the thing about spring

The thing about spring is that you forget how much you love 65-degrees until you actually have a 65-degree day. The thing about spring is that when it comes around you hold fast to it, because you never know how long it will stick.

Spring is full of paradox, because the warmer temperatures, sun, and fresh air make you want to throw open windows, declutter closets, and deep clean. But it also makes you just want to spend the whole afternoon outside reading.

You realize that you won't have to wear sweaters forever, so you start scheming your spring wardrobe, and if you sew, your project list probably fills up quick with sundresses, skirts, and flowing blouses.

You start swinging by the outdoor furniture section of Target at least once a week and decide to replace that stupid $20 grill with a nicer, albeit still small, $90 one. You remember all those summer recipes you love and plop those in the menu plan.

Even your toddler knows that something is going on, because once you step out the front door, he grabs your hand and takes you to the park around the corner. Because he just knows it's there. And he points to every. single. airplane. he sees in that beautifully cloudless sky.

The thing about spring is that it's lovely. And sunny. And not cold. And not hot. Just lovely.

PS For those wondering about the Albion contest, voting for participants starts today. Only those who entered get to vote. Every entrant gets to vote for their top-five and can't vote for themselves. The winners will be announced next Tuesday! Keep those fingers crossed!

catching the vision

Gracious living is on my mind almost all the time: am I a gracious mother today, a gracious wife, a gracious friend, a gracious sister and daughter? Am I gracious in my church responsibilities, in how I interact with others, especially those who need what I have to offer?

Lately, I've really caught the vision of gracious living: it's an all-encompassing way of life, a way that transforms your heart and person. Living graciously means a dying of self so that we can be remade through the Savior, our ultimate example of graciousness. And all of that giving and focus and sacrifice is really hard. So yes I've caught a portion of the greater vision of gracious living, and yet I sometimes feel so overwhelmed by it. And I feel that now I have a grasp on that greater picture that I have a greater responsibility to live it. Yet living that beautiful vision of gracious living is nigh impossible, for grace is perfect and I am most certainly not.

So I've been trying to find balance: The balance between catering to my introvert spirit and reaching beyond my comfort and energy when needed. The balance between doing all I can to help another and knowing when my offering is enough. The balance between living my best and not stretching beyond what I can do. The balance between doing what God asks of me and running faster than I have strength. The balance between trusting God and trusting myself.

I truly believe that I will be empowered and given unknown energy and strength and capacity when I reach beyond myself to fulfill heaven-sent responsibilities. But how do I know when I need to take that leap and when it's okay to say no and tend to my soul as I see fit? How do I know when I'm being wise or selfish? Those are the questions in my soul of late. And I don't have articulated answers yet. I've been searching and praying and seeking, hoping that my striving heart can find a surer place of understanding in that glorious vision of gracious living.

this week around the house

I finally tidied the sewing room. Just in time for more projects. (See that melted part of my machine? Only one of the many reasons I need to win that Bernina.)

Tuna fish has been the theme of my lunches, alongside a nice cold can of Diet Pepsi.

The laundry has been in limbo between attended to and neglected.

These lovelies arrived in the mail, and I have a few plans for each of them.

These tulips have had a beautiful and graceful run this week.

Thin Mints have been sabotaging my efforts to track Weight Watchers points. I open the freezer and there they are, inviting me to the party. And oh what a tasty party it is.

Right now the weather outside is 60 degrees, and we spent all morning at the park. And when I get the boy up from his nap, we'll probably go hit up another one. Because when it's 60 degrees in March in Portland, you go to the park.

a humble Monday

You guys. I can't even begin to explain how touched I've been with all of the support and encouragement I've received about my jacket. I had no idea the level of excitement I'd see from this space. I've been completely blown away by all the kindness and love and encouragement shown on comments, Facebook, and even texts. Really. I can't even tell you how much all this love means to me.

The deadline for contest submissions is next Sunday, and the finalists will be chosen by the following Tuesday. Because the prize is such a big deal, the only people who get to vote on the finalists will be those who actually entered the contest. Regardless, I am so incredibly touched by everyone who told me they would vote for my entry. I will let you know about finalists next week! Keep those fingers and toes crossed!

So. With that said, I'm heading into this week with an added measure of humility and simplicity. I spent the first chunk of Asher's nap quietly cleaning the kitchen and prepping for dinner. I have no parties to plan or company to host, and I have to say I'm liking the slower pace. I'm taking time to enjoy the smell of this spring rain we've been having the past couple of days, and I'm finding contentment in not having a big project to work on. I'm breathing and living and slowing, and so far it's lovely.

In fact, I might go out and buy some tulips, because tulips sound absolutely perfect right now.

the Albion fledgling jacket

I'm entering a sewing contest to win a Bernina sewing machine, and if you've read any of my recent posts, you'll know that already. And to put this prize in perspective, a Bernina is the Cadillac of sewing machines. You can understand how I'd never forgive myself if I didn't at least enter the contest!

The contest is to sew this pattern (contest details can be found here). I sewed version 2, a lightweight duffle jacket. I found my fabric at Colorado Fabrics in the home decorator fabrics. It's a chartreuse bird-print medium-weight canvas. I love how textured the print is, and the birds remind me of something wild and abstract without being so wild and abstract.

I found the cream toggles on eBay and used orange twill tape for the toggle closures and the drawstring.

Perhaps my favorite part of the jacket is the hood. I wanted to use a knit, and tried thrifting for a large cream cable-knit sweater to use. My search turned up empty, especially when the acceptable sweaters I found were over $10 (way too much for thrifted fabric, when fabric by the yard would be far more economical). Instead I found a lightweight cream knit at the fabric store and cut out two of each pattern piece to make for a heavier overall knit hood. 

I used quilting cotton for the bias tape binding the finishes and installed a zipper to increase the coat's overall warmth.

I really enjoyed this entire project and have already worn my coat out several times! The orange accent in the coat is probably my favorite part. Unless it's the knit hood or the bird print. I'm uploading my entry right now, so send good vibes my way!

the introvert card

Last night after our birthday guests left, Josh and I tumbled on the couch in collective party-stupor. And the clock read only 10:00 p.m. So. We're those friends now.

I spent today winding down from birthday week. Birthday week was delightful, albeit mentally and physically taxing. We had a wonderful time celebrating our newly minted 29-year-old. (Remind me to tell you about that time around Thanksgiving when Josh didn't know that he was already 28. The ensuing crisis was all too funny to behold.) Tonight, Birthday Boy is off doing something adorably nerdy at a game shop, and I get a night alone.

After a week like this one--and really, a month like this one--I am ready to play my introvert card and hole up for the weekend. I have done absolutely nothing productive this evening besides load the dishwasher, and that only made the cut because I pushed off unloading the dishwasher until dinner time. Tonight is not a night for sewing or cleaning or list-making. It's barely the night for blogging. Tonight is the night for Parenthood, stretchy pants, a long shower, some cocoa, a book, and very likely an early bedtime.

So world, I'm playing that introvert card, and in my game it's the trump card. If you want to go and party, then please enjoy yourself. Tonight my party has a guest-list of one, and I'm loving every second of it.

why I like unhappy books

I've mentioned in the past couple of posts that I've been reading a lot this year. I'm on to reading book nine (with book ten almost finished and ready to return to the library and book eleven as my current audiobook). And for 2014 I thought I'd be lucky to get in 25 books. I think I undershot myself on this year's challenge. (Josh even said to me tonight when I informed him of my speedy progress that I am a bad goal maker. I shoot either too high or too low. To my credit, I was right on par with last year's goal of 20.)

With everything I've been reading, I've been thinking about why I read what I do. I have an eclectic reading taste. I enjoy Jane Austen, Leo Tolstoy, Cormac McCarthy, Chaim Potok, George Eliot, John Steinbeck, and Thomas Hardy. I also enjoy Tina Fey, Mindy Kaling, and Agatha Christie. I like young-adult authors like John Green, Robert Cormier, Suzanne Collins, Markus Zusak, and Shannon Hale. I can be persuaded to read almost anything, even Stephen King. And when it comes to Harry Potter, I'm a die-hard.

Some of my bookshelves, unedited

When someone asks me for a recommendation, I have to know at least one thing before proceeding: Do you like unhappy books? I have several friends who don't enjoy reading books about tragedy, loss, or darkness. And that's okay. Everyone reads for different reasons. If you read to be entertained and feel good, then perhaps Jude the Obscure is not for you. But if you're like me, then something like The Road may be right up your alley.

My own motives for reading are diverse: to learn, to relax, to be entertained, to escape. To feel, to experience, to savor the language. I can't experience everything there is to experience in this life, not firsthand anyway. So I read. I read to briefly live others' lives. I read so that I can live my own life better. I read to expand my capacity for empathy. I read because if I didn't, I fear that I'd be missing out on such a beautiful sampling of humanity.

I had a friend a while back ask me if I would write a post about why I read J. K. Rowling's The Casual Vacancy. (It was a post that I think was intended as a guest post on her blog, but I let that ball drop completely. I'm chalking it up to having had a three-month-old at the time.) The Casual Vacancy is a book that received harsh criticism and mediocre reviews. I read it, and I can't say that I loved it. But I didn't hate it either. I'll probably never read it again, but I'm not sorry that I read it in the first place. So here I am, telling you why I finished it and why I like unhappy books.

The Casual Vacancy is a dark book. It's gritty and sometimes icky. I liked maybe two of the twenty-fiveish characters. And yet. That book presented such complex and thorough characters that you couldn't just love them or hate them. That book taught me that everyone is complex, that no one is two-dimensional. The Casual Vacancy is sad, tragic even. It tears at the humanity in your heart and leaves you at the last page feeling raw and unsure. And yet. I walked away from that book needing to be more compassionate, less judging, and more loving to the unlovable. And that, dear readers, is not a bad thing.

In the culture of my religion, we are encouraged to immerse ourselves in uplifting media, to seek media that invites the presence of God into our lives. I can see why some people choose to apply that by reading only that which has a happy ending, and I can't judge them for that. For me, though, I've found that I can feel God just as potently in tragedy as I can in triumph. I understand my faith in unique ways when I read unhappy books. For me, understanding a measure of darkness is essential if I want to understand and choose the light. As incomprehensible as it sounds, unhappy books are good for my soul.*

This post is not passing judgment on people who don't like unhappy books. I say that as long as you're okay with your reading guidelines, then no one should make you feel bad for liking what you like. Just don't let that long-established rubric limit you from books that have the potential to change you for the better.

Do you like unhappy books? Why or why not? What are your reading motives?

*For the record, I read plenty of happy books as well. Especially after finishing heavy books I need something fun and relaxing. After I finished The Stand this week, I promptly dived into an easy romance novel. It was a delight.

a covetous post

Grandma always cautioned against coveting your own things. You may wonder how that could be a thing, but it is. You know how when you covet something you don't have and obsess about how much you want it? You can covet your own things by continuing to be obsessed with how much you love owning it. That's a quandary I find myself in.

Josh gave me this bluetooth speaker for Christmas, and I'm smitten. I carry it around with me everywhere in the house. I use it to listen to music, podcasts, audiobooks, and TV streaming. I can perch it out of the way in the kitchen while I cook or in the bathroom while I do my makeup, or even in my bed when I watch late-night Netflix shows on the iPad. I have to charge it about only once a week, and Josh scored extra bonus points with that orange case. You may think this is a sponsored post, but it's not. I just really, really love this gadget so, so much.

So. Ownership coveting is a thing. And I'm afraid that I've come acquainted with the condition.

Do you own anything you risk coveting? Does ownership coveting make you feel guilty?

withdrawn

My calendar the past couple of weeks has been packed fuller than usual. So I've dealt with that by focusing on input rather than output. I've been reading and reading and just last night finished my Stephen King novel, which blew me away. You can read my review of the book here. The energy that I have had for output--in addition to the energy required for my calendar--I've spent on sewing.

I finished my contest entry and plan on taking pictures for the submission this week. I will certainly share the photos with you! And I have to say that I am thrilled with how this jacket turned out. I'm not always thrilled with my final products, but I am tickled chartreuse with this one. (Catch that little teaser?)

Really the past couple of weeks have been lovely, albeit socially draining for me. I've had a wonderful time chatting with friends, returning childcare favors, throwing a Valentine party, attending church functions, and watching Under the Gunn with the girls. The thing is that after all that, this blogging introvert can't muster the energy to write.

Josh's birthday is this week, and I have just one more sewing project to get in before then. (Details to come after Thursday. You understand.) Perhaps I'll have to dip into my list of post ideas to get this space rolling again, because believe me when I tell you that I love being here and miss it when I'm not.

lately

Our Valentine evening was low-key and lovely. Josh brought home a pizza and we snuggled while watching Monster's University. It wasn't anything to make a movie about, but we liked it. Saturday I went to Fabric Depot with a friend (both of us were kid-less, and it was gold), and we both went a little textile-crazy. It was a delight. And since then I can hardly tell you what I've been doing. The past few days have been a bit of a blur.

I've been reading here and there, sewing a bit, and battling this finicky migraine that pretends to go away but inconsiderately comes back. I'm woefully behind on laundry and though the chore is a necessity my motivation to tackle it is zero compared to how badly I want to sew or read.

When I put Asher to bed tonight, I should have known he wasn't going to go down easy when he playfully growled after the lights went out. When that kid gets wound up he means it.

What has your lately looked like? Mine contains nothing noteworthy, just several little things that are important to just me. You know what I mean?