More recycling
I came across the tutorial for this craft bucket via "Whip up" a few months ago and was so delighted that finally I had the perfect project for those old torn jeans I've been saving.
Who saves old ripped jeans? Me. Because, I don't know, I just love the way jeans look... it's also a lot of heavy sturdy fabric and it feels funny just throwing them out. So I keep them because I don't know what to do with all of our sprawling 900+ square feet! Anyway, once I started I thought I'd make three, because I had three pairs of jeans and because, why not? So much fun. It's quite easy to make. If you are not interrupted 23 times, you could do it in less than a couple of hours.
This one I made first and immediately stuffed it with my current knitting project. I usually use baskets for my knitting, but this is SO MUCH better. The jeans pockets inside hold all the usual knick knacks like measuring tape, extra needles, pens that normally would somehow disappear in my basket and I could never find them. This way it is so neat. I love order. Then you stuff it with the wool and the walls hold up and it looks cute wherever.
This one was next and Veronika claimed it immediately for her "Barbies". She only has one and a few miniature ones (or whatever they are), so I usually stuff a few toy animals in there to make the bucket stand up (I don't know how the pink foamy crown got in there). I have to admit, I changed the project directions after I made the first one, because as it turns out, sewing over jeans is really hard and making everything straight is even harder, because guess what, jeans are curvy and whatnot and so for the two subsequent buckets I did a lot of snipping around before I sewed anything together. I'm so handy.
The third one is the perfectest one, because by then I had practice. It's made with my old Long & Lean's from GAP. And guess what? If you want it, you can have it. Email me! I will accept money for postage, the time, tears and sweat spent are free.
Posted at 02:16 PM on August 29, 2007 | Comments (6)I don't like running
Yet it seems to be the cardio of choice at my biweekly gym visit. The bikes drive me crazy because I can never figure out the setting, it's either too hard or too easy and I end up wasting precious minutes (Yes, minutes! No need to spend any more time at the gym than absolutely necessary!) trying to figure out the machine instead of huffing and puffing. The elliptical... eh. I used to love it, but now those arm things are getting to me, I just end up jerking myself back and forth. The only other cardio I occasionally "enjoy" (It's exercise, duh.) is the enormous stairmachine. I climb and I climb and I sweat, oh, it's so hard, but in a steady way, you don't really notice you're out of breath until you've already climbed a mountain.
But anyway, the treadmill. I have made progress from walking with occasional running to running with occasional walking. It's a big deal for me. About twenty minutes almost of running only. Go me! I can do it! Cheer! Sorry, that was the budding American in me. (Shush, the Europeans are watching!) What has been a tremendous help in this achievement is my iPod. Running with music is so much easier. You can always trick yourself when you get tired: "Ok, a little more, just until the end of this song!" Stevie Wonder works well for this. A lot of his songs just never end. He just doesn't know how to stop and there's usually some kind of choir and they all just go on and on about the flying dolphins and the sealoving parrots. 6 incline and there I am shouting along in my head "A black man!" "A yellow man!" "A white man!". Weird, huh. Never said I wasn't.
It's hard to find good workout music... you don't want to get too caught up in subject matter. I can't be resolving any "issues" while I'm paying attention to my intervals (2.5 minutes easy-paced running, 0.5 minutes superfast superincline), it helps if it's a little... simple. Teenybopper music lends itself to that. Catchy beat, check. Upbeat attitude, check. Simple melody, check. Make that "Pon de replay" by Rihanna. It just makes me want to jump. Not like it's ever going to join my list of memorable music. It just makes me move. Mission accomplished.
My current favorite for running though is "Leave me alone (I'm lonely)" by Pink. Please disregard the infantile lyrics (and profanity), I beg you. Just put it on and try to resist the urge to run run run. I love when it comes on unexpectedly and I have to increase the speed because I never seem to be fast enough to keep up with the beat. Even though there's a wall in front of me or a glass window looking onto a dreary back yard, I am jumping in long imaginary leaps, high on plain old adrenaline. Ah, Pink. I can always count on your unbridled immaturity channelled into fast-paced POP-y beats.
Then when I'm done, feeling relaxed and proud of my accomplishment (and so relieved it's over and I can go home now), I load the John-Mayer-playlist and hum along nodding in agreement... my body, you are a wonderland, yes!
Posted at 08:45 PM on August 21, 2007 | Comments (10)Recycling
I took this:
And turned it into this:
It's not that I'm this poor or thrifty, but once I had the idea, I just had to try it out. I feel bad for little boys in summer, there are no flouncy skirts or airy dresses, they are stuck with shorts and t-shirts or a version thereof. It must be rather uncomfortable and sticky. Converting an old t-shirt or tank top is the ideal solution, because they are usually soft and thin and won't stick to the skin. Given how fast boys go through clothing in summer especially it makes sense money-wise too. Anyway, the point is, I am a genius.
Click here to see how I did it!
Posted at 02:46 PM on August 15, 2007 | Comments (4)This post is stinky
I deal with way too much crap daily. I mean that literally. Excrement. Poop. Sh... you know. There are times when I realize I just went from butt-wiping (not mine, I happen to be a lady) to poop-collecting (Digby's) in an elegant 5 minutes and I didn't think much of it. It's just what I do! Call me poopyhead. So funny. Ha ha.
It's one of those things people beyond (or ignorant of) motherhood will talk about in a sweetly reminscing voice: "Oh, diaper changing!" As if it was just that cute little thing mothers do. What's a little poop. Yeah, well. Let's talk about my son for an instance. He is what, 17 months now and I'm still waiting for him to produce poop appropriate for his age. You know what I mean? You don't? Think.
Maybe I was just spoiled having had a girl before, who was like a clock (during or after naptime, every day, ONCE) and like a lady (compact, acceptable size, uncomfortable but tolerable odor level). Now the boy... heaven help us! Once a day is a rare treat, twice is regular, thrice is a good possibility. There are never enough wipes, half the time he needs a shower and the sheets need to be changed. The entire floor is a toxic zone. Where did it all come from? Not from my little angel! I'd say someone is framing him, but the evidence is just too, uh, evident.
And so I wipe and I wash and wash some more, trying to get it off my fingers having given up on the contaminated air. The best part is that more often than not he will start the day off like this. I hear him calling me around 7 am and I stumble into his room, ready to ease us into the morning with a bottle of milk and some cuddles, but nooooo... there he is grinning from ear to ear wrapped in poo in a big cloud of stink and I am just trying to make sense of it all. It's just what you would it expect it to be like: You wake up in your cozy bed, the world is still fresh and dewy, you are disoriented and so vulnerable. BAM. 30 seconds later you are elbow deep in poop, showering the boy, washing the tub, disposing of the diaper. Disaster recovery.
Lincoln says for today's incident we should blame the Pasta e fagioli soup I made yesterday and that Ivan loves so much. I'd accept that if somebody could promise me that tonight's dinner is going to make him poop roses tomorrow. Anybody? I thought so. On the other hand, I think I am looking at the perfect revenge strategy. 15 years from now, when I will really need some ammunition, I will whip it out at just the right time: Son, let me tell you about the time the internet heard all about your elimination habits! In fact, I happen to have a printout... bwahahaha!
The soup though is delicious. Here:
Paste e fagioli soup
(from At home with Magnolia cookbook)
8 Main dish servings
1lbs great northern beans, dried
1/2 cup olive oil (I use less)
3 cups chopped yellow onion
1/4 cup minced gralic (I use less of this too, maybe 2 cloves)
8-10 cups chicken stock
3 14.5 oz cans diced tomatoes with juice
1/4 lbs spaghettini cooked al dente, cut in small pieces
1/4 lb penne or ziti, cut in half (I use any leftover pasta I have)
1/4 fusili or rotelle, cut in half
1.5 tsps Italian Seasoning
1/4 tsp ground black pepper (I eyeball this)
Grated parmesan
Soak beans overnight (or quick soak by boiling them for 2 minutes, then let stand for an hour), drain.
Heat oil in pan, add onion and garlic and simmer for 10 minutes.
Add 8 cups of stock, tomatoes, drained beans and bring to boil.
Reduce heat to medium and simmer covered for 2.5 hours.
Puree 6 cups of the soup in batches. Mix it back into the soup.
Stir in the pasta.
Season and cook uncovered 10 more minutes. Add stock if necessary (It usually is, but make sure the soup stays thick)
Serve with grated cheese (And crusty bread!)
Came across this...
... on my daily bloglines round:
That detachment is sold to young women and men as "freedom." To me, it sounds more like the Stepford Wives.*"
I've had this exact thought so many times... beginning in high school, when the pressure to "just do it" was a daily reality. The logic that cutting out your emotions is somehow empowering has always eluded me. Feminist, my a...
Posted at 10:28 AM on August 13, 2007 | Comments (1)