Show & Tell Club: Dinosaurs eat other dinosaurs

Photos borrowed from Laura.

Last Saturday we all agreed to cancel our motel rooms with the heart-shaped Jacuzzis and, instead, spend our evening together for the third installment of the Show & Tell Club.

A few highlights:

*Vince brought some valentines from his students that made us all want to be teachers for a second.

*Rachel showed us some great flea market finds from her year abroad in Germany.

*Suzanne brought an old newspaper she'd bought at auction from the day Kennedy died.

*David brought some red tools from his garage, and we all had to guess what they're intended for (a'la This Old House, I believe).

*Little Mr. B read a hand-written poem about dinosaurs whose first line was, "Dinosaurs eat other dinosaurs."

*Scott brought these little children's-type drawing of him and Catherine. Maybe I can convince him to blog them so you all can see.

*Catherine had some great relics from the start of she and Scott's relationship. Oh, boy. That journal.

*David and Marie brought the floor puzzle they'd created for their wedding guests to put together. Of course, we had to put it together too.

*I ended up bringing some embroidery I've been trying my hand at, along with official membership cards for everyone. Heck, yeah!

In other news, I just bought myself this crazy shirt today, made this delicious sandwich for lunch, and finished reading this great young adult novel (which I definitely recommend).

the donkey in the room

It's pretty much a cardinal sin not to talk about the inauguration today. Well, maybe yesterday was the day to talk about the inauguration, and today's the day to critique the inauguration.

I could barely open the Wall Street Journal today, for fear I'd be confronted with yet another interpretation of Chief Justice Roberts' bumbling over the swearing in. He did it. It was funny to talk about once. Move on. I mean, really, when a drunken Diane Sawyer giggled about it over and over last night, I thought I might shoot myself. And then this morning my beloved NPR had the audacity to discuss whether or not the swearing in even "counted." As in, since Roberts apparently made the biggest blunder in history, do they have to have a secret do-over?

Oh. my. word. . . Listen, NPR, don't you have a new novel to discuss or something? No? How about Gaza? Embarrassing.

Aside from the actual swearing-in ceremony, I thought the rest was ridiculous. Too many forced metaphors--retracing the steps of Lincoln's train ride to Washington, using Lincoln's Bible, etc.

And the ball last night. . . sickening. I thought the Oscars were on a month early. Really. Maroon 5? Cirque de Sole acrobats (or whoever those tights-wearing carnies were)? Have some class.

If we're supposed to take you seriously as an administration--all this talk about the common man, the economy, the war--do you really think an oyster-filled lunch and an American Idol-worthy celebration was the best way to go?

Now, the swearing in, that was classy. Solemn. Fitting. I'm going to have to say I enjoyed the metaphors of the opening prayer and closing benediction--the young, popular Rick Warren welcoming everyone into a new age while the Civil Rights veteran, Rev. Lowery, sends us off, passes the torch (with a bit of humor, might I add). I thought it was well-played.

And the poem by Elizabeth Alexander, while not well-read, in my opinion, and a bit choppy, contained a few beautiful lines:


"Say it plain, that many have died for this day. Sing the names of the dead who brought us here, who laid the train tracks, raised the bridges, picked the cotton and the lettuce, built brick by brick the glittering edifices they would then keep clean and work inside of."

Just lovely. (End rant).

Side note: I voted for Obama, okay. I'm allowed to rant. And I don't like oysters.

Greatest Halloween Story Ever

I have felt so zapped of energy, I can't even bring myself to post--no, I'm not pregnant. . . nothing like that. Who knows what it is. The blahs, that's what.

I made these felt pumpkin people for the Halloween edition of Show & Tell Society--which I missed due to our last minute California vacation. Dangit! The pattern is from Jennifer Murphy and was featured on Martha Stewart last year.

More from Halloween on my flickr.

And now for the greatest Halloween story. My friend Shaun passed out candy with another friend of his, Brian. A big teenager walks onto the porch wearing a red and black striped shirt. Shaun says, "Awww, Fat Albert! Right on! " He hands over a piece of candy. The kid says nothing. When he leaves Brian says, "Dude that kid was Freddy Krueger. Didn't you see the glove?"

Ouch.

Show & Tell Club

Basically, it started with books. For almost a year, six of us, give or take a few, have had this little book club. We started off reading something once per month, then once per 7 or 8 weeks, then every-other month. The writing's on the wall, you see where this is going.

Eventually we decided that on the "off" months, we'd get together to talk about whatever we'd been reading on our own. Then we came up with this idea. In my memory, it's so clear that I was the one who came up with this, but--thank you, technology--in rereading our emails I realize it was actually Eric and Scott.

Eric: I have an idea which kinda defies the laws of book clubnicity. . . (insert idea here). . . Kind of like show and tell. (He first uttered the phrase).

Scott: Thinking about it, it could be totally open, you (could) just bring something cool. Something you made or saw somewhere or a strange thing you found on the ground or a song you can sing. And there would be food. Could be fun. I could see Readymade magazine doing an article about how "Show and Tell" clubs are the new thing. (He ran with it).

So, there you have it. They stole my idea first. And so began the Show & Tell Club. We had our inaugural meeting over brunch on September 7 at our place. I made the invitations above and hand-colored them with fancy colored pencils. There was a blurb inside that read:

The Show & Tell club is a small group of hoodlums who seem to enjoy telling each other stories and wowing one another with dance moves, book suggestions, weight lifting, and clean jokes. Please humor them by bringing along something to share. Perhaps you could sing a song, read a poem, bring something you handcrafted, or share your most prized possession (even if that item is only a pencil sharpener).

Words cannot describe the beauty of Show & Tell Club.

Here was the rundown:

Vince brought his high heels from the Walk in Her Shoes fundraiser. John had his 80's paint-splattered sunglasses (totally ridiculous creation). Marie brought handmade flipbooks. David had some insane photos he'd taken with a new 3-D lens. Eric brought old photos and trinkets he'd come across. Clare brought two sweet handmade creatures. Scott read one of his poems, as did David. Suzanne had some of her first screenprinting designs. Catherine brought these little handmade books from her childhood. I read my journal from 1994. Wes had made his own memory tiles (more on those later). Laura brought a piece of her pottery. Tony released his famous blueberry muffin recipe from the secret family vault. And Tracy showed some of his artwork from his summer internship.
Whew! A lot, huh? You can thank me later, Readymade magazine. A royalty check would be fine.

Check flickr for all the photos. Just you wait, Show & Tell Club #2: Halloween Edition will be at John and Lindsay's. It's bound to be good.

Self-Explanatory Freezer Paper Stencil

Cash now has a new nickname after knocking down our friends' son's block tower, to which Ethan yelled "Hey, we've got a human tornado in here!" The letters are iron-on, and the tornado image is a freezer paper stencil. Pretty cute.

you're getting warmer

Cash's nursery is almost finished, now that I got the Johnny Cash print framed and actually had a weekend off to work on it. I got this print in Nashville last winter at the famous Hatch Show Print. I had JoAnn Fabrics frame it because of their 50% off deal going on, but I wouldn't use them again. The frame hugs the lettering on the left-hand side, even though the framer assured me it wouldn't. Problem is, I waited so long for this to come in, I hate to take it back to have them fix it (isn't that twisted?). A few photos:

crane and twig mobile, inspired by this photo.

notice baby in basket.

the prints. the smaller one is this print.

above the changing table: vintage paint-by-numbers and a few collections
i'm rather fond of the red diaper pail.

and the "in progress" corner. the lincoln rocker was my grandparents and is very dear to me. unfortunately, the color and style are not dear to me, so i'm still unsure of how to handle this.

kangaroo baby

we spend much of our days on this spot on the couch--reading, doing crossword puzzles, playing on the internet (which is what i'm doing in this picture). he likes to sleep scrunched up in the sling with his head dropped back against my hand. we're still on the unpredictable schedule, never knowing when he's gonna sleep or eat or cry or anything else. since it's been below-freezing here, we haven't gotten out much--a few runs to the coffee roasters for some more chamomile tea, a few to target, the library. i'm still trying to decide whether or not i'm going to keep working part-time. it's a tough one, not to mention i'm not so good at making decisions.

i read a pretty good book called "but enough about me" by jancee dunn--a writer for rolling stone who tells about her life up until rolling stone, how she came to be a writer and be surrounded by celebrities and pseudo-celebrities. in between each chapter there are little tips for interviewing celebrities that are witty and fun to read. much of this book makes me feel like dunn really thinks she's hot stuff (even though she's always talking about how uncool she is). or maybe we all think we're hot stuff, who knows. now i'm onto a book called "heat" by bill buford about his year studying under a famous chef. some parts are boring--food histories, details about cooking types of meat--but much of this is captivating and hilarious.

i'm trying to knit another one of these for my friend's birthday. i made myself an orange one out of this beautiful yarn that my yarn shop informed me they'll no longer be carrying. darnit.

Books I've read since the babe

I've accomplished some serious reading since the boy came--between nursing and naps he leaves me a lot of time to sit here flipping through page after page of (mostly) brilliant literature, save a few occurrences of merely mediocre literature.

Here's what I've tackled thus far in the past three weeks:

Cash: the autobiography
Johnny Cash
I'd already read this before, but it's one of those great musical autobiographies that warrants rereading (plus, my kid's name is cash, it just makes sense). Cash does a fabulous job of recounting stories from life on the road--like Jerry Lee Lewis's constant preaching about rock and roll singers all going to Hell--and of relaying that smoky, wise voice he's so well-known for.



Memoirs of a Geisha
Arthur Golden
I'd had this book for a number of months after borrowing it from my sister-in-law but never reading it. Before it had never peaked my interest enough to even pick it up. My, what a difference it makes once you're stuck at home all-day every day, feeding a newborn hour after hour. Memoirs of a Geisha? suddenly sounds riveting! I'm not sure if it was the cabin fever-induced delirium, but this novel was actually good! I read it in about three or four days and could barely sit it down long enough to fall asleep at four in the morning while I was, you guessed it, feeding a newborn. Golden makes the streets of world war-era Japan vivid and colorful, with bright descriptions of Imperial gardens (coincidentally, the name of my grandmother's subdivision) and hand-painted watercolor-esque kimonos. The movie version? not so good.
Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman
Haruki Murakami
This collection of short stories was a birthday gift from my friend Tim that, once again, had yet to look appetizing enough to pick up. Although Murakami isn't my favorite writer, his dry, twisted sense of humor was enough to get my attention. The "poor aunt" story is hilarious, but most of his randomness was a bit too much, even for me. I wish I read Japanese because I imagine this book makes much more sense when read in its original language. Then again, maybe not. Coincidentally, his novel Kafka on the Shore was on everybody and their brothers' best books of 2005 list, so I guess I'll be picking that up one of these days.

The Road
Cormac McCarthy
This book is freakishly fantastic! Though you wouldn't know it from looking at this particular list, I don't really like reading fiction. If someone had tried to explain to me what this book was about--a father and son trying to survive against cannibal pirates in a world covered in ash--I would've grimaced and gone back to my creative non-fiction, but this novel is actually quite good. I'd love some explanations from McCarthy--like, what exactly happened to the earth and how old is the son?--but I don't think those are necessary to the narrative. I'd love to see a visual of this ash-covered earth, but I must admit that watching a father and his son travel an empty road for two hours doesn't exactly sound like entertaining cinema.

The Color Purple
Alice Walker
Even though I own this book I hadn't read it until last week. I had finished The Road in about a day, so I was desperate for something to read during the boy's middle of the night feeding. Even though I'm not much of an Alice Walker fan, this book wasn't so bad. Hmmm . . . maybe that's why it won both the Pulitzer and the National Book Award. Just a hunch.




Best American Nonrequired Reading, 2005
ed. Dave Eggers
I looooove the Best American series. The essays and short stories are my personal favorites, but this newer series is equally fantastic (this year there's even a new graphic novel series). And while I'm not always much of a fan of fiction, nor of Eggers, this collection is pretty good. I got tricked a lot into thinking certain pieces were nonfiction, and suddenly became turned-off to the narrative. However, that's more because I'm a snob than because of the stories themselves. The Al Franken piece is hysterical and made the entire book worth reading. Now I just have to wait until the library orders the 2006 edition.

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim
Davis Sedaris
If I could write like David Sedaris I'd love myself. This man is, hands down, the funniest writer . . . ever. I'm sorry, it's true. And while much of this collection is nowhere near as funny as his usual New Yorker contributions, they're still worth a read and good for a laugh. Coincidentally, I just realized that this book, the Murakami novel, and The Road all have covers designed by Chip Kidd, my favorite book jacket designer. How odd.

I'm desperate for more good reads. Any ideas?

It's a Boy!

(William) Cash
born december 17 @ 10:54 am
7lbs, 11 oz
20 inches long
100% rock 'n' roll

show me yours, i'll show you mine.

I can't keep up with this blog, and I don't even have a kid yet! There hasn't been much crafting happening at this house. Just endless nights of cleaning and organizing the bedrooms to make room for the little bambino. (is this what they mean by nesting?) I hoped to sew a ruffle (minus the ruffle) for the bottom of the crib, but I can't make my mind up on the fabric, so I am not sure it's going to happen. Even though I still have two months (of back pain and sleepless nights) left it's starting to feel like it's down to the wire.

In other news, we spent a lovely weekend in Minnesota last weekend. Some friends of ours got married on a farm outside of Minneapolis. Between the sheep, the farm cat, the bluegrass band, and Whale Tail Lake the wedding turned out to be a lovely affair. I felt like a penguin waddling around in my dress, but I got to wear a beautiful fall-colored corsiage (I read a poem during the ceremony) so that made me feel a bit better. The reception ended with everyone around a bonfire out behind the barn and the bride was wearing green galoshes (it was raining) with her knee-length gown. Now that's the sort of wedding I could get used to.

pregnant and barefoot in the kitchen

yes, i'm still getting bigger. i've officially started the uncomfortable phase, even though i still have 3 1/2 more months to go before the little champ arrives. sitting up starts to hurt by the end of the day and i find myself lying down to read every night. don't be offended by my derogatory comment about being barefoot and pregnant--i don't even get that joke--but it's true--i am barefoot and obviously pregnant. and that is the kitchen i'm in. i'm cooking moosewood's yummy potato soup recipe. it's one of the simplest potato soups i've made, but it's the best. just celery, onions, potatoes, milk, marjoram, and dill. it's great on rainy days like we've been having. i also took some advice from a recent posie gets cozy post and made the sour cream apple pie. i made mine a bit too runny so the apples didn't cook that well, but it's still good. and aren't those vintage embroidered hand towels lovely? you can thank my mother-in-law for those beauties.

i'd swim across lake michigan

we just spent a lovely weekend in michigan with my in-laws. my husband's brother and wife were also visiting from california, so it was quite the family get-together. we had a baby shower for them since they're due on two months before us. it got me geared up for my own shower. once the west coasters left for the airport sunday afternoon we headed to our friends' to ride horses. tom and paula live on a nice sized plot of land in the country where they own two of their own horses, sonny (shown above) and coin, and board three others. i forgot to get a picture of it, but their stable is called "T's Rockin' Ranch" and has an engraving of a guitar--very appropriate since tom's a vintage guitar collector.
even though I've been around horses plenty of times in my life, it's still amazing to see what large and powerful creatures they are up-close. their massive limbs and large eyes. it's intimidating. i like the whole lifestyle surrounding horseback riding--the woven blankets, the expensive leather saddles engraved with the artist's names--the whole bit. I left thinking I'd like to live like tom and paula when i get older--in the country, with a large back porch overlooking the trees, horses bought and boarded, woven saddle blankets, and a few vintage guitars.