Elliot's pillow

On Thursday, after I spent the morning commenting on drafts of my students' final projects, Elliot and I spent the afternoon sewing a pillow featuring some of his embroidery. We found the design on one of the vintage embroidery photo pools on Flickr (I think). He did all of the ironing and a good deal of the sewing; for my part, it was my first time making piping, and I think it came out very well. (This tutorial was extremely helpful.) Here it is:

He's been cozy with his pillow since he finished it. I think he's proud of his work--as he should be.

What I'd like to be doing

Sometimes I feel like I've walked into a restaurant that looks really great from the street, but when I sit down and see the menu, I think....gee, do you have one with better choices? I know I walked in here under my own power, but now that I'm here, nothing looks too appetizing.
Here's what's on my menu:

1. revising an article that's due on 8/15, when I feel pretty sure that the revisions "suggested" by the editor will turn my essay into something much less interesting (to me)
   
2. grading more papers
3. cleaning the house
4. cleaning the house
5. cleaning the house
6. mowing the lawn and weeding

Here's the menu I wish I had:

1. sewing the six pairs of "around the house" shorts I cut out on Monday night
2. finishing the two sets of pillow tops I'm embroidering (a pair of pigs and a pair of camels; I've done the first of each set)
3. sewing a comfortable, belly-positive swimsuit with the Kwik-Sew swimsuits and activewear master pattern book I bought two weeks ago
4. finally finishing my big healthcare collage
5. taking a nap
6. putting together the Broken Dishes and Four-Patch quilt blocks I've finished
7. taking a nap
   
8. going to the pool by myself in the very attractive, belly-positive swimsuit I just finished (see #3)

Tonight when we were at a picnic with the other families from Elliot's baseball team, we heard the cicadas for the first time this summer. Every year I promise myself that I won't get melancholy when I hear them, but it never works, and this time was no exception. Unlike other years, though, I was with a bunch of other women who had the same looks on their faces as I must have. It was nice to know that I'm not the only one who mourns the passing of summer when it's really not quite half over.

Summer Weekend (for real)

We're closing out one of those "now it's really summer" weekends--too much to do, in a way, but most of it was fun, and now we're very tired. Elliot had an early baseball game on Saturday, then the kids had their school picnic, and today Astrid had a completely exhausting birthday party to attend. (In the car on the way home, she requested that I not talk at all, because she was too sleepy to listen.)

Yesterday I finished a small quilt for one of Astrid's English teachers; she's having a baby in August (I think), and Astrid requested that I make a quilt for her. It includes one of my old dresses, from the days when I lived in straight jumpers with deep pockets. (Eventually I decided that, as comfortable as they were, they weren't all that flattering to my multiparous belly, so I've moved on to other, equally utilitarian fashion statements.)

Now that I'm done with Miss Kate's quilt, I'm working in earnest on another pieced quilt. I'm getting lots of inspiration from Davina Thomas's 200 Quilt Blocks to Mix and Match. Her fabric choices are too ice-creamy for me, and the blocks she makes aren't scrappy at all, but the book seems pretty exhaustive, and Astrid and I enjoy looking at it together, especially at bedtime.

I'm also continuing to work (mostly during baseball games) on embroidered flour sack towels, with designs from Floresita's vintage collection. At this weekend's game, I didn't have Astrid with me, so I could embroider to my heart's content, or until my fingers cramped up (this time around, it was the latter).

Finally getting to type

Over the past two weeks, I have composed many, many blog entries in my head, but have gotten not a one typed into my machine. On my long drive to work, I cheer myself with the thought of stealing time away from my duties to get that blog entry typed up (and the pictures uploaded--always the dealbreaker when I'm working at home....). Then I get to my office and I either get so caught up doing (and, OK, enjoying) what I get paid to do that the day slips by without the materialization of the already-imagined blog entry. (I know--what a terrible problem to have--liking one's job.....)

Yesterday, after getting my spring grades turned in, I rewarded myself by using lunchtime to find the JoAnn Fabric store that Google Maps suggested was fairly close to my office. I've been looking for an iron-on transfer pencil, because I want to embroider some of Astrid's drawings, and the website said that JoAnn's carried them. (I had already checked my nearby Hancock Fabrics and Michael's stores, without any luck). I don't like to drive on the expressway, so I basically ignored Google's recommended route to JoAnn's, and, of course, I got a little lost. My lunch hour turned into 90 minutes away from my office--not a huge deal, as we're in the week between spring and summer classes--but I felt sheepish.

Especially, I should say, because I didn't really have much fun shopping. I searched high and low through the store to find the transfer pencil. When I'd completely given up, I found it--right where the cashier said it would be. (I *swear* it wasn't there the first three times I looked in that exact place.) I also thought their fabric prices were really high. Granted, I don't pay full price for many fabrics--I buy things on sale--but the regular price on the kind of denim I'd use to make pants for Elliot and me, for example, was $12.99. It was on a 50% sale, so $6.50---not what I'd call a deal. I could understand the price if it was an independent fabric store where customers can get good advice from the employees--but the store was understaffed and a lot of the fabrics were on high shelves. Some of them I couldn't even reach!

The happy part of this whiny little story is that I have a better appreciation of my local Hancock's store now. I've always kind of liked listening to the staff bicker with each other, or hoping that I can get my hands on the Butterick catalog when it's a 99 cent pattern day. (I *don't* like finding out that my size isn't in the metal drawer, though.) I don't think I'll go back to the JoAnn's store, not least because I now know it's too far to do in my lunch hour.....

Underarm Storage

No, not storage *for* underarms. Using one's underarm *as* a storage space.

Over the past week, I've had three or four panicky moments when I couldn't find something that I needed right that minute: my keys, a bottle of cumin, underpants for Astrid. After racing around like a flustered ostrich for two or three minutes (which is a long time when you're in a hurry), I realized that the item in question was stuck in my armpit, where it was so comfortably and securely lodged that it could probably have stayed for at least an hour. When did I start storing things in my underarm? Is this something that other people do?

I decided to do a bit of research, so I googled "underarm," and (not surprisingly) most of what I found was frightening. The "best" things I came across were several Philipino websites selling "underarm whitening" and "underarm peeling." I'm still not sure what these are--but it was definitely one of those moments when the strangeness of faraway women's body hatred got me thinking about the forms that plague the women closest to me. (A topic for another day. Today I'm all about underarms.)

Much more compelling and happy-making is the work of Mary Yaeger, a Colorado fiber artist who produces Merit Badges to mark female rites of passage and biosocial accomplishments. Here's one from her Signs of Puberty series:

I also came across a special travel wallet that one can wear "like an underarm holster."

OK, so the obvious question arises: when I use my underarm as storage space, do my belongings get stinky?

So far, the answer is no, though I suppose that if I'd held Astrid's undies too long, they might have, especially since it was a sort of warm day. By its nature, of course, cumin smells a bit like underarm sweat (to me, anyway....and I mean that in a good way, as I really like cumin), so it's possible that the cumin and the underarm smells got kind of mingled. Who knows. I'm not going to worry about it.

Back in graduate school, I had a friend who had worked on Wall Street for several years before starting at Rutgers. To avoid having to dry clean her suits and blouses, she always wore a close-fitting men's undershirt with the collar and much of the chest snipped off. I rarely wear a suit (it's nice to have tenure.....), but whenever I wear anything synthetic or less than breathable, I do what Elise did, and I feel much more comfortable. It's all about layering. (I also wear bike shorts under my skirts in the summer time....same principle....no chafing, and better breathability.)