this is absolutely true. The bug that traveled from K to me knocked me on my ass. It’s day 6 and I am only starting to turn the corner.

Happily, I was well enough to make K heart-shaped toast and heart-shaped sandwiches to bring to school. I was well enough to enjoy my Valentine story that K made and tucked in a box …

And to pose my twin pitchers so the handles form a heart …

Sadly, I wasn’t able to make my own Valentines this year. But boy do I have ideas for next year!

The flu, a broken water heater and other tales of turning 43 …

… will have to wait until tomorrow. I think the worst is over but the old brain is too full of cotton for coherent thought and full sentences. The water heater guy is here, trying his magic. Oh please, oh please.

For now, I shall leave you with a shot of these gorgeous flowers my little sister sent. All my favorites. Absolutely gorgeous.

Chilblains

That’s the first word that popped into my head this morning when I woke up shivering under a duvet cover and mounds of blankets, goosebumps all over. The dictionary says chilblains are actually an inflammation of the hands and feet cause by exposure to cold and moisture. Let’s broaden this good, old-fashioned word to fit teeth-chattering, blanket-wrapped sickies, shall we?

Being sick is making me acutely aware of the rather odd things I do when I’m unwell, such as:

1. Make and drink coffee even though tea would be better for me. Skipping my morning coffee ritual (unless I’m actually sick to my stomach) makes me worse. I swear!

2. Get rid of the leftovers in the fridge. Anything that we ate before I got sick has to go.

3. Eat soup and pancakes and saltines. Not usually together. I take turns.

4. Take a shower and get dressed. Even though staying in jammies seems like a better choice, I cling to the hope that showering and dressing will trick the sick bugs into leaving.

5. Think of wildly ambitious craft projects and then try to start them. Never a good idea. Just like typing when my brain is foggy.

6. Try not to take medicine. Even when my head is pounding and coughing becomes violent. Airborne is OK and Chestal (a homeopathic cough medicine), but I hold out until I’m desperate before swallowing Tylenol or Motrin.

7. Want my mom. Seriously.

What do you do when you’re sick?

Saturday and other s words

The “sicks” as we call them around here hit full force last night. Along with a big rain storm. Everyone says we need the rain but no one wants it. We wish for Spring and sun. Instead the gray-turned world matches how we feel. Shaky, slow. Still, there are sparkles to be found …

The little sculptor

And sweet butter on baguettes

A fire in the fireplace. Snuggling under blankets. Sewing little things. Saturday.