house wren studio

treasured

I'm really happy that you all signed in for the first giveaway. I already have another one ready to post, but I'm waiting a bit. Comments are still collecting for this one- which is okay until I randomly pick and post the winner. Thinking I might put together an extra bundle because I am so grateful for all this wool love!

Grey skies outside have me looking around inside here. I spent some time studying this scene this morning where a bunch of my favorite things live on the sideboard. In no particular order, they are:

A. The ship in a bottle that Andy made just before Erin was born. 1978. He used an old gin bottle, carved the ship and masts, built special tools for the task, made ten tiny parchment sails, created the water from putty, painted it, magically installed the boat inside. All a first effort, one and only- a spectacular piece of craftsmanship.

B. Maggie's coil pot from high school art class, 1996. It's centerpiece-sized huge and has the prettiest glaze and shape. Someday it will go away with her. For now, it's safely adored here.

C. My grandmother's ginger jar. The origin of my fondness for that color, it makes me think of porch divans, lemon drops in crystal dishes, Pendleton jackets with big patch pockets, her love for my mom, then me.

D. The tiny teapot that Anne suggested Andy get for me, maybe Christmas 1991. She saw me admire it in Chicago's Chinatown when we were out exploring the local universe with our children. I think he was fairly bewildered about why I wanted that. The top has this little frog sitting in a seeded flower center. He went all the way back there just to find that again for me. 

E. An old hand-painted tole tray that I picked up along the way, probably at a church sale. The colors and flowers are just right, but the best part is on the back where the artist painted first to practice the sweep of her stroke. Even those are beautifully done.

F. The cobalt vase that Erin and Andy brought back to me from Italy. Always the one I reach for.

G. Lilacs, which I do love. But these, even more so. Probably why I was looking here in the first place today, taking it all in. These fragrant and beautiful lilacs are a gift from James. The dear young man who loves our Maggie and brought them to me on her birthday.

In no particular order, huh? You know I saved that one especially for last. Yes, I did. I sure did.

Now, off to assemble that second bundle of wool. And a few other things. xoC

just there

I walked by our old house last weekend- the one we took on as a neglected grande dame. The one we poured our days and nights into, pulling down falling plaster ceilings, scraping wallpaper, hanging wallpaper, doing what we could. The house that was impossibly huge, way bigger than we were. 8 bedrooms, 5 baths, 2 parlors, formal dining room, butler's pantry, dressing rooms, so much of everything. And the heating cost. Friends kept their coats on when visiting. As soon as it was fixed up enough, we sold it and moved on to Chicago. As much as I loved the neighborhood, I never really felt connected to that house. It was too much for us then.

But this door, oh, this time of year. I carried Maggie through that doorway as a newborn. 27 years ago this week. We put her into the arms of her big sister and watched them fall in love- in the room just there. I rocked her in the nursery chair by the yawning window up above. Tucked her in and tiptoed down the hall just beyond.

And I welcomed spring, swaying with her on my shoulder, looking out for this.

 

Our dependable, magnificent tree- the one that climbed up to us in the early dawn, waved at the window. The one that brought waking birdsong and pink lanterns, whispering each day, "There is so much more. Bring your little ones outside. Come out and see this charming, glowing spring. No more wallpaper, no more paint. Come outside and play. It is all just beginning- this is what you dreamed."

Happy birthday, darling Maggie. The house, our tree- still so elegant, so lovely- just like you. Our sweet little dream come true.

getting closer

Our little collaborative project (with Rebecca, Pam, Carolyn, Teresa, Amy) is shaping up.  Sheesh, it's pretty amazing. Almost there.

I think I said that before, but we are having way too much fun tinkering and adding on. You'll be happy about that. Really. You will.  xoC 

transformed

April 15th. Arghhh.

April 16th. Much better.

the creative family

I was excited to receive an advance copy of Amanda Soule's new book. The Creative Family is her sweetly inspiring collection of projects, ideas and thoughts on family life at home. Home with little ones- precious, curious children just beginning their own creative adventures. Like her blog, the book is a clever handbook of the ways that a family can simply play and learn together, enriching each other's creativity with imagination and invention.

I am loving this little book- small enough that it sits perfectly on top of the stack here. It is beautifully designed and easy to dip into, though harder to put down. Most of all, I love the way that Amanda's parenting style fills their lives with creative discovery. Children are natural teachers too, their gentle ways instilling respect and affection for siblings, a calmer pace for the household. I like the accessible crafts that the family has created- sewn, built, mixed from simple materials and resources. Handmade knitting needles (how cool!), art-on-the-go bags, a banging wall from kitchen pots and pans. Rituals, traditions, parlor games, all within budget, without commercially marketed products. Fabulous, thrifty, home-made fun.

I confess that it happily reminds me of this, my own record of those extraordinary days. I do believe that parenting is the best gift life has to offer, even though it's a supreme challenge, start to finish. You know how you hear people jokingly say over the heads of their children, Where's the owner's manual? I think it's here, in the pages of thoughtful books like Amanda's. This wonderful book reminds us that there is no better, or more natural way to nurture our children- and ourselves- than with our own enthusiasm, patience, care and creativity.

Now I'm going to make myself a banging wall. Everyone should have one of those!

related

Isn't it amazing what is inside a camera after a week away, 973 images suddenly fullblown on the screen like a drive-in movie? It feels as if I'm off on a whole new visit there. I had no idea that so many images were related in ways I would just discover now. Does everyone think that kegs on the street and marble carvings are connected somehow....or is that only me?

It was a sweetly relaxed and sunny Easter here. Maggie, Andy, our friend Jane and I stayed on at the table laughing and telling travel tales. Maggie and James recently returned from a vacation to Austin, San Antonio and the Texas Hill Country. Maggie's stories were perfect counterpoints to ours- hilarious encounters with cowboys and critters. And it even looks like we are unwittingly drawn to similar sights, mine in Ireland (above) and hers in Texas (below). Although it is pretty amusing that the kegs would appear in my collage because I have never liked the taste of beer. Maggie, on the other hand,  ......

well, I must say, she has a well-trained eye for detail.

That's my girl! xoC

simple

Everyone has asked me if I was inspired while away in Ireland. Of course I was. But I was surprised that it really was not by the usual things. More than anything it was the dramatic simplicity of life.

We spent most of the week in the country and everywhere I looked it was an ancient landscape where the past absolutely insists upon the here and now. In the way that the daffodils return to bravely stand against gale winds, the lambs born into rocky fields full of danger, the cobbled walls just high enough to hold their place, but not so high that a shepherd couldn't climb over, the peat bricks stacked and drying in the sun. It was lovely and humbling.

I was inspired more than anything just to take care. Revere the past. Cherish its traditions. Knit them into the present with careful, loving stitches.

That's what I'll be thinking about tomorrow for Easter. A simple day where the past lives here beside our present, mindfully pushing us to look ahead. Hoping you have a day like that too, wherever you are. Happy Easter, welcome the brilliant miracle of spring.

Whatever peace I know rests in the natural world, in feeling myself a part of it, even in a small way.   May Sarton

postcard :: 8

Maggie's earring holder- brilliantly constructed from an old frame that she laced with thin wire. Functional and hip and man, those earrings are seriously amazing. Kind of like the 60's and 70's when we had long hair under bandanas and halter tops with our jean cut-offs.

postcard :: 7

Erin and John Paul's living room. Elegant, peaceful...and thrifted.
 

postcard :: 6

Spuyten Duyvil, the Hudson Line
My favorite train stop, the sunset on the way home from the city, the way the words sound when you say them out loud.