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Archive for April, 2012

Whether you are getting ready for Easter dinner or Passover, there are miracles in the air. I hope.  As usual I have gotten good and sick when there is much to do, but my hopes for tonight and tomorrow are high. I am a last minute kind of girl and I bet you I can do this. The “this” is a play store I hope to create entirely out of fabric, not wood, based the general idea of this “seat” we saw recently in a garden we visited:

And also on this general idea:

Source: http://domesticcandy.blogspot.com/2009/03/emils-kinderzimmer.html

As I gaze lovingly at the picture above, I am trying to sketch out a way to include the features of this store in an all fabric design that will fold up and not have to be a permanent feature of our already crowded little house. Maybe you could clap now?  I don’t mean because I’ve done anything, but kind of in the way that they clapped to keep Tinkerbell alive in the stage version of Peter Pan.  I really want to do this. Please send me get-well vibes, baby.

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One year for Christmas, I asked for a printer’s drawer and my father got this one for me.  (He was happy to tell me that this particular one was in great shape.) I wasn’t sure what I’d use it for. Naturally, it sat unpainted and empty in apartment after apartment, move after move.  In our family we refer to this as “time to season.”  It would seem, many items need to “season” before they are ready to use: for instance,  the  slicing tool my husband bought for me (on late night TV?) that slices your carrots or potatoes with ridges or  bizarre, waffle-like textures.  You need to let something like that sit in the cabinet for a good long while before trying it out. If ever.

Eventually, once I had a house with walls I could destroy/hang heavy objects on, I made this with paint and hot glue. The shells are from all different places I’ve been, but the only one that really matters is the orange chip in the top left. (It has VI on it…do you see it?)  I found it, along with lots of little pieces like it while at  the beach in Sicily with my grandfather. I was seven.  I remember he was going on and on about the Latin word for this and the Romans’ influence on that and how Odysseus himself  had traveled through the very water we were wading in. He also noticed the orange piece I’d just picked up and talked about how “maybe that’s a little piece of something from Odysseus’ ship!”

So stupid me carried those little piece of potentially historic pottery EVERYWHERE for a month until I got back home. Then I squirreled them away in the safest place I knew (the little tin suitcase covered in a pink plaid that I kept under my bed) and only peeked at them (but only for a minute) on special occasions. I figured I’d wait until I could drive and then take go to a museum.

Many years later, a friend’s husband saw the last, unlost piece on a shelf in our house and said, “Hey do you shoot?”

“Why would I shoot?  Shoot what?”

He looked at me, “Well, do you collect old sporting clays then?”

My mouth went dry. And even though I had long stopped believing that it was something that belonged to a bunch of very lost, legendary Greeks, I just felt empty for a minute.  I punished it for a while by putting it at the bottom of a flower pot to keep the dirt from running out with the draining water, but I always found it again. That stupid bright orange thing.  It kept coming back. Then when I started putting this shelf together, I decided to glue it up there with everything else.

I can look at it any time I want now that’s stuck in one place and it actually makes me really happy, that stupid piece of whatever. I feel warm when I see it,  especially if I’m missing that water…and boring lectures about Latin words and old Roman things.

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