the dotted line

a heavy heart + a request for help

since waking to the news of the earthquake and tsunami in japan on friday morning, my heart has been heavy. i'm in a state of shock and disbelief, stunned by the force mother nature has thrust upon on our world. i am deeply saddened by the loss of life, livelihood and sheer devastation that the people of japan are facing. it's been hard to stop thinking about it. in fact, i'm not sure i have stopped thinking about it since seeing those first video clips early friday morning. the fragility of life. this time a much more poignant and significant reminder than the last reminder. my goodness. there are just no words.

but.

if there are no words, then perhaps action may be a better method of expression? i have been desperately trying to think of a way to contribute to the relief effort, with the idea that the smallest action may make a difference, even if it is only a minuscule one. at first, i thought a personal donation to the canadian red cross would be my action of choice. and then i wondered if perhaps i could do this, as well as something more. here is my idea for the something more. {and pretty please, bear with me! i have never, ever done something like this before and my confidence has waxed and waned all day about whether or not this will work}

the 'one thousand wishes :: one thousand dollars' project.

strangely enough, the night before the earthquake and resulting tsunami struck the coast of japan, ella and i had been looking at the pictures in her book, sadako. i bought this book for ella a couple of months before she was born, from the japanese american national museum in los angeles. i treasured this story when i was growing up and i wanted her to have a special copy all of her own. she is still too little to understand the story, so we just look at the pictures and talk about paper cranes and the message of hope, peace and recovery they bring to people who are unwell or facing adversity. she is fascinated by the strands of paper cranes we have displayed in our studio, she loves to touch them and chatter away about their pretty colours and fluttering wings. our studio is also home to a beautiful collection of silk-screened chiyogami and handmade tissue papers, as well as an array of untouched japanese fabrics and washi tape. many plans are enveloped within these items. plans that will come to fruition soon. but in the meantime, some of them can be spared for a cause close to my heart. and now, finally, the idea. i'm hoping to open an online pop-up shop to sell some of these beautiful papers, fabrics and tapes. all proceeds will be donated to the canadian red cross japan earthquake and tsunami fund. during the 2010 haiti earthquake and a few other international disasters, the canadian government pledged to match canadian donations, dollar for dollar. i'm not sure that this will happen this time, but it may. so i have chosen the canadian red cross for this reason, as well as to ensure the funds raised will provide direct relief to the people of japan. i also plan to contribute some handmade items to be sold in the pop-up shop. i would love to have a selection of handmade items, art prints or photos from others, too. i will try to work on this over the next couple of days. the goal is to raise one thousand dollars, if not more.

now, the second part of the project. heartfelt wishes and peace spring from the wings of a thousand cranes. a beautiful sentiment. according to ancient japanese legend, folding one thousand cranes makes a wish come true. while financial aid is no doubt the most meaningful contribution those of us who live so far away can make, there is also something to be said for helping the human spirit overcome the most dire of situations. so i'd like to send a message of hope, peace and recovery to those affected by this crisis. i'd like to send them one thousand wishes in the form of one thousand paper cranes. for every $5 spent in the pop-up shop, i will make a paper crane. i will also make strands of cranes that can be purchased through the shop. when one thousand has been reached, the strands will be assembled to create a wall-hanging that will to be sent to japan. i will also make an extra paper crane to send to each person who makes a purchase or who donates an item. a small keepsake to say 'thank you'. it will take some time to get everything into place. so i will update you soon. in the meantime. i'm not very good at asking for help, but this is one time that i'm going to stick my neck out and say 'please help!'. you can help by:

:: sending me an email with advice or thoughts on how to make this better ::

:: donating a piece of artwork to be sold in the one thousand wishes shop ::

:: contacting someone you know that may be able to help ::

:: spreading the word on your blog once the shop is up ::

:: maybe even buying something once the shop is up ::

:: i'm sure i'm missing something, so anything else you can think of! ::

i now realize that perhaps a photo of paper cranes would do this post more justice than one of glass hearts. when i started conjuring up this post, i was thinking about the fragility of life. fragile, like glass. and the colours. green for the land. blue for the water. the two parts of nature that have clashed in such a devastating manner. the symbolism of the heart. full of love and emotion. essential to life. strong. a force to be reckoned with.

a lot of this

this place has seen a lot of action lately. sleeping. cuddling with sam. resting. reading. 38 issues of 'selvedge'. cuddling with ella. sleeping. curling up with bailey. bedtime stories. making nests. feeding sam. email checking. sleeping. watching 'tinkerbell' five times. making plans for a trip. to maui. whispering. tea parties. marshmallows. knitting. photo editing. watching the office with j. sleeping. sleeping. sleeping.

i have never, ever spent so much time in bed before. but this past week, it has been unavoidable and so very necessary. and without wanting to sound crazy or over-dramatic, i can't help but feeling that it's changed my life a little. last sunday i was rushed to the ER with a terrible case of food poisoning {that or the worst stomach bug ever...ick}. i became very dehydrated, very quickly. for twelve hours i was pumped full of IV fluids, 7 bags in total. i was given all kinds of medication and was sent home. the ER i went to is the busiest in the city. i saw a lot of things that scared me. i left feeling pretty rough and totally naive, shocked at the incidence of violent crimes, substance abuse, spousal abuse, child abuse and elder abuse, never mind the steady stream of heart attacks and car accidents. i got home, very gingerly had a hot shower and then collapsed on our bed, cuddling ella and sam with all the strength i had left in my body. j gave sam a bottle. i fell asleep, clinging to ella. i woke up at 3 am. with crushing chest pain, barely able to breathe. i called our medical hotline and was instructed to attend a clinic in the morning. i was seen immediately at the clinic. an ambulance was sent. but it turned out to be faster for us to drive ourselves. this time a quieter ER, in the south of the city. full of elderly people from the neighbouring nursing homes. i was immediately hooked up to an IV. i was given three shots of morphine for the pain. it didn't help. my blood pressure was extremely low and my pulse was extremely fast. my kidneys threatened to fail. my blood work showed a possible pulmonary embolism. three ekgs. a chest x-ray. and a ct scan. in quick succession. i'm not quite sure this would have been considered a life threatening situation, but with the doctor's hushed voices and quick actions, i could tell it was close to being very serious. i was there by myself and started to worry about not seeing ella and sam. i asked the nurses to call home. no one answered. two nerve-wracking hours of monitoring passed. j finally arrived. i dissolved into his arms. the doctor came 10 minutes later. the ct scan was clear. no pulmonary embolism. just a severe case of costochondritis and extreme dehydration. caused by being so violently ill. the relief. the RELIEF. my goodness. to say i was elated is an understatement. apparently the pain of severe costochondritis mimics that of a heart attack, but while very painful, it is so, so much better than the alternative. and for that, i am so, so thankful. after several more hours of treatment, i was sent home with a package of strong painkillers, a sigh of relief and a stinging awareness of the fragility of life. so once again, i collapsed on our bed with the children in my arms, holding them close, breathing them in. 

since last tuesday, i have spent every day in bed. sleeping, resting. enjoying brief non-medicated moments with ella and sam. having tea parties. watching movies. eating marshmallows under the covers. and taking some moments to create. a few rows of knitting. a couple of photos edited. small, tiny steps. i am overwhelmed by the desire to be more mindful. of my surroundings. of my life. of the people i love. i am physically and emotionally exhausted. but my heart is full. and the fog is lifting. there is an energy, that i haven't felt in a very long time, rising within me. making me want to be more. do more. see more. feel more. i know, i say it all too often, i have plans. or maybe they are just dreams. whatever they are. i am excited about them. i just realized. i feel excited again. it's been a long time. eek. i didn't mean to sound so cheesy in this last paragraph. so, a disclaimer. i'm going to blame it on the painkillers. and a lack of better words.

i'm thinking i'll be resting quite a bit over the next couple of weeks, so maybe that will translate into some more posts and photos, and hopefully they will be more creative and less, ahem, cheesy, than this one. fingers crossed.

{the beautiful quilt above is purl's colour wheel quilt and was made by my very talented mother-in-law. the woollen blanket is from avoca, a cherished birthday gift from my mum. i used the 'lux' photoshop action from here to process the photos - i love how this action makes the colours in the quilt and blanket 'pop' - the yellow-ness is growing on me, i think}

the book

this is much later than i planned. so much has happened. so little has actually been accomplished. other than this book. and a whole lot of baby cuddling. we'll save that for another time, though. for now, the book.

it arrived in time for christmas. it is imperfect, but perfect at the same time. a missing page in one of the copies and the tips of some of the letters are white {my fault}. blurb sent a new one to replace the one with the missing page. it arrived by fedex two days later. so impressed with their customer service. and i have figured out what i did wrong with the weird font issue. 

finally. a few moments to photograph it. and taking photos of a book? much harder than i thought. these don't really do it justice.

ella and daddy. the week sam was born. ella becoming a big sister. but still being so little.

some of my favourite photos of ella's first year. because i haven't printed any of them. and i can't wait for the perfect moment any longer. let go of wanting everything to be chronological and just put them in. that's what i told myself. and it totally worked.

my father-in-law holding sam for the first time. on the day he was born.

k is for kisses. that was the idea behind this page. my favourite kissing photos. daddy and ella. daddy and one-week old sam. the text reflects just how these photos make me feel ::

these moments are what it's all about / the love between parent and child / whether the child has been in your life for just a week or almost three years / it is there, instantly and unconditionally / a beautiful thing indeed

some of my favourite photos of ella and i in scotland. i remember it like it was yesterday. our hair in the blustery wind. the sunshine on our faces. the waves crashing on the shore. the chill in the air. the pink bunny rabbit hat. the cuddles. the feeling that i was finally settling into my role as a mama. most importantly, the love. 

naptime. sam asleep at 6 weeks. ella, the week before she stopped napping altogether. i was six months pregnant. that was our last nap together. i wish i would have known at the time. i would have cuddled her a little closer. and breathed her in a little more.

and sam. my sensitive, cuddly wee man. also nick-named mc-drooly pants.

celebrating my birthday. here. it was perfect. 

birthday snowball fight at lake louise. so. much. fun. and this girl? she throws a mean snowball. just like her daddy.

the inner sleeve. the two photos that looked the most like ella and sam when i finished the book. the two photos that i really want to have printed and framed. because they so completely reflect who these two are. 

the back cover. a mosaic of photos of our past year. using this template. scaled down in photoshop. and our message to our families who received the book for christmas.

i used these templates for two or three of the pages. and a few of these ones. and a couple of others, too.

this font for the titles. and this font for the text.

if you'd like to see more of the book, please leave a comment or send an email and i will send you a link to the blurb preview. i know the preview can be embedded within a blog post. but...i'm nervous about putting this out there. it was such a personal project for me. and after getting some very strange comments while i was expecting sam, i'm a little wary about putting all 180 pages on the internet for all to see. so, i hope this is okay. i'd still love to share it with you. just not quite so out in the open. 

these two

....are keeping me very busy these days. over the past month, ella has grown up at an alarming rate - she's had an explosion of new vocabulary and developed the ability to string longer and longer sentences together, she's grown out of all of her clothes, she dresses herself {and mummy can no longer pick out her clothes without a struggle...hmmm...two going on fourteen!} and she's now reliably toilet trained. she's incredibly independent...within moments, she has made herself 'a snack', brushed her teeth and made bailey pretty {read: pushed a chair over to the counter or pantry, taken out whatever she can reach, combined it in a bowl with any available liquid and called it 'a snack', smeared half a tube of toothpaste all over her face and painted the dog}. so with a sensitive little baby like sam, who still cries quite a lot and absolutely must be cuddled at all times or the world will come crashing down, ella has learned to pick just the right moments {read: whenever baby sam cries} to exercise her newfound independent ways...despite being left with lots of interesting messes to clean up, i'm finding it pretty adorable to find her dressed in stripy grey leggings, a paul frank t-shirt and a sage green tutu, oh, and not to forget the pink bucket on her head, eating a carrot and a cucumber stolen from the fridge under our dining table, saying 'ribbit, ribbit' because apparently frogs need carrots and cucumbers to grow up into 'big frogs'. it must be beautiful to live with such abandon, surrounded by magic and wonder...what an escape it would be to go back in time and spend a day as a two and a half year old!

although my days are largely spent cleaning up messes and cuddling with my little sam, i have been very strict with myself and have stolen a couple of moments here and there to create a photobook on blurb. this is something i have always wanted to do. for a long time i have been completely overwhelmed with the thousands and thousands of photos that we have sitting on hard drives and the thousands of negatives sitting in boxes. so instead of waiting for the perfect time, the perfect album design, the perfect system of organizing, archiving and retrieving images, the perfect theme and structure for the book, i decided to jump right in, one page at a time. i knew i wanted to focus on photos from 2010 - the stories behind them are still, for the most part, fresh in my mind and they were still stored in my iphoto {meaning i only needed to delve into the scariness of our archive drives once}. i also knew i wanted to learn more about photoshop during this process, so i used it to create each of the pages - i still have so much to learn, but i really loved figuring it out as i went. i initially intended for this book to reflect upon our entire year, organized chronologically and in keeping with my design sensibilities. i quickly discovered that this was an undertaking far more extensive than i have the time or attention span for these days, so i settled on making an 80 page 'alphabet' book - a selection of photos relating to each letter in the alphabet. i also decided to be a little more flexible with the aesthetics of it all, too - instead of sticking to a rigid structure consisting of completely self-designed pages, i created two page spreads to match each other using a combination of purchased layered templates {to save time} and self-designed pages, without worrying about how the next two pages would fit in. surprisingly putting my perfectionist tendencies to the side actually worked for me and i finished creating the last spread last night. i'm totally exhausted now and so not looking forward to uploading 160 PDFs today, but after all this work, i am determined to complete it NOW, in the hopes we'll have it by christmas to share with family and friends. so with that, no more procrastinating! i shall post some of my favorite pages in the coming days...and photos of the printed book when it arrives...can't say how nice it feels to have completed something. 

thermis

first, a thank you for all of the sweet comments of congratulations left here upon sam's arrival, they truly mean so much to me. we are slowly coming out of many weeks of inconsolable crying {sam} and difficulties breast-feeding {me} and are finally, finally finding our rhythm as a family of four. our little sam was 'diagnosed' with colic at six weeks, after spending many hours each day crying and screaming inconsolably - we tried so very hard to comfort him in every way possible, without much luck. our doctor told us he would eventually grow out of it. just last week, after two trips to the emergency room at the children's hospital, we discovered that his distress is actually being caused by a sensitivity to iron. although we had tried several different formulas while struggling to breast-feed, we had not tried a low-iron one. now, after a week of low-iron formula, we have our happy, cuddly little son back. i've even had time to finish this, during a rare moment of quiet, creative time. admittedly, i have gotten a little carried away with the idea that this won't be such a rare occurrence any more and have started to revisit my many {many, many, many} creative plans...first up, a blurb book, inspired by this and this...and with that, nap time is over and I have a hungry little son to feed. he's actually hungry, such a good thing after many weeks of worry!

where to start

eek. i'm not sure where to start. it has been an{other} embarrassingly long time. it makes me cringe when i think about it. in fact, i'm starting to think i should add a disclosure to the side bar - 'please expect me to completely disappear within weeks of getting pregnant and not return until said pregnancy is over and a little baby is snuggling soundly in my arms'. needless to say, pregnancy and i - we just don't mix. the moment the nausea sets in, well, life comes to a standstill and i am transformed into a person that i can hardly recognize. whatever shards of creativity that exist within me are leached from my system instantly. everything that makes me who i am is neglected in the chaos of trying to get through each day with enough sustenance to allow me to just barely function. this time though, we also faced loss, a strange and confusing kind of loss. we were having twins and later found out that one of the babies had miscarried. sadness for the loss of one baby was complicated by relief and happiness for the survival of the other. knowing that in the end, the outcome would be the same as what we had expected when we first found out i was pregnant - one happy, healthy baby - was a confusing thought to come to terms with. eventually my life became consumed by caring for ella. making sure she was nurtured and loved and safe and healthy. making sure we made it through the day until daddy came home, when i inevitably collapsed in an exhausted heap, cherishing the thought that i was one day closer to meeting my little son.

but now? now i have my sweet little sam safe and sound in my arms. all is well again. i am recovering from the c-section, the unexpected post-operative infection and the many months of hyperemesis gravidarum. i am desperately trying to breast feed {a soft spot for me, especially after my experience with ella} and struggling to re-establish my milk supply after the treatment of the post-op infection. i am finding balance with two little ones to care for, ensuring that our days are filled with cuddles and sweet moments together, leaving the cleaning and mountains of laundry to be done just before bed. i am happy and content and completely in love. so far, history doesn't seem to be repeating itself. and for that, i am so very thankful. i am also so very thankful for this lovely little boy who has brought so much happiness and made our small family feel complete in ways i never imagined were possible.

samuel murray - july 3, 2010 - 1:54 am 

 and the creativity...it, too, is slowly creeping back into my life, in the spaces between the cuddles and the sweet moments. revisiting plans from before. dreaming up new plans. being inspired. in fact, just being. i kind of missed myself. 

please be patient with me while i find my feet again in this space...

home

[first, thank you for all of your sweet comments and emails, they mean so much to me...]

::scenes of soho, both taken by my husband::

I've been home from NYC for some time now and I'm shocked it's taken me so long to finally finish this post. When we got back we had to deal with some complications with our 'littlest one', and after many tears, far too much talking with doctors and family, in addition to the severe nausea and sickness that plagues me, I'm feeling drained and not quite myself, but okay.

New York, however, was fantastic. it was wonderful to spend time, just the two of us, visiting with friends, eating good food, seeing the sights, shopping, reconnecting with each other, realizing that we are the same in so many ways - admittedly, we missed our little girl so much that we spent those elusive hours before sleep looking back over two years of photos and videos of her, all teary-eyed and gushy.

We stayed at my husband's aunt's apartment in Soho - little did I know that she lives just one block from Purl and Purl Patchwork. Yes, I squealed with excitement when I realized this. And yes, this also caused me to spend far too much money. Not to mention the fact that it is next door to a wonderful little bakery, Once Upon A Tart, which has the loveliest chocolate and walnut tarts. And just a couple of blocks away from Dean and Deluca. And a ten minute walk from Magnolia. Now that I think about it, even with all of the nausea and sickness, we had a lot of fun eating...all of these, except Billy's Bakery, were just a few minutes away from the apartment which made it even better - it's bad enough being cranky, pregnant and sick without being hungry, too!

Dos Caminos Soho {the best guacamole ever followed by honey roasted pork with mole sauce and sweet potato mash} 

Kelley and Pings {salt + pepper shrimp, thai chicken curry, roasted tilapia with baby bok choy - everything I was craving, all at the same time}

Cubana Cafe {roasted red snapper with spicy mango salsa, whipped plantains and roasted corn with chipotle mayo and cotija cheese - and they made me non-alcoholic mojoitos, which made my night}

Lupa's {homemade lemon soda, spaghetti con aglio, olio, pomodoro and peperoncino - simple and yummy - but in my eyes nothing beats Italian food in Italy}

Noho Star for brunch {bruschetta of soft scrambled eggs with roasted tomatoes, goats cheese, drizzled with fresh pesto - yum}

Billy's Bakery {the chocolate cake with vanilla icing made this cranky pregnant person with tired feet very happy indeed} 

We also went to see the Tim Burton exhibit at MoMA which would have been amazing but it was so, so busy that we could barely see anything - I bought the catalog though, as well as his new book so that I can try to make sense of the little glimpses that we did get. And of course, all of the other typical NY things to do...

Today, I am quietly putting the finishing touches on my package for the holiday traditions exchange so soon I'll be able to share it with you...

love, lollipops, crochet and...

a little surprise.

I've been feeling quiet lately. Some wonderful things have been happening, but all of the excitement has left me short on words. Overwhelmed. And craving some quiet time. To knit. And think. The knitting is slow, just a row every now and then. Its stitches are dark and elusive, refusing to be photographed, so soft and so light, yet laced with thoughts and feelings that will be forever held within its fabric. It seems there is a pattern emerging. Do you remember what happened the last time I started to knit for myself? Well, although it is very early still, history is repeating itself. But this time I can keep knitting. After all, what would be better to caress a baby bump than an ever-so-soft and light-as-a-feather cardigan? 

{love}

Ella fills our hearts with so much love each and every day. We just can't get over what an amazing little person she is becoming. It was only a matter of time before we would start to think that maybe, just maybe, we should do it all over again, right? Due to my family history, as well as some of my own health concerns, we've always known that if we wanted to have children, we would have to have them in quick succession. It took us just over a year to conceive Ella, so we weren't quite planning to have {a little surprise} only a month after thinking we should definitely do this all over again. But there you go. Life works in the most mysterious ways. The timing is a little crazy, because I have some other very exciting things happening, too, but I am embracing the spontaneity. Even if it is making me somewhat overwhelmed and at a loss for words.

{lollipops}

Ah. Lollipops. My salvation. You may remember that I had severe all-day-and-all-night sickness the first time around. It seems as though the same will be true this time. Although the much cooler weather here is making it a lot easier to cope with, feeling perpetually nauseated and barely keeping any food down is getting old. Very quickly. I am surviving on a mix of saltine crackers, crystallized ginger, lemon water, diclectin and gravol, both on doctor's orders. Strangely enough, lollipops are the only thing that seem to keep the nausea at bay. But I am running out. Fast. The only ones we had in the house were from my grandfather - he gave them to Ella when he saw her last, but she is still so little, so I've been saving them for her. Until now. Now, they're almost all gone. Shocking, since I very rarely eat sweets {but when faced with debilitating nausea or all of my teeth falling out, my pregnancy-logic dictates that a visit to the dentist is much more enjoyable than being slung over a toilet seat 24/7}. So i have been searching for a new supply of lollipops. And all I can find are the icky, syrupy, too colorful, too sweet ones. The ones my grandfather gave us came in three flavors - coke with lemon, cherry vanilla and apple mango - and inside is a swirl of fizzy powder, which provided just the right amount of sourness to combat the nausea. They were perfect. But I can't seem to buy them anywhere.

{crochet} 

Not only do I need a supply of lollipops, but I also need someone to teach me how to crochet. Now. Really. Now. For so long I have admired these beautiful crocheted blankets...

sandra juto

yvestown

{and lots more, but since it is midnight, I will link to them another time}

...and now that I have another little one coming along, who will no doubt be taking over the crib, I'd really like to make a special blanket for Ella's first bed. There are the beginnings of a tutorial that I'd really like to follow, but I haven't the faintest idea how to crochet. I'm not sure if 'teaching myself to crochet' can quite fit on my already over-loaded list of things to accomplish, but as the nesting urge grows stronger it will no doubt climb the list very quickly. Unless I can find someone to teach me, in which case, I will drop everything. 

Everything but the search for lollipops.

Next time I hope to have captured those dark and elusive stitches so I can show you just how soft and lovely this cardigan is turning out to be...and perhaps a couple of glimpses of all these exciting things that are yet to be revealed... 

all grown up

Well, not quite all grown up, but she's definitely not so much of a baby any more. 

She changed so much last week. I can't quite get my head around it yet. She is becoming so independent, yet she's also affectionate in a deliberate way {when it suits her, of course!}. She says 'I love you' {more like 'yuv you'} and 'No, Mama, don't! ' {with perfect pronunciation - can you guess which one she says more often?}. She tries very hard to dress herself. And insists on wearing sunglasses inside. She also has a tattoo. A temporary one. From the day she spent in childcare last week. And she has painted finger nails and toe nails. From when Daddy was baby-sitting and let her play with my make-up bag. She had her hair cut at a salon for the first time, after I butchered it and inadvertently gave her a mullet. She has started to sleep so much better. Which makes me very happy. She carefully selects and reads fives books before going to sleep each night. She recognizes when she's tired and asks to take an afternoon nap. She only eats very flavorful food...sushi, vietnamese, dim sum, curry. She chose to eat a ladybug over the very yummy macaroni and cheese casserole that I made her for lunch the other day. I'm trying not to think of what that means about my cooking. She is obsessed with her new Charley Harper puzzle and yesterday spent four hours straight taking each one out and fitting it back in. The temper tantrum that ensued when she had to stop for dinner was not pretty. Needless to say she didn't eat any dinner and instead worked on her puzzle, then collapsed in an exhausted heap. She is also quite obsessive about writing. She likes to draw, with pencils and crayons and chalk, but when it comes to writing, she MUST use a pen. I didn't know that at 21 months there would be a difference between drawing and writing, but there is. Her drawings are bright, full of squiggles and swirls and are added to all day long. The sheets of paper migrate from the floor to the table to her desk to my desk. Her writing however, is very intense - small dark markings, deliberate strokes, all in black pen. She lies on the floor, hunched over her paper, her face almost touching it and she fills the page with markings for at least half an hour. This was on my desk this morning. 

Despite her intensity when it comes to certain things, she is such a lovely, funny, sweet little girl who steals my heart each and every day. And with her increasing independency, life is getting a little easier. There are more moments in the day. I can be more deliberate in how I spend my time. And with the onset of cooler weather, the desire to sit with hot tea and some knitting has been creeping into my heart. I even made an appearance on ravelry for the first time in a very long time, added far too many projects to my 'must knit' list {as always} and after seeing this {so beautiful!}, I thought that maybe I should start by making my idea of the perfect cardigan. Sheer. Black. 3/4 length sleeves. For layering with. And for cuddling in. I discovered this amazing project. Became inspired. Ordered a kusha-kusha scarf kit to satisfy the craving of working with Habu again. I also decided to take a leap into the unknown and go ahead with something that is just as exciting as it is nerve-wracking to me. But if it works, it will allow me to stay at home with Ella and surround myself with all the things I love. To distract myself from thinking about it, I booked a trip to New York to celebrate our birthdays at the end of this month. So yes. These moments have been productive, inspiring and sometimes creative...catching my breath, being deliberate and watching this girl grow. So wonderful.

snow day

Forgive me. 

I couldn't stop at just one. Or two. 

Although slightly embarrassed that Ella looks like a walking advertisement for babyGap*, I love every single one of these shots. This was just one of those days full of unexpected, beautiful moments. A day where no plans were made. A day where the list of things to do was completely ignored. A day of throwing snow, eating snow and rolling in snow. A day of baking bread and biscotti and then falling asleep each others arms, bathed in the late-afternoon sunshine that streams through our living room window. A day without crying, temper tantrums and uneaten meals. A day that was all about smiling and cuddling and laughing and tickling and loving. A day that brought sheer delight. To both of us. A day that needed to be captured and savored. 

*It's not that I have anything against BabyGap, it's just that I don't think Ella has ever worn an entire outfit from there. Ella's wardrobe is very modest and is a mix of handmade items, select pieces from small independent designers {our favorite local shop is Purr Petite}, and some staples from H+M {favorite black and charcoal leggings, simple cardigans}, plus a couple of things from babyGap and the Joe line from a national supermarket. I try to be selective about the clothes I buy for Ella, financially as well as aesthetically - black leggings, a simple cotton top or dress with a hand-knit cardigan is a favorite outfit in our house...comfortable, cozy and not too 'sugary'. Of course I would love for Ella's wardrobe to be full of handmade pieces. Looking back, I thought about this a lot, but somewhere between the complicated pregnancy, emergency c-section and feeling so blue for months afterwards, I lost sight of this and never quite got around to making any of those plans a reality. I'm thinking of revisiting those plans soon. Starting with a hat and mitttens in the color of crushed blackberries, if such a yarn exists anywhere outside of my own head...

**On a completely unrelated note, does anyone else find it extremely creepy that the street view on Google Earth has become so advanced that you can see through the windows of houses? Last night we were looking up directions to a local business, and just for kicks clicked on the street view of our house - the 360 photo was so detailed that you could see our computer through the window of our studio as well as through the windows of our bedroom. I'm not sure what to think of this. It does make me feel quite uncomfortable, though. Not to mention worried about what the future holds...