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The oft-cited example is Proust and his d@#m madeleines. Those sights/smells/things that sometimes unexpectedly but with surety when encountered emotionally transport one back to childhood in a flash.

Letting down the hem on a pant leg (yes, that’s what this odd picture is) recently triggered it for me. In particular the tell-tale white line of the old hem took me back without warning. My mother made dresses/jumpers/pants longer, anticipating an extra season or two of wear by letting down the hems. She covered the scar of the old hem with a trim. I remember a burgundy corduroy jumper with two rows of trim. Money must have really been tight because that hem was no more than a narrow turnback of fabric.

For an instant that fresh-faced child was looking at the ironing board. . . ironically a pair of glasses fitted with progressive lenses sitting right there. Past and present accounted for.

I’ll skip covering up that indelible white line with rick-rack. No need to get carried away with that reliving one’s youth business.

 

Brittany Stinson weighs in: “I don’t know if many applicants usually explore the mundane in their essays—that seems to have taken a lot of people by surprise.”

She was accepted to five Ivy League schools and her essay is on shopping at Costco with her mom. Quartz did a pretty darn good story about it.

Here’s what Original Thinkers do that leads to success. If only I could perfect procrastination I, too, might be original. And veja du (yes, that’s a real thing).

I’m always on the lookout for ways to access creativity; these five tips should help. However, beware of No. 3 (third one in the list; a numbering snafu lists it as 1. . . after 2. ), based on personal experience and Wednesday’s post.

 

Last Year’s Lavender

Lavender
Sunday’s warm weather inspired me to start an annual task that’s tedious but necessary, slightly sad but with the promise of joy: Cleaning the lavender bed. The yard drops off steeply along the front walkway so the bed gets lots of sun, has good drainage – a good spot for lavender. For years we were graced with an enviable abundance of fragrant blooms. Trimming back the faded first bloom ensured a second bloom.

As with most things, time hasn’t been entirely kind. The older plants are no longer as vigorous. The gnarled old growth at the base of those plants looks like miniature grapevines – ruggedly attractive but wholly unproductive. At the front of the bed, the oldest plants have a horizontal rather than vertical habit. The newer plants grow upward, balancing the overall appearance. Scattered gaps in the bed are reminders of varieties unable to withstand Midwestern winters. Perhaps the poor seedlings didn’t read the labels promising sufficient hardiness. They didn’t know they were supposed to survive.

This year I’m taking the task slowly, pruning with more thoughtfulness, kindness. The joy these plants can still give has to be coaxed out gently; trimming properly and, just as important, leaving well-spaced branches should reward us all in a couple of months.

After picking up the tools, I put the bin of trimmed branches in the garage, the pale scent of last year’s lavender filled the air.

 

Truth in Soap

Truth in soap

Last Friday I went to a little shop named Eden. As the name suggests, it’s full of lovely things. Picked up some Swedish soap and got a faceful of reality with it. All for the price of six bucks.

Cover letters are the death of me, so this is priceless:

Quartz’ Cover letters of the famous

And

Design*Sponge’s 2013 April Fool’s Cat*Sponge.

The best way to knit is the way you knit best, with thanks to Ancient Arts Yarn.

Happy Spring, Happy Thanksgiving, and the Fate of Two Birds

An uncomfortable rite of spring happened last Saturday. A wayward bird ended up in the firebox of the woodburning stove. Citrus, the big orange tabby, alerted us with his rapt attention to the stove’s glass door. The well-practiced sequence of events: Close all interior doors (pets safely away from the action), draw all the blinds, prop open the back door, and, after a little cool air has flowed in, open the stove door.

Blessedly, thankfully, this little peep popped out, bounced around the floor for a minute, then, catching the breeze, turned to the bright opening and quietly flew out.

We’ve learned to let this almost-annual event unfold on its own. No attempting to grab the bird, no shooing the little peep to the door. Just stand back and let the bird find freedom.

Kind of a reminder from the universe to lay the best path, and then let events play out. Sometimes the best thing is to take it in and look for the small joys.

The other bird? Part of tight-budget living is taking advantage of sales. In November, that’s turkey, so an extra bird or two goes in the freezer. A few months later, a turkey dinner again sounds delicious, and moving the large frozen bird(s) to get anything out of the freezer becomes tedious to the point of aggravation.

So the other bird in this story became a holiday meal. And I took a moment to be grateful for the experiences, enjoying the unfolding of my life.

 

This is almost painful to watch – the precision, the time involved, and the prospect of fudging something and having to throw it out. I wrote about all aspects of home decor/design for years and transferware usually got a bum rap.The hand-painted crowd turned their noses skyward at the mention of it.

Although much has been automated in modern manufacturing, this video gives me a new respect for the art form–and the fact that there’s a YouTube channel devoted to the topic:

Spode Blue & White Transferware demo

Whew –

That requires a humorous intermezzo:

Batman Lego movie trailer

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