Simply, family

I love old family photos, don't you?  You could tell the history of the world, I think, simply by looking at family photos (or portraits).  There are, for instance, a million pictures of my brother, sister, and me when we were kids, all lined up like we are in the picture above.  Usually, I'm making some sort of sour face, my sister isn't paying attention, and my brother looks like he's up to something. I'll let you make your own inferences.

I love that family photos can remind you of all of the good things you've had in your life.  The photos of me, Carolyn, and Patrick remind me that I am incredibly lucky to have a family that loves and supports me.  (Also, they like when I make them stuff, or at least they tell me they do.  Since I like crafting things, it makes for a good arrangement.)  Growing up, I was mortified when my dad made me pose for pictures in public--my first day as a crossing guard in grade 5, in front of the busiest building at my university during Frosh Week--but looking back, I can appreciate it was his way of recording the moments I made him proud.

Mostly, though, I love that they're a way of remembering things you might have otherwise forgot.

Like how, no matter how sophisticated and worldly my grandmother was, she was always ready with love and hugs for her grandchildren.

And how, even when we were young, my brother and sister were my best friends.

And how much I hated these terrible polyester outfits.  Stir-up pants? Pink Fleece?  Elastic ties?  Sure, we might have looked cute, but I was left traumatized.  Poor Carolyn had to wear these outfits twice as long: sometimes, it's good to be the older sister.

The Best Kind of Day

The best kinds of days are eminently lazy, filled with crafty goodness (at a leisurely pace, of course).  Hot chocolate, books, and any sort of cuddling are also involved.

After our morning walk, Gordon got about the next part of his day: napping.

(Yes, he does run the household.  Why do you ask?)

Anyway, that left me lots of time to get to crafting.  I promised myself that I wouldn't take on any more projects/classes/projects/projects until I had finished up some of the many sitting unfinished in the spare room.  No sooner had I said that did a class calendar for the workroom land in my inbox.  I mean, new quilting classes!  How could I resist?

To ease my guilt, I set about sewing madly this weekend, finishing (finally) an obi belt for one of my very good friends, the binding on the crib blanket for my sister, a new diaper bag + quilted changing pad for my brother in law, and a bird mobile for the nursery.  Carolyn has also asked me to make some cushion covers for her rocking chair; I've never done made box cushion covers before, so after cutting out the necessary pieces, I made the wise choice to wait before starting.  Even though I was on a crafty roll, I feared eye fatigue would set in and I would end up ripping more than I was stitching.

Now to get started on the 40 other unfinished projects ...

Happy Valentine's Day

Happy Valentine's Day!  I'm not usually a Valentine's Day kind of gal, but this year I'm feeling a bit lovey-dove--mushy enough to make a card, even.

It Doesn't Get Better Than This

Oh my.  It doesn't take long to fall behind on blogging.  Mere weeks after starting my blog, and I'm already a million posts behind.  No matter.  I feel better now that we've talked about this, so let's move on to the good stuff.

My sister is having a baby.  Crazy, eh? I'm going to be an aunt: that might be crazier.  I'm brushing up on my bad manners so that I can pass them on to my new niece or nephew ...

(Carolyn, you can thank me later.)

Adding a little one to the family has meant lots of fun sewing I couldn't otherwise have gotten away with, lest I start to worry Peter.  I'm glad that my sister and brother-in-law have indulged me and my sewing habits, because it's meant I've done been able to make the most rewarding thing yet: the baby's crib set.  At Christmas, I packed up my sewing machine and spent the most wonderful week with my sister, sewing, cooking, laughing and reminiscing.  At the end of it, we had an (almost) finished set for the baby.

I love living in Toronto. I really do. But there are times when it's harder than others, and knowing that I'm so far away when my baby sister is having her own baby ... well, I don't think I have to explain it much more than that. Imagine, then, how warm and fuzzy I feel, knowing that the wee little one will by snuggling in their crib in a set that I helped to make.  I know it's totally cheating, but it feels a bit like, when my sister and brother-in-law are tucking in their newborn, I'll be there too.