December 2019

Tuesday Project Roundup: The Year In Review

By in sewing, Tuesday Project Roundup

What I did the most of in 2019 (besides sewing)

Happy New Year’s Eve! My birthday on the 3rd is for resolutions, but I like to go back through the year and do a project recap–just to get what I made in one place and remember what worked and what didn’t.

What I sewed the most was active wear, which makes sense because it’s probably what I wore the most (I’m lifting 4 days a week, bros!). I discovered Greenstyle Creations, whose patterns make your butt look amazing, and I discovered a whole new world of athletic fabric suppliers and custom printers. Being able to make my own tights (with POCKETS) was a revelation and also saved me about $80 per pair vs. buying the high-performance, colorful ones I’m drawn to. Plus, they’re so comfortable and, as I said, make your butt look amazing (I mean, all the squats help, but it’s good drafting.).

I pretty much made a whole new gym/hiking wardrobe, plus a swimsuit (!):

I made regular clothes, too, from lounge wear to work outfits:

And, in a departure from my all-pants wardrobe of the last 5 years, I made skirts and dresses:

Doc got some things this year, too:

 

That’s 36 sewn garments for me and Doc (plus 2 knitted sweaters). Last year’s output was 32, so it’s about the same for this year–but it feels like a lot more because I really filled a hole in my wardrobe with all the gym clothes. I also finished 7 out of the 9 things I planned for the 2019 Make Nine (included in the list above). And let’s not forget that I got a NEW SEWING MACHINE in August, which is seriously some of the best money I’ve ever spent.

I’m not doing a Make Nine again (I get too distracted) but 2020’s plans will probably include sports bras, more gym tights, finally sewing up this fabric from 2018, and maybe getting a coverstitch machine (so I can make gym clothes even FASTER, of course).

 

Favorite make of the year and it’s all due to the fabric

 

I Think This Is A Metaphor

By in Christmas

I ordered a bûche de noel for Christmas Eve dessert with Matt’s family. Normally I make something fancy but my heart just wasn’t in it this year, so I decided to make it easy on myself. I was so pleased picking up the bakery box the morning of–until I got home and saw the 16″ log had cracked in transit:

Not gonna lie, that was the nadir of the season for me. My attempt at a new tradition didn’t work; nothing worked; Mom wasn’t here; she was never going to be here again; why bother with any of it?

I just walked away and was sad for the day until about 15 minutes before we left for dinner. Then I thought, “I bet I can push this together and smear some frosting over it,” and reader, it worked:

 

As a metaphor for the first holiday season without Mom, I’ll take it.We were broken but we pulled it together. And we filled the cracks with frosting.

Friday Links

By in Friday Unrelated Information

1. I got a new PR at the gym yesterday for deadlift–200 pounds! I’m giving credit to that tin of butter cookies I ate (and, OK,  another 6 months of training). I’m going to try for a new max on bench Saturday if I’m feeling good.

2. It’s the Winter Solstice tomorrow. My work bro asked what I did to celebrate and I got to throw all the links at him: The Hubble Space Telescope Advent Calendar, some Wikipedia history, and Susan Cooper’s poem “The Shortest Day.” If you do nothing else, light a candle tomorrow and be glad we’ve made it to the return of the light.

3. I’m off next week so I will be doing some last-minute sewing, making more cookies, and just taking it easy instead of posting. Happy Solstice, Good Yule, and Io Saturnalia to everyone out there.

A Poem Instead Of Feelings

By in poems

This will be the first Christmas without Mom. We got through the first Thanksgiving without her, but both she and I loved Christmas. I keep coming back to this Robert Bly poem I first found in 2012. I just like the…doubt, I guess, that runs through all of it, and the acknowledgement that “so much was lost.”

 

A Christmas Poem
by Robert Bly

Christmas is a place, like Jackson Hole, where all
agree
To meet once a year. It has water, and grass for
horses;
All the fur traders can come in. We visited the place
As children, but we never heard the good stories.

Those stories only get told in the big tents, late
At night, when a trapper who has been caught
In his own trap, held down in icy water, talks; and a
man
With a ponytail and a limp comes in from the edge of
the fire.

As children we knew there was more to it—
Why some men got drunk on Christmas Eve
Wasn’t explained, nor why we were so often
Near tears nor why the stars came down so close,
Why so much was lost. Those men and women
Who had died in wars started by others,
Did they come that night? Is that why the Christmas
tree
Trembled just before we opened the presents?

There was something about angels. Angels we
Have heard on high Sweetly singing o’er
The plain. The angels were certain. But we could not
Be certain whether our family was worthy tonight.

 

Let’s Talk About Allergies

By in let's talk

In September, I saw my general practitioner for a yearly checkup. It was the height of seasonal allergies, so I told her I’d be curious to talk to an allergist about what could be done. She referred me but the appointment wasn’t until December; I almost didn’t keep it because I thought, “I don’t have allergies in December.”

The allergist’s first question was, “Do you have a cat at home?” I told her I did but was emphatically NOT allergic, since I’d been around cats my entire life. She looked in my eyes and nose and recommended a nasal spray “to help improve my sleep” and then we did the skin test for environmental allergies.

Can you guess what’s coming next? That circled C and Ce below stands for “cat hair” and “cat epidermis.”

 

Thankfully, it’s a really mild allergy, as compared to the “grass, tree and pollen” arm:

Nothing in Prince Toby’s kingdom will change, of course, and I still continue to bury my face in his fur and kiss him at every opportunity, but this explains SO MUCH: I’ve just kind of always had a stuffy nose my entire life. I assumed it was normal to wake up and not be able to breathe. I thought everyone kept a Kleenex in their pocket at all times for nose-blowing. (In fact, I learned that from my mom–I bet she was allergic, too.)

The nasal spray the allergist recommended is making a huge difference already–I don’t wake up stuffy! I blow my nose so much less! At some point next year I’m planning to do the shots for a long-term solution, but the whole experience honestly feels as magical as starting therapy or Zoloft: There is a reason you feel this way, and there’s ways you didn’t even know about to feel BETTER.

Better living through science, indeed.

Buy It Or Make It: Teddy Coat

By in buy it or make it, sewing

I’ve had coats on the brain for a few weeks–partly because I’m following all of Martha at Buried Diamond’s amazing tailoring, partly because the Everlane coat that’s been my casual option for two years is really itchy. (Am I getting more sensitive to wool as I get older? Maybe.)

After I saw Martha’s latest pom-pom coat I’ve had the idea of a coat with texture or pattern in my head. Sunday morning I was poking around Pinterest and ended up looking at “teddy coats” (furry faux sherpa); then I clicked over to JoAnn and saw some fleece for $7/yard and boom:

Via Pinterest; I think it was a Jessica Simpson design (?)

 

Simplicity 8797

Soon this Muppet-y goodness will get turned into a warm, non-itchy coat–for about $30. Yay sewing!

 

Happy Birthday, Doc

By in birthdays

It’s the birthday of the man I’ve gotten to spend nearly six years with.

I always used to roll my eyes when part of a couple would introduce the other part as “my better half” but with Doc, I get it: “better half” doesn’t just mean that he’s a good person; it means he’s a good person that you literally can’t imagine going through life without.

He’s the person I wish I could be–more patient, more willing to listen, less likely to judge. He is a man of hidden talents–he can drive a steel trailer and hit a target with a gun. And he’s always so damn quick and funny–it’s what I noticed about him first.

Every day I’m glad I met him and wonder how I got so lucky. Happy birthday, honey. I love you.

 

Happy Birthday, Altair

By in birthdays

It’s my sister-in-law’s birthday today!

The word that came into my head first when I was thinking of this post was “capable.” She doesn’t make a big deal of it, but she can just DO most things–invest money, make quilts, grow food, bake bread, run races. I’ve often thought that she’d be a good pioneer, or someone you’d want around in an apocalypse.

Not only that, but she’s GOOD at what she does. I admire her most for how she’s raising her son to be such a well-rounded, rational human. She’s teaching him how to sew and bake. She’s setting an example by volunteering with the city government. She gives back by mentoring younger women. He sees her go to work every day and proudly tells everyone, “She builds rockets!”

In spite of all the things she’s doing for her job and her family, she makes time to be a good friend and a good daughter. When she talks to you, she gives you all of her attention–I hadn’t realized how rare that is until I noticed it. When someone as accomplished as she is wants to really listen to what’s going on in your life, it feels pretty great.

Happy birthday, Altair! Thanks for marrying my brother.

Let’s Talk About Baby Yoda

By in let's talk

Firstly, no, he is not literally a younger Yoda, but no one knows what else to call the species Master Yoda belongs to. Secondly, I haven’t seen any parts of The Mandalorian; yet–like the rest of the world–I am obsessed.

Baby Yoda moved Werner Herzog to tears! A completely understandable reaction! This opinion piece posits that we should all mother our collective son Baby Yoda instead of bringing human children into the world! I agree!

I have Just the Baby Yoda Parts of The Mandalorian bookmarked to read when a new episode comes out (or whenever I just need to see Baby Yoda being adorable). I recommend you do the same.

Until next time, Baby Yoda!

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