I’ve just put up some photos of the studio taken before it goes through its miraculous transformation. Five gray walls, one red wall (yes, there really are six walls), one walk-in closet with the door put on backwards, four windows in need of replacement, one ceiling fan that’s seen its last revolution, and a tiny red mystery door. I hope to have some new pictures to share on Monday. New meaning “showing progress.”

I guess I accidently skipped out on doing the obligatory Halloween post. It wasn’t intentional, really. That morning, we went in town and spent some time in a cafe, intending to write while Dash slept. Naturally, Dash woke up almost immediately, and since he doesn’t enjoy sitting in his car seat, that means at least one of us wasn’t going to be writing. Neil volunteered (he’s a whole lot more prolific than I am anyway so that seems fair) and I got to writing. After taking a few pictures, that is.

Rasta baby.

You mean it’s not real?

Shocking!

There’s my boy.

Me in disguise.

Then back to writing. I suddenly noticed the wireless meter going down, down, down, up, up, dowwwwwn. The friendly barista with devil horns told me that in fact they don’t have wireless since they think it takes away from the community feeling within the shop. I guess I was hijacking someone elses the whole time. Oh well. We packed up and moved on since I hate community. Kidding, but I did need wireless.

The rest of our day was filled with exploring the town, finally buying my birthday sewing machine, and seeing a gorilla ride down the street on his bike. You know, the usual.

Happy Friday everyone. Have a great weekend! If you’re free, come on by and help me paint. Seriously. I have beer and I know a really good pizza place.

The HappyDashery received its first honor.

Both the LaLaLa Lamb and the Vintage Ecko Kitchen Utensils made it into the Dude, What’s Up With YOUR Kitchen treasury on Etsy.

Thank you CircleOfTheSun!

You may not have noticed, but for the past few days I’ve actually been working.
Like, for money. I’ve been full-time mommying for exactly nine months (happy birthday, dashy!) and have finally figured out how to juggle that along with some freelance. I know, I’m really really slow to catch on. One thing I totally figured out, though? Mommying doesn’t pay well.

So work on my desk means that I really need to not be blogging right now. I need to get to work on this book (which incidentally, is quite interesting. i typically work with fiction, but this one is all about how to raise a better family, go against the mainstream, be a better person, etc.).

I’ll leave you with this, which I am currently coveting:

My friend Cassie made this and it’s been getting some good press (Here and Here). The Golden Opulence bracelet is a limited edition run featuring vintage brass chains and a single nugget of Copper Rutile. Each bracelet will be unique since no two Rutile gems are ever the same. Get yours now, but leave one for me ok?

People, the beauty that is a rummage sale happened to me this weekend—twice over. Though “beauty” might not be the right word since it was still me and dozens of other bargain hunters jammed into a church basement looking at boxes of old stuff that may or may not have contained used electric razors and calendars from 1993. But Robyn and I went there to win, so we elbowed our way toward the good stuff.

By the way, a great time to have a baby on your person is when you need to get ahead in a crowd. No one is going to shove the lady with a baby in the Bjorn. Borrow one if you have to.

I didn’t have the patience for the boxes upon boxes of fabric, or maybe it was that Dash in the Bjorn made it difficult to bend over and rummage. I left that to Robyn and she came away with the coolest black and white fabric with a cops and robbers motif. I headed to housewares to score three pyrex dishes in three patterns (gold acorn, spring blossom 1, town and country). Also, I may have brought home some Holly Hobby Colorforms for no reason whatsoever. Total expense: Two dollars for a bag full of retro fun for my house (not for the shop this time!).

And if you should happen to see a documentary on “Hot Young Moms at Rummage Sales” could you let me know? I think I might be the unwitting star. I saw a few men with cameras while I was there but there were so many other people and I was so determined to find cool things before they did that I blocked them out completely. Robyn told me after that they were following me around somewhat obsessively and she overheard them telling someone they were filming a documentary. I know I was a bit crazed with bargain hunting but I think I’d remember signing a release. Just sayin’.

Rummage Sale Number 2 (Electric Boogaloo) was just like the first one except that there were no people, no stuff to rummage, and no one shooting priceless footage of “Hot Young Rummaging Moms: Watch Out For Your Pyrex!” Sadly, we missed out on day one of the sale and so, likely missed out on the goods. Overheard while we were shopping: “This is just what’s leftover.” But I did score a great old album called “folk western” for Dash. Songs like Rock Candy Mountain, Dixie, Lone Prairie, etc. Supercute illustration on the cover drew me in. He’s my little cowboy.

Sunday I made a giant list (as I’m wont to do) of things to get done during the day and then promptly ignored it and decided to head to Bradbury Mountain State Park for a short hike with the family. Apparently, everyone else in Maine had the same idea because they were all there with their walking sticks and seven children under 10. But it was beautiful and warm (in the 70s) and we managed to take a really good family photo. Finally!

Hope your weekends were splendid.

My weekend plans for being a good housewife and churning out pots of soup, salsa, apple butter, and more were foiled by a simple runny nose.

That’s right. Dash, at nearly nine months, came down with his first cold. The snot ran, the eyes watered, the baby cried, the sleep was interrupted. It was both sad (it was impossible to look at his little face and not feel bad for him) and pathetic (it was equally impossible not to laugh).

And then, just like that, it was over. In about 24-hours he cycled through snotty misery and came right back out. Please, please, please let this be a sign of how he’ll react to any colds/flu/bumps/bruises in his future.

And to celebrate, we forced him to wear a wig and pose for a picture. You know, it’s what they call Good Parenting.

Why must you people mess with me? Why, Mon, why?