Published: Poetry in Quill & Parchment

Here’s a nice start to the New Year!

My poem, “I pray for you, even now” is in the January issue of Quill & Parchment.

This poem was written when my sister was pregnant with her son, and when a family history of failed and difficult pregnancies was worrying me quite a lot. So much has changed in 3 years for my sister and for me (including 2 kids who fought and won!)… but I will always look up to her courage and her unique brand of grace under chaos.
I love you, Sister!

Here’s a snippet:

From “I pray for you, even now” by Emilie Rommel Shimkus

II.
My sister does not pray;
she lives these months as fervent intercession.
Her hands are busy with welcome,
her body, prepared,
preparing.

My sister sails through city blocks.
Borne aloft
on tattooed calves,
the faded-ink phoenix swells
with errands and mercy.

My sister measures space, makes room.
My sister follows directions. She lays
her Newports down.

If you’d like to read the rest, a subscription to Quill & Parchment is only $12… go ahead, support the arts!

Why the Husband is Awesome

He plays Scrabble with me.

Better than that, he played the following combination in Scrabble this afternoon:

You know that first point in the game where you run out of all your big-point letters, and you’re starting to have to take whatever little points you can squeeze in, and all you can make is “in,” “an,” “is,” or “it” “

Well, we hit it… and the husband sighs in resignation and plops down “lo.”

My fella is both literate and biblically educated enough to recognize a perfectly good, if currently underused, exclamatory remark.

Score.

The Birthday Party!

Before: Pieces of the Pennant Banner, under construction

We pulled it off!

LittleBird’s First Birthday party was so fun, and I think it all came together really well.

What makes this such a big deal?

We never host parties.

We’ve  done brunches and movie nights, wine and cheese, even a couple of Thanksgivings for family (with Turkey, even!)…. but no parties.

There’s a variety of reasons for that…

We live in an apartment. Neither Matt are I are much for cooking, though we are learning. I’m a basically messy person, which I am embarrassed to reveal TOO much to TOO many people. In the past, the husband and I have been crazy busy with overlapping weird schedules.

And then, of course, lately there’s the ol’ “There is a baby living in this house, and filling it with piles of toys, books, things pulled out of drawers, and shredded paper.

Before: Humongous Zucchini, purchased at the Farmer's Market for $1.

But honestly, it’s mostly been a combination of a too-messy house and simply not enough time to pull together the kind of capital-E Event I’d want to host.

Which is why this whole thing was kind of brilliant. I’m unemployed-slash-”light-freelancing” from home, so I have had time to plan and find fun foods and cook and make fun decorations.

And the most genius part about the whole endeavor: We had the party at someone else’s house!

Our friends have lots of room with great flow for a gathering, and they were generous enough to lend it for the day. So I made everything at home, brought it to the Party House, cleaned up at home, had the party, cleaned up the party house as the party was still winding down (with the help of a few wonderful party-goers), and came home to a nice clean kitchen.

What a lovely day for us, and for LittleBird, and hopefully for all our family and friends. We really did intend for it to be a great big thank you for all the amazing help and support and encouragement we’ve been offered over this year.

PortlandDad&Mom (formerly of Honolulu) told us that the Hawaiians have a similar celebration: A keiki-luau. A time to celebrate a year in the life, welcome the baby to the extended family, and just have a great big party. Exactly.

Now, once the party was all set-up and in full swing, I’m proud to tell you I scooped myself a cup or two (or almost three) of mulled wine and just set about relaxing and chatting and letting my child run wild into the dozens of willing arms around….which means I didn’t get near as many pictures as I’d have liked. But that’s ok. I enjoyed every minute of it!

Here’s what we did manage to get on film:

In front of the finished banner, the husband with LittleBird and her cousin, LittleG. Since it was an almost Halloween Party, lots of the kids came in costumes. LittleBird was a von Trapp baby (drapery play-clothes, y’know) and LittleG is, of course, a puppy.

Zucchini Bread for all! And cornbread for the turkey pumpkin chili.

Frankly, I had a blast making all the deelish dishes. And did you know there are very cool internet-based businesses that sell personalized party decoration kits?
Well there are. But I made my own. And enlisted PortlandMom to get them nicely finished and arranged..

Then of course, there was a gluten-free cupcake to be eaten.

For me? Oh, I couldn't possibly.

mmm.... Well, maybe just a little taste.

Cupcake Plunder!

Sorry, what's that? Something... where? On my lip? Did I get it?

And finally, for some reason, this last is my favorite shot. My camera flash was acting up, and all of the present-opening gifts ended up blurry… but I love that LittleBird is snug and happy and clear, and we are part of it.

Happy Birthday LittleBird!

Hello Again, Old Friends!

One of the best things about having a child is the excuse to read children’s books again… not that I ever truly stopped, mind you. Faery tale collections and some truly beautifully illustrated children’s stories have nestled in with Jane Austen, an evolving monthly relationship with fashion magazines, and historical/literary fiction as permanent residents in my bookshelves, from 12 to nearly 30.

Her parents, grandparents, aunties and uncles and friends being who they are–readers, every one of them –LittleBird already has quite the bookshelf… for now AND for later. Board books, big pictures, counting and labeling books for now and Dr. Seuss, Roald Dahl and Beverly Cleary for later.

A favorite companion for many years.

For LittleBird’s first birthday, she was gifted with even more wonderful books–many of them previously loved and worn, which is how we like them best.

It was so fun to re-discover some very good friends–like Corduroy!– from my childhood I had forgotten all about!

When she was only months old, and still swaddled and stationary before bedtime, I used to read LittleBird pages out of whatever I was reading… even battle scenes from the Game of Thrones series.

Now that she’s older, mobile, and grabbygrabby at everything, bedtime stories are interactive and we’ve definitely found our favorite little books. They’re sweet– rhyming, fun animals and shapes and  colors to point at…

But I really can’t wait till she learns to love a good story. I can’t wait to introduce her to my favorite heroes and heroines and small adventures and magical lands. I can’t wait for Narnia, Ramona Quimby, The Egypt Game, A Wrinkle in Time, all the Mary Poppins books, and before all of those, the Hundred Acre Woods and Beatrix Potter’s world… so many good stories.

They’re all ready and waiting for her!

Living After Bedtime!

Living after midnight. Rocking till the dawn
Loving till the morning, then I’m gone.

My band covers Living After Midnight by Judas Priest.
The original is here, and it has become one of my favorites.

It’s one of those songs that–no matter where we play–people start screaming and headbanging, fist-pumping and dancing around.

Plus, I just get a charge out of singing high, 80s male vocals, where I get to act like a real rockin’ badass.

…as opposed to a newly-minted-mommy whose typical post-midnight capers this last year have included getting puked on, administering hours of soothing, finally doing the dishes/laundry, maybe getting to eat, and dropping into bed like a rock after reading maybe 3 pages of any given book.

The husband and I have tried to snuggle on the couch for a movie or tv show from time to time… but LittleBird has simply refused to sleep before 10pm (or much, much later), so even when we do finish the movie, we’re too tired to actually talk much about it. And we can usually (not always, thankfully, but usually) forget playing cards or Scrabble (which we love), or just relaxing and talking together. Usually we’re doing all the clean-up from one day and prep-work for the next, and then that’s it! Better get to bed before LB wakes up!

But guess what?

Big news.

Big.

Hear ye, Hear ye!
LittleBird has been down for sleep by 8:45pm for a week!
Sometimes 8:30! And sleeping till 7am!

This is officially the most sleep this child has ever condescended to.

And oh man… I’d forgotten what it’s like to have a few hours to just LIVE after bedtime! To be Emilie and The Husband, not Mama & Daddy for a few blessed hours.

The last couple nights–in addition to all the clean-up/prep-work–I have made crafty things, written, read my voter’s pamphlet, and watched a whole movie with the Husband! We’ve been able to relax and goof around and have some nice conversations, and read entire chapters of books… and still get to sleep before midnight!

Now, LittleBird is teething at the moment, so the nights are not perfect. She wakes up screaming, and needs some major soothing, sometimes at 11, sometimes at 3 and 6am. It’s still tiring and frustrating to get up with her, and it’s an adjustment to start everybody’s day an hour or so earlier.

But with unhurried, unabbreviated time to be ourselves, to set aside for a little while our work as stewards of this small person’s life, time to be a couple, time to spend spend together AND time to enjoy our individual, nerdy pursuits… it’s a strengthening, heartening, refreshing thing.

…that just makes me want to DANCE!

Special Post: The Sleep Fairy Delivers!

Trust the Stash

Trust the stash. Use the stash.

I’ve been reading a lot of crafty blogs lately… quilters, sewers, jewelry makers, foodies, and general Home/DIY mavens.

“Stash” means something different for all of them.

(It doesn’t usually mean Tom Sellek. And and it usually won’t get them arrested… at least not in most states.)

For quilters, it’s those beautiful color collections, fabrics galore, in giant and tiny pieces. Knitters, it’s the balls and balls and balls of yarn, all in one seasonal color that were on clearance last summer.

You get the idea… it’s the thing they have a ton of, and the thing they keep replenishing, project after project. The thing they always have.

Now, what draws the line betwen a stash and a horde is this: A stash is useful. It gets used. Sometimes–rarely, but sometimes!–it gets completely used up. And then you have to start all over again.

All of these bloggers I’ve been reading, are good, responsible stewards of their stashes.They all have a post or three about “Using the Stash.” Deliberately finding a pattern for that fabric or planning meals around pantry staples. It’s both economical, and a creative challenge–to intentionally seek out that sweet spot where what you have fits what you want to make.

Now, for me…. my stash is costumes.

I grew up with a fabulous dress-up box, and the total normalcy–indeed, logic!–of collecting costumes for when you need them has followed me into adulthood (in which I am now firmly ensconced, in case you were wondering).

Although it’s a bear to move around and to store (at least when you’re living in apartments) my costume stash has served me and my loved ones well for many years.

In 10th grade, my friends and I acted out a scene from the Merchant of Venice for English class… I happened to have Renaissance gowns and a cape. In college, my abbreviated dorm room stash provided hats, scarves, and accessories for a third of a the cast for a musical theatre showcase. Just a couple of years ago, some friends asked me to help stock a “photo booth” for their wedding… with a few additions from the dollar store, it all came out of the stash.

The stash has continually come in particularly handy for theatre, of course, when I need something vintage that actually fits me.

Even more important: Band gigs with Igneous Rocks… we do a lot of theme gigs, especially for Halloween… or just when we feel like it…

This year is no exception:
It’s Halloween and we’ve got a big costumed shindig-gig. YAY!

But for some reason, THIS year, I convinced myself to to choose a costume for which I’d need to go scrounge up all new stuff. So I went. I scrounged. I spent too much time and too much money at the thrift store and at Ross and the dollar store, and all I found were pieces that *might* work.

Then I came home, brilliantly remembered something from my stash, and in under 10 minutes had plotted out and half-way constructed a complete accessorized costume. ALL from my stash.

See? You Gotta Trust the Stash. Right, Tom?

**************************************************

Archives: The Stash at Work

Sometime *just* post-high school. Friends throw an annual Oscar party, so I grabbed an old prom dress, jewelry and Elvis-Aviator sunglasses (what? why?) and dressed up AS Oscar. Still have all of it.

In the Seven Year Itch at Tacoma Little Theatre. A vintage white angora sweater originally purchased for a 60s musical my sophomore year of high school. Still have it.

Halloween Band Gig: We did a B-Movie theme, so I made a “Femme-Bot” outfit. Thrifted the dress for it (and yes, the $1 store funnels were new), but I wish you could see the awesome peplum skirt I made out of a re-purposed and bedazzled platinum pleather mini-skirt. Yes, all of those things. And yes, I still have it all.Some friends hold an annual Murder Mystery event. This one was set in “1930s Mobtown.” In addition to the very handsome husband, please note the boa (no costume stash complete without it), cigarette holder and pearl strands (ditto).

When I played Stella in A Streetcar Named Desire a couple years ago, we needed a gold dress for Stanley to yank out of Blanche’s steamer trunk. I lent the theatre a gold lame column dress from the 70s, thrifted in high school.

Themed Gig: Woodstock 60th Anniversary. My Mom’s old halter top, a brocade coat dress belonging to my mom or aunt, lace kerchief purchased from a yard sale at 12, crochet apron, thrifted and my my own favorite patchy jeans. Also worth noting: The keyboardist is wearing my Mom’s old maternity top.

In the flick, my character wore exclusively vintage clothes… this is also one of Mom’s dresses (and my favorite).

Just for Kanarie: Summer of 2010 Costume Birthday. My creepy cat outfit. The theme was “dress as an internet video”… so I was Nora the Piano Playing Cat. When else do you get to wear your cat/werewolf hood?

The best for last! The wedding & the prop box! Such a beautiful day, and the BEST reason to raid my stash!

Confessions of a Maybe Former Shopaholic?

Today I went shopping at the mall for the first time in several months. The husband and LittleBird were along for the ride, and as we rolled into the main entry, packed with teenagers in the smae clothes and families and old women in fleece vests and people just carrying bags and bags of stuff under the flourescent lighting with all the piped music and cars packed in the pathway, and kiosk kids hasseling other women my age who have time and money to burn, right?…

I just…. whew. It was a moment.

Let me rephrase: It was a weird moment. Weird, because I love to shop. I always have. My shopping dates are marathon, and you better bring your walking shoes and plan for a coffee break.

…at least they used to be.

It’s been a long time since I had time to burn at the mall. And in these, the years of living frugally, something about these giant, high-ceilinged stores packed with the same clothes, hundreds of the same shirt on the cheap cause it’s only $10 so why not buy 3 of them… these stores make me anxious and irritated.

I got this weird little shake-up a few weeks ago when I wandered into another all-in-one store and actually had time to poke around the clothing section. I threaded into the clothing racks looking forward to snagging a good bargain on something cute… and the whole experience just felt too claustrophobic, too manufactured by someone else and their Board of What Looks Good Now.

The last time I was this weirded out by American Shopping Culture was when I returned from 6 months in France, way back in college. And I shopped in France! There were boutiques aplenty, chain stores, and teh equivalents of Payless shoes, Best Buy, and Target or Fred Meyers. There was even a kind of Costco… but it was so far out of town and down the train line that I never went. And still, all those other equivalents…. they somehow still weren’t as huge and pervasive. Even the supermarches weren’t nearly as super as our markets.

The first time I went with my mom to pick up some milk and shampoo at the store, I just stared in confusion down the double aisles a seeming mile long, waiting for my brain to kick back in. “Oh! That’s right! that’s what it’s like here!”

It’s kind of the same with these recent experiences at the mall and the all-in-one. We’ve been living pretty frugally for a ong while now. At least, it’s certainly a far cry from “My first apartment and my first real job” when I had cash to spend on a new sweater or beautiful shoes every other month (They were always on sale! And I still love them!).

We still shop, but as a treat… a reward when one of us finishes a work project, or for birthdays. Sure, there are still “just for fun” items… but we tend to hold off on those till we realize we’ve been back to the same catalog page or website 5 times in the last 2 days. It’s sort of an extension of my old shopping philosophy… if it’s over $x, walk out of the store and leave it. If you’re still thinking about tomorrow, go back.

We’ve also been trying to be much more careful with our dollars… I shop a lot of vintage/consignement/goodwill, and if we spend a little more money, it’s on a good brand and in quality fabrics. We hit the mall from time to time, but it seems to get longer and longer between visits (though it may be more often now that the rain is returning and I once again join the legions of mall-walkers with strollers).

Anyhow… somehow it’s just different lately. And strange. It somehow isn’t sitting right in my bones.

Is it possible to have “re-entry issues” at the mall?