Sew Neat

Even though I am what some would consider a professional nomad, I realized a few years ago when I returned to America's shores, that I needed to plant a few roots somewhere. Anywhere. 

So, I joined a local camera club. The first meeting I thought I was in the wrong room. I literally thought the presenter was speaking Greek. He talked about the latest software patch for some photo program I had never even heard of. The camera club's website hailed people of all skill levels, but despite my own experience taking photos for years, I didn't feel skilled at all.

It took a while to figure out the workings of the club. I eventually realized that I joined it to learn more about photography and to meet new people. I also joined to challenge myself to take new and different photos -- even if it meant I didn't always understand the technical stuff. I still loved to take photos -- I wasn't about to let someone with more expensive equipment or a better knowledge of software I'd never heard of tell me that I couldn't compose a picture. I simply decided to learn what I could, filter out the rest, and take some photos. Occasionally, I still hear Greek, but gradually I'm becoming a little more fluent.

This week, we had our first competition of this season. I tied for second in the color category with 'Sew Neat': 

I thought the title was appropriate, a symbolic celebration of my sewing machine getting fixed and finally being able to seam a straight line.

Departures

The Sailor left today -- en route to a port on the other side of the world for a new sailing adventure. He was supposed to leave last week and then a visa glitch delayed him for another seven days. 

I didn't complain (although I did feel a bit bad for the guy at the other end who was supposed to be relieved last week...) It's always nice when we get a bonus week together. It makes up for the times that the Sailor has to work an extra week, or when his ship is still out to sea and nowhere near land on the day he's actually supposed to fly home.

another last supper before another flight

Having extra time together doesn't usually make goodbyes any easier though -- in fact it sometimes makes the departure even harder. Even so, I know the quicker the Sailor actually sails, the quicker he will fly back home. 

And arrivals are infinitely better than departures, in my book.

Bullion Beach Blanket

During our recent epic road trip (the one where I decided I needed to start blogging again), I decided to crochet a blanket. I had a stash of pink, green and cream cotton yarn (acquired during a stock-up sale). I also had an issue of Interweave Crochet, purchased especially for this Bullion Beach Blanket pattern. I decided that the colors -- crazy as they are -- actually looked great together. I piled the stash into the car and proceeded to make the motifs both in the car and everywhere we happened to stay. 

I blitzed through motif after motif and stacked them into piles as I completed them. They started to look like neon pancakes after a while. I wish now that I had taken photos of them on a breakfast platter. 

 

But then they all came together... 

And here again...

And wouldn't you know, I still had a TON of leftover crazy-colored yarn.

I go to a local knitting club once a month where I live. Every once in a while I seem to have something quite spectacular to show the other members -- a month ago, I brought in this blanket for my own version of grown-up craft show and tell. 

This past week I had nothing to show the group. One of the ladies sidled up to me to see what I was actually working on -- and then she chuckled. I was knitting a basic dishcloth. It's my go-to project when I'm in between big projects. It seems that every other meeting, I'm making a dishcloth. (They do make great gifts... and really, you never can have enough for your own kitchen.)

Then I realized that none of the gals at the meeting actually saw me working on this blanket... maybe they thought I didn't really make it...? 

Regardless, I know I actually made it. The Sailor witnessed the whole process too and even went so far as to ask, 'Where are you going to put that thing?'

Isn't it obvious? We're taking it on the next trip to the beach.  

Butternut Squash Soup

Ever since I picked up a copy of the The New Covent Garden Soup Company's Book of Soups (say that with a mouthful of creamy tomato...) over a decade ago in London, I have loved making and creating soups. Veggies that will soon spoil? Too much rice from dinner? An extra cooked chicken breast? Throw it all together and make soup! 

I think my love of soup also stems from so much time spent in Ukraine -- there soup is a staple. Even so, I never tired of it. 

Tonight's offering -- Butternut Squash Soup. In early October, just as the Sailor and I returned from our month-long road trip, I went to a nearby farm and bought up a bunch of butternut squash to turn into soup. I went crazy that week... a month on the road and I was ready to get back to my kitchen. I knew this was my favored soup of last fall and even into winter, so I wanted to whip up enough to stash for later. 

Sadly, tonight's dinner was one of the last of that batch! There is one more single serving left, but I don't think that will even make it through November. Oh well, there is always leftover pumpkin. Stay tuned.

 
Full disclosure: this photo was actually taken during the Butternut Squash Soup cooking craze six weeks ago. I also made croutons with leftover bread that week. Tonight's dinner made due with crackers from the cupboard.

Weekend Antiques

Ever since I was a child, I have loved the hunt of going to thrift stores. By necessity, it's where we shopped, even through my teenage years. Although I sometimes yearned for a brand new pair of jeans, most of the time I was thrilled with the idea that I could get an entire garbage bag of used clothing for the same price. 

I loved flea markets too. We would travel to an old drive-in movie theater that converted to an outdoor flea market nearly every weekend. 

Auctions were even better -- but as a child I was often a little fearful of even scratching my nose, in case the caller thought I was bidding on something. Sometimes they had flea market finds for sale too. I liked those. No bidding involved -- no potential for nose-scratching-accidental-purchases. 

Once, I bought an old cigar box that had tiny seashells glued to the cover. The old man selling it looked at me quite seriously after my purchase and said, 'Now you take care of that box, honey...' 

I felt responsible for that box. This man had entrusted me with something that had been special to him -- now I was the keeper of the box. 

I had that box for years. It held trinkets, pens, anything small enough and special enough. I got a little nostalgic when I finally realized I no longer needed it and should just give it away. I thought about what little girl might buy it for a dollar at Goodwill and what she would decide to store in it and then I happily added it to the 'giveaway' pile. 

We never really went antique shopping though. Antiques to me symbolized people who had money... and we didn't. It would be years before I realized that while many antiques are worth a small fortune, there are plenty to be had within budget -- many of them can be found at those same flea markets and thrift stores, disguised under the label: 'junk'. 

Nowadays, I love to poke around antique malls and stores. This past weekend, a friend and I spent the entire day wandering through endless shelves of old stuff. 

There were old toys...

Dishes.... 

 

 Cutlery...

 

Cookie cutters...

And much more.

 

I walked away with a few vintage hankies, a sock darner, some refrigerator pyrex I had been on the hunt for (more on that later...) in addition to a few blisters. The Sailor had warned me that the boots I put on that morning probably weren't made for walking. He knew his prophecy to be true when I came home and crumpled into a heap on the sofa.

Sore feet aside, I also scored these fabulous 1940s dish-towels: 

Perfect for my often mismatched and rather kitsch kitchen.