Indian Summer V: the sea, the sea

Indian Summer IV: in the Japanese Garden

The passage of time

Uncanny

In an incredible moment of transatlantic (or at least cross-Channel) psychic brother-sister connection, Michael apparently 'heard' me nagging about my lack of diary and he sent me the best of the best: a small-format Moleskine that will last me all the way to January 2008. Of course I had to make a cover for it. Urgently. As in within two hours of reception. So that explains the many mistakes and the rather sloppy finish.

I love it though.

It's felt.
It has my favourite Japanese fabric on it.
It has a secret pocket (for keeping secrets in) in which nothing could possibly fit.
Then again secrets don't take up that much space.

Did I mention that I love it? Thank you Michael!

Indian Summer III: The call of the wool

Indian Summer II: Sandy hands, summer dress, sour lemon

Indian Summer I: Sea shells shelved

Camille

Last week the mail birdie brought a gift all the way from America: Hillary Lang's Put-together book no 1. Hence this first attempt at recreating the wonderful Wee feeling: a denim almost-bear (I forgot the muzzle), once more mistaken for a cat by the plebs. She has been named Camille after Isabelle's summer love, which might explain her predilection for both sun and undergrowth.

Dancing feet

The new Camper winter catalogue is out. I swooned. Then did a little dance. An addict for the longest time, I now own only Camper shoes. Apart from being amazingly comfortable, fantastically beautiful and totally excentric, these shoes are also unbreakable. And this coming from a person who could never make a pair of shoes last longer than a season. My Camper boots, for instance, have been worn intensively for the last four years and they still look beautiful. What's more, I really like their philosophy (Camper's that is, not my boots', although actually, now I think about it, I like my boots' philosophy just fine).

Friday 6:45 am

Shodding

'Onze lieve mama' (literally our sweet mama) (which is how the locals sometimes call me; it makes me sound like Our Lady of Mercy, and how suitable is that? I ask you) had decided to save Julie (Isabelle's favourite doll of the moment) from the many ills resulting from walking barefoot. What's more, in an inspired witty moment, the said 'lieve mama' had decided to make her shoes that would match Isabelle's own pink wonders. So I toiled and I toiled all evening (and swore and swore and swore some more. How does one convince two pieces of felt to stay together when clearly they have nothing in common, especially not shape?).

And then, this morning, Murphy's Law hit again and it turned out Isabelle's pink shoes were MUCH too small, they had to be replaced at once. The cruel cruel irony. So on I toiled, and toiled and toiled... et voilà! le résultat...

Birthday van for Samuel

This adorable vehicle (it was tough giving it away, I distinctly heard some tissue ripping in the general chest area) is based on the one Hillary Lang, from Wee Wonderfuls, made. Hers was in turn based on a pattern by Aranzi Aronzo. And that one was based on ...

Birthday tote for Zora

Zora is a lucky girl, for this is by far the most technically advanced of all my (three, including this one) totes. For one thing, the fabric has actually been pre-washed! Amazing but true, this time I could wait long enough between figuring out which fabric I wanted to use and pouncing on my sewing machine (ahem... unless of course I happened to use fabric that had been previously pre-washed for another project that never materialized...). But that is not all: the tote also includes, oh luxury of luxuries, an inside pocket.

The only downside is the birdie. I'm going to have to give her a one-year guarantee on that one. It won't last the week. In fact, it's making moves to fly away as we speak.

Thrifting binge

Today was the day. Following two months of summer recess, our local Emmaus thriftstore re-opened its doors this afternoon at 1pm. I'll let you guess who was sitting by the door at 12:45, with her tongue lolling out in expectation ...

Seriously though... at 13:12 I was out, slightly bruised from all the elbow work, but the proud owner of an enormous bag of goodies (all fabric, yum!). My favourite: this chicken tea towel. I'm thinking chickens might just be the next big thing (once we're done with owls ...).

Temporary Exhibition

I finally took the time and trouble to hang up my Black Apple treasures. They look wonderful, Marc says 'it's the prettiest wall in the house'. Now I just have to be strong, and not order anymore... argh!

Big brown horse, small blue horse

Crafting news II: Little bear who thinks she's a cat

This little girl actually managed to get lost BEFORE having her fancy 'I'm all done' picture taken, so you're only getting a 'work in progress' glimpse.

Crafting news I: Michael's new i-pod holder

A tad gauche...

... but oh so cute, this little owl key-holder/pincushion.

Rainbow outside my window

Practicing Owls

Rainy Sunday doodling

Isabelle's first gyno/anthropomorphic painting

On the left, you see me ("Ik gaat jou tekenen mama, twee armen, twee benen, twee voeten, en je hoofdje, met korte haartjes, en je petit bouton op je front, en twee groooote ogen...), in the middle, Isabelle herself ("... kleine voeten, en schoenen, ik wil ook zo'n bouton op mijn front, kijk, mama, ik houd je handje vast...") and on the right Marc ("... ook twee benen, met schoenen, ... papa houdt mijn handje ook vast, dan gaat ik nu springen...").

Translation of Isabelian text:
a) I'm going to draw you, mama, two arms, two legs, two feet, and your head, with short hair, and your little button on your forehead, and two very very very big eyes...
b) ... little feet, and shoes, I want a button like that on my forehead too, look, mama, I'm holding your hand...
c) ... also two legs, with shoes, ... papa is also holding my hand, now I'm going to jump...

Nos vacances en France III: Libellules

Nos vacances en France II: Cache-cache

Nos vacances en France I: la riviere, la riviere...

Free

- Mama, mama, nu heb je korte haartjes, net als ik... Mama, mama, heeft een paard je haartjes opgegeten, net als bij Lena Lena?
- Non, c'est le coiffeur qui m'a coupé les cheveux.
- Mama, mama, heeft de kapper je haartjes opgegeten?

- Mama, mama, now you have short hair, just like me... Mama, mama, did a horse eat your hair, just as with Lena Lena?
- No, the hairdresser cut my hair.
- Mama, mama, did the hairdresser eat your hair?

Lena Lena, by Harriët van Reek, is our hero-ess. She drinks rain-tea, swims in her bath with her goldfish, and covers the naked body of her friend Marie with twigs and leafs, because it looks pretty that way. Here is how the horse helped Lena Lena get her nail polish-covered hands unstuck from her hair, by eating most of it, in a helpful kind of way...