fabric kanzashi flowers

A friend of mine has a four year old daughter who has a white plumeria flower barrette that I secretly covet. I imagine what I'd where it with - a tan, a strapless sundress and my pair of orange leather flip-flops. I have searched for ideas to make my very own substitute for this much loved hair accessory.
During my hunt, I discovered Kanzashi flowers. Although the ones I have discovered a far from the traditional Kanzashi worn by Geishas, they are truly awesome!
After showing Liv some of the photos of them online, she and I decided to give our hands a try at this type of art.
Although there are a tonne of tutorials out there, we are adding yet another to the abundant craftiness.....

Materials:
8 squares of fabric (we used 10 cm X 10 cm pieces found in fat quarters)
A needle and thread
Button for the centre
Glue gun
Alligator clip
1. Fold one piece of fabric in half diagonally.
2. Fold it in half yet again.
3. And again.....
4. Bear with me, this part is a bit hard to explain in words....Fold the two sides of the fabric down as if you are folding a paper airplane....
Get it?? It should look like this on the other side.... 5. Push your needle through the side making sure to pierce all pieces of fabric so it will hold together once they are all strung on.
6. Repeat this seven more times and add them to the thread.
**Do NOT knot between each one as you want them to be able to slide along as you position them correctly at the end!!
7. Once they are all on, your thread gently making sure to not snap it and push through the first "petal" once again so that they arrange themselves in a circle.
8. Once secured, put all the points together.
9. Using very sharp scissors, cut the rough ends off.
It should look like this.
10. Rearrange the petals in a circle and ensure their proper spacing.
It should look similar to this.
11. Pick out the button/s you want to decorate the centre of the flower.
12. Using your glue gun, make sure you get glue on each petal nearest the centre. You want to make sure that they are all secured by the glue.
13. Squish the button on. Large buttons work best!
14. You can actually attach the flower to almost anything - a hairband, a hair elastic, a purse, a shirt, etc. But we decided to attach it to the alligator clip. This allows for versatility because once on the alligator clip, you can clip it to any of these things are remove it to attach elsewhere later on.
15. Using plenty of glue, again try to make sure you touch each petal to ensure that it doesn't fall apart later on.
16. Stick the alligator clip to it. **We stuck a piece of cardstock in between the alligator's "mouth" to make sure that any extra glue wouldn't stick it shut.
17. Once it has cooled and hardened, remove the cardstock and VOILA! A little piece of decorative hair heaven!
Although these look quite difficult, they are crazy easy. Liv and her friend really enjoyed making them and have been wearing them since. I would NOT hesitate to make them again. They took about 30 minutes to make with the girls. I am sure an adult who had made them before could bang on off in 15 minutes or so. SO fun!!!!!!!!!

who you were

Some of the fishing companies that Jeff had worked for would provide jackets for the crew with their name embroidered on the shoulder. Once when asked what Jeff wanted marked on his sleeve (he had a plethora of nicknames that could of been used in his name's stead), he had remarked, "Just Jeff". When his coat arrived with "Just Jeff" scribed upon the arm, he had thought it was ruined. I had thought it described him perfectly.
Recently, I have noticed that the person who Jeff was and who Jeff is now imagined to be has shifted. I feel that I alone (aside from his mother and sister) can remember him with his real faults and with his true strengths. To others, he has become an icon.
I've heard him described as a 'Viking'. I've heard another express that he thought Jeff would have loved playing a Wii. When telling a dear friend how Liv had a MASSIVE temper tantrum and that I had (in the heat of the battle) told her that her father would have not stood for her hitting and kicking me, the friend said, "Oh yes, he would have. He was a sucker when it came to her."
I understand that the phenomenon that occurs when someone has died - they become someone in many people's eyes that they actually weren't while they breathed. But it angers me. I find myself correcting other's opinions, recollections and estimations of Jeff's personality. At times, the listener wants to stubbornly hold onto their new 'version' of Jeff. They argue with me, "I know Jeff would have given Briar a toy gun!"
But they're wrong.
He was huge, tall and strong. He could be crushingly terrifying - but he wasn't a warrior....at least not once he was old enough to have some sense. Jeff hated video games and thought they were a waste of time. Although Liv had Jeff in her pocket, he believed that children must treat their mothers with respect and kindness and at times, he was annoyingly intolerant of her childish ways. Jeff did hunt. He had guns. But he swore that they were not toys and that he would teach both of our children the proper use of these tools.
I am amazed and resentful that some people believe that they knew him like I did. I despise the image that they have created. I want to remember him as he was - Just Jeff.

amazing mamas

Yesterday, my kiddos and I attended the Bethlehem Walk at our local Baptist church. While I am FAR from religious, it was so historically interesting and allowed me to have a conversation with my kids about the origins of the Christmas tradition.
The kids loved 'everything' about it, although I think Liv enjoyed the small, fresh loaves of bread the best judging by her pleas to go back for more. Briar really enjoyed collecting stamps on his Bethlehem map throughout the 'marketplace'....and then hoped to look at them while laying in bed (I didn't tell him that I had thrown his muddy coat in the wash upon walking through the door not realizing that the 'map' was in his pocket. I am SO hoping he forgets before I have to explain him that the hard piece of whitish lint at the bottom of his pocket was once his beloved map.)
As we walked through the ancient town, we had been instructed to keep an eye out for a baby named Jesus. Halfway through we came upon a young couple in wonderful costumes amid the hay bales depicting a barn-like scene. "Joseph" was very believable in his performance as he greeted us with "Shalom" and brief small talk about the tax man. His poor wife, however, was struggling.
"Mary" was a very young mama who was trying to breastfeed her hot, tired and altogether annoyed little one. As an audience stared on, she attempted to calm her baby with her breast without giving these onlookers something they hadn't anticipated - a flash. She seemed to be trying to look "Mary-like" - calm, serene and with a instinctive mothering knowledge that could subdue her baby with just a soothing word and mama's milk. As a mom, I could see through her thin facade to the panic and frustration she was feeling and as I led my children to the next vendor I thought of all the things I wish I had known before having my babies.....

• Wear slip on shoes - you will always find your hands full of baby paraphernalia, car seats and bags when you suddenly realize that you should be equipped footwear as well.
• Make sure to cross your legs when you cough, sneeze or laugh really hard - I don't know that any explanation is needed here. Oh! And say 'goodbye' to your days of jumping on a trampoline.
• Do you remember those catty girls in junior high who gossiped about everyone no matter how perfect and fabulous they were? Get ready for round two. Mom's can be harsh to and about each other. Find a group who is as self-deprecated as you are and don't take the others opinions too hard. You're doing a great job - the best you can. And really, they worry about their inadequacies as a mom as much as, if not more than, you do.
• You are amazing. You created a life within your body. Yes, the skin on your stomach resembles the face of a Shar-pei - but for very good reason. You made a tiny HUMAN BEING within it!
• You wouldn't know if your baby was ugly. It's better this way. Who would want to snuggle a trash can lid? You will stare into those shiny little eyes and know that this is the most amazingly awe-inspiring little one ever to have graced this Earth with its' tiny feet and mustard coloured poop.
• When people have issue with your breastfeeding in public, stare at them and speak loudly at the person with you, "I can't believe they are eating in public! How disgusting!!" I believe breastfeeding is normal, natural and healthy. It seems that the over-sexualization of the breast in our society has done terrible things for our children's eating habits. Would you eating your lunch in a dirty, public bathroom stall? Blech.
• Everyone may have an opinion on what you do and how you do it. YOU are the expert on your children. Trust your gut as you're the one who loves them the most and have their survival and mental well-being first and foremost....and you'll presumably be the one paying the therapy bills when they hit their teens.
• Also, though you may be feel judged while others look on as your sweet, wee one pitches a holy fit atop the wood chips on the playground thus embedding thousands of tiny slivers beneath their soft skin to ensure a long and drawn out reminder of this damned humiliating venture to the local park; they most likely are just reminiscing over the fact that the only way to soothe their child's impending tantrum at the grocery store recently was to allow their kiddo to plunge a damp, chubby finger into their parent's nostril as they strolled down the aisles in the shopping cart....while all the other parents stared and thought about their most recent brush with 'CIH' (Child Inflicted Humiliation) .
• Play with them whenever you can. Even singing "Super Planet Janet" for the fifty millionth time while you secure their lifejacket before swimming at your summer cabin will go a long way to defining you as a great and attentive parent.

the wishlist

My children are aware that Christmas is in 23 days. Already they are making their preparations for the big day. Snow flakes already adore most of the windows in our house, our advent calendar is hanging above the fireplace and letters to Santa are ready to post. After ruminating long and hard over what she would write, my eight year old daughter, Liv, stood up from the kitchen table with a letter for Santa clutched in her skinny, little hands. Hope and excitement lit her face.
"Do you think Santa can bring whatever you ask for if you only ask for one thing?", she whispered.
"It depends what it is, I suppose", I answered nervously imagining pink polka-dotted unicorns and hot-air balloon rides to the moon being requested. I was surprised when she handed over her note.
Her words make me vacillate between laughter and tears....
I don't know what I'd do without these little people who make life so much harder and some much more bearable in one motion.

P.S. Briar asked for a remote control monster truck taller than his head. Not as emotionally charged, but certainly enough to strike fear in a mother's heart. How the HECK is Santa going to pull off Christmas????

Daddy O - Frances England

I know this song is supposed to be a happy and upbeat song.....but it makes me sob for my kiddos and all they`ve lost.

pretty

the first day

Liv started school today....."real" school. Grade three at the school that I attended as a young whipper-snapper.

Last night, she excitedly chose her outfit for the day. We planned how the morning would go and what time we'd get to the school.

She woke at 6 am and wanted to get up. I coaxed her back to sleep for a few minutes before she was chattering away and again attempting to vault from the bed. I was thrilled. She was excited. She was enthusiastic and positive......And then I asked her to let the chickens out.

Generally, it was downhill from there. She didn't want to do it. I want to stick to the rhythm that had worked for us and feel that we are all contibuting members of our family and as such have roles to fulfill to keep the house running smoothly and harmoniously.

Harmonious, my ass.

Needless to say, by the end of the first hour of climbing from the cozy nest of the bed that the three of us had spent our night together in various states of sleepy entanglement, I was pissed off and ready to start frothing at the mouth like some rabies infested mad-dog. She was screaming at me that she shouldn't have to "do it all" as she is "just a kid" and it is my job to "do this kind of stuff". Briar was hollering plaintively as the puppy had hold of his shirt and was hindering his journey up the hallway to his breakfast. After I chased the puppy away from Briar's backside, he managed to sneak off to a corner in the living room to shit on my computer's electrical cord.

Liv had taken to hiding in a corner in her bedroom muttering mostly quietly to herself while occasionally loudly spewing a variety of age old adages, such as: "I hate you!" "I don't want to go to school!" "You love Briar more!" "I wish I had a different mom!"

I storm through the house throwing needed items into my purse while giving a verbal dialogue of my thoughts using a variety of non-G-rated wordage (Is that a word? Wordage.) and taking a nervous child's behaviour far too personally. Anyhow......

If you had witnessed this scene, you probably would think that....well, I don't know what you'd think. I just know that you would most likely think this home was a chaotic, crazy place and would try to get out a fast as humanly possible....

Then, after a few minutes of travel, at school, imagine a calm, serene mother and child. The little girl is nervously clutching her mama's hand and trying to remain inconspicuous by hiding behind one of her mother's abundant thighs. The little girl is big eyed and sweet. Quiet and shy but pleasant to talk to. The mother probably seems gentle and confident. Not the rabid creature she was only minutes before.

After getting the sweet, subdued little girl to her class, speaking to the teacher, and lingering in the hall outside the class long after all the other mothers have gone, the angry/gentle mama drives away without her little girl.....crying. Wishing her daughter's first day had been different than this. Wishing her husband had been there to share the joy....and the chaos. Wishing that she didn't feel so awful leaving her little one for others to educate and explore with. Feeling a hypocrite for sending her to public school but knowing that she must do it if she is going to keep food on the table and clothes on her little one's backs.

adding to the pack

I have tried to resist. I have tried to talk some sense into myself. I have tried to convince myself that we are better off financially and obdigation-wise. I have tried to divert my attention.....But somehow all I have wanted to do since Freckles' death is get another dog.
I realize that the last two years of his life, he was a major head-case that needed not just some deep emotion empathy and redirection, but hard-core antidepressants. His seperation anxiety after the death of Jeff, followed so very quickly by my beloved dog, Eli, was more than his big heart could bear. And although, at times, euthansia seemed the only solution for his window frame destruction/light switch removal/door knob denting/etc., I miss having him around.
I had contacted a woman about purchasing a puppy from her at the beginning of next year. We had chosen a golden retriever whose mother was imported from Germany. It all was so perfect and full of coincidences. The breeder is a younger widow with two children living on a farm. We had decorated a jar with pictures of puppies and started to save for the purchase of the puppy and its' initial vet bills. I was being responsible and logical about the process of adding another member to our family.
But, really, my heart is far from logical. I think probably even moreso since the death of Jeff. When something feels right, I do it. I do it with gusto and just hope that even if my actions yield horrific results, I have learned something in the process thus making the experience valuable.
As I perused the adds on our local used site, I was struck by an add containing a sweet and forlorn-looking german shepherd cross puppy. After speaking to the woman who had him, I felt completely compelled to see him. I told myself, "We don't have to get him. I can just go see him, pet him and be on my way if it doesn't feel right." But, alas, as soon as I set eyes on him, had him in my lap and felt his kisses I was struck.....with puppy love. As I watched how comfortable he was with Briar's loving and at times, overly playful misinstrations, I fell farther. When I watched Liv's face filled with contentment as she stroked the puppy's fur as it calmly laid in her lap, I was head-over-heels.
So two days ago, we headed out to pick up our little guy. He's going to be a big guy as he is german shepherd, husky, leonberger cross.
We've named him Caleb.
So far, he's been fabulous. No chewed up shoes. One accident on the rug. Lots and lots of snuggles and cuddles.
And even if he does do something.....puppy-like, I will remind myself that although Eli was the best dog in the history of mankind, he once ate a pound of butter as a puppy....and barfed it on the floor. And really, he is too small as of yet to detroys curtains, door knobs and other household structures as Freckles did....And he's not fast enough yet to kill a chicken. ;)
I am smitten.

the perfect father

Lately, Liv and I have been struggling. We have been fighting arguing about everything from whether she should brush her extremely knot-filled hair before departing for the day to whether older sisters are 'allowed' to speak to their younger brothers in a hatred filled voice to whether it is her job to clean up her mess. She claims that my requests for daily self-care (teeth brushing, semi-clean clothes wearing, etc.) are demands upon her body which I have no right whatsoever to impose....and that this is exactly why nature has so much trouble supplying humans with their 'needs' because society has created an unreal ideal of human hygiene (If you are confused, don't worry - I don't totally get the rationale either).
I am holding my breath wondering what Liv is going to find issue with far too often for my liking. I am emotionally exhausted and communication/NVC/positive parenting deficient.

Recently, Liv has started to not just fly off the handle with anger over the injustice of expectations upon her body, the needs of others in the household or my desire to have a calm and communicative homelife....but at the idealized image she holds of her father and my perceived shortcomings.
She regales me with reasons that I am less of a favourable parent to her father. I don't play with her enough. I yell more than he did. I don't love her as much as her daddy did.
The ironic and most painful part of this is that although Jeff was a kind, funny and loving father, he was not always hands-on. He would wrestle with Liv. Or snuggle on the couch watching a movie. He'd occasionally make something with her in the garage. He loved to listen to her read or hear her tales of daily life on the phone weekly while he was fishing.
But I was the one who cuddled her to sleep and got up with her in the middle of the night. I wasn't holed up in the garage drinking beer and watching WWF. I was mixing the homemade playdough and kissing away 'owies'. I knew what size of shoes she wore and how far up she liked her coat zipped.
He was a fabulous daddy. But the image she has of him is just not accurate. And I am being compared to a 'saint'.
One evening of overly expressed dislike of my inadequencies as a parent I (remarkably) calmly told Liv of her father. I explained that he was a fabulous guy and my very best friend whom I loved with all my heart and wished with every part of my being that he would be back with us. BUT that he was a real person. He made mistakes and lost his temper and sometimes stunk like B.O. He didn't like how I loaded the dishwasher and ate pickles straight out of the jar. It doesn't mean he was 'bad' or 'mean' or 'unkind'....just that he was like the rest of us. 'Real'.
With horror on her little angry face, she told me that I was never to talk 'mean' about her daddy ever again. That he was 'perfect'.
And really, he was. He was perfectly him....But I hope that one day, and not TOO far away, she can see that I am perfectly me....and I am trying the best I can to do the job that he and I used to do together.

I do not want to take Liv's love or admiration for her daddy. I don't want her to ever stop thinking that he was wonderful and hilarious. But why does it have to come at the cost of her love and devotion to me?

wordless wednesday

the new digs

We're finally in the new house...every night. The shower is fixed. The beds are in their permanent positions and the playroom is festooned with all its' miniture household items.
I have been unpacking like a crazy person. I am determined to have the house functioning in an efficient manner before I go crazy. I dislike the temporary and chaotic feel a house has until all the garbage cans, towels and books have their spots. I like to know where the scissors live so that when I need them, they are where they should be. Finding them wedged between the wall and a cardboard box just doesn't do it for me.
Anyhow, the house is getting a more 'homey' feeling and I am feel less panicked.
I have started my new job and am really enjoying it. I am working in a doctor's office as an M.O.A. (medical office assistant). My favourite parts are smiling at the little ones who come in a bit fearful and hopefully making their visit a little less scary. I find that if I tell them about my kids, they seem to trust me more....and I LOVE doing urine tests. I never thought I would love doing something that had to do with someone else's bodily secretions....but it's really COOL!
I am enjoying learning and am finding that I sleep better knowing that I'll be able to buy groceries without having to do the financial juggling act I usually have to.
I don't like being away from the kids....but I love getting home and telling them about all the new things I've learned.
The chickens and ducks don't have a permanent housing arrangement yet as we still have to get a fence up in the backyard. So far it's only deer netting that is keeping them somewhat contained.
We've walked to the beach a few times and collected so many salmon berries that Liv has taken to making 'jam' for on her toast.
I haven't yet had a moment to complete my assignments for the organic master gardner course that I finished....but I am hoping to have them done in the next few weeks.
Liv is LOVING the backyard, the deer that meander through, the GIANT mushrooms to look at in the woods and looking into the stream.
Briar is enjoying riding his bike up and down the driveway, spraying the garden hose on anything and everything and cuddling with the chickens (as always).
I think we're going to like it here. I think we're home.

falling into place

Although life has become so stacked full of have tos/should dos/need tos associated with moving, I'm finding that the move and all things associated are falling into place and feel right.
I don't want to mislead you into thinking that life here is placid and calm; it's fucking crazy. But inwardly, I know this is the right decision (although if things blow up in my face, I may be found claiming that it felt wrong from the start....).
There is NEVER a 'free' nanosecond, let alone moment anymore. The second life slows briefly, Briar helps out by emptying the contents of a fire extinguisher in the basement, Liv decides that my refusal to by a fused plastic doll with shocked expression and a smear of some unidentified substance on its' synthetic clothing from the secondhand store is evidence that I don't love her as much as love "Briar or the Earth" (her words, not mine), and ducklings that were not expected to hatch out for four more days make a surprise appearance. (Again the humidity was off for the late part of the hatch causing one of the ducklings to need my now-skilled hands for extrication from his calcium-laden 'womb'...And again, we have a slightly mangled baby on our hands.
THIS time I know to let Nature straighten out toes herself though. NO orthopedic shoes for this little quacker....)
I have been hesitant to mention one of our enormous life changes before now. Liv will be attending public school in the Fall. I truly feel she is ready to face a few new challenges and to be with other kids more of the time. Many of the practises of conveyor belt conventional continue to cause me to hiss and spit but after meeting with the principal at the school she will be attending, I felt comforted with the thought that I can still remain a large part of her learning experience. I feel that not everything in life is perfect but is necessary for some of the lessons we need to learn (Don't I know THAT)....And I must admit that there are times that I need help. Liv is an eager and excited learner. She is so very bright and knows so many things I had never even grasped at her age....And I hate to admit it, because I feel like a failure as a mom and especially a homeschooling, organic eating, poultry shoe making mom....But it is sometimes hard being in the presence of a wonderfully spirited seven year old girl 24/7. I need a rest. This is SO NOT the main reason she will be attending school, but I think a break from eachother will do us good....I just wish it wasn't EVERYday for 6-7 hours. I will miss her terribly.
The house we are moving into is in the process of being renovated. New roof, new windows, doors, flooring, paint, etc. It's on a five acre parcel of land with two houses (one ours, the other the landlord's). The landlord's driveway goes straight down to the beach and we're welcome to go down anytime. They are happily accepting the arrival of our feathered friends and have even agreed to allow us to adopt a dog in the near future!!!!!
I've been offered a job but can't say much about it yet except to say that it will pay well and work with the kid's schedule awesomely.
I have so much more to write but so much more to read in preparation for my class tomorrow.....P.S. Did you know that dandelions are indicator plants and often signal a deficiency in calcium in your soil. BUT because dandelions themselves are SO full of calcium, it's nature's way of curing the problem. Cut 'em off, dig 'em up or mow 'em down, but leave their bodies to put the calcium back into the soil!!! It takes quite awhile to make a difference but is so much better for the enviroment than adding chemical fertilizers as an excess of one nutrient will cause a deficiency in another!!
P.P.S. Can anyone remember what the character's name was in Flashdance? The first picture is of a duckling that looks as if it's wearing legwarmers. I want to name it after the Flashdance girl....