yum and yuck

Let's start with the yuck, shall we?

One of the first things people will tell you about New Mexico is that we have some weird bugs around here and boy, I'm telling you, that we do!

Check out this thing which we spotted one night in the garden. It was huge, about 4 in (12 cm, my German friends!). Some research in Lewis' library, turned out it was a whipscorpion. While looking extremely gross, it is not poisonous. Good.

Be happy in the yard, but - poisonous or not - please do.not.ever.again.breed around my house!

And do not ever again let your baby sneek around in my kitchen in the morning. Especially not before breakfast! Next time I might just squish it to mush.

This time I had mercy. There you go, little gross guy!

Today I found this cardigan in Lewis' closet. It is very dear to me for several reasons. It was one of the early things that I knitted for him, and it was made from my own handspun yarn. For the very first time I had found prepared roving and this whole world of the wonderful American fiber community with its many resources had just let me peek in for the first time. I believe I even spun this with my first spinning wheel, purchased sometime early 80s, that I had brought with me from Germany after I got married!

While I look at the yarn and the knitted piece and think it looks yummy, there are critters, that feel the same way... They dared to choose this wonderful little cardigan as lunch/dinner/breakfast. Boohoo.

I'm still debating what I should do with it. It is washed. Nuke any leftover bugs in the Antarctica/freezer? Take about a hundred more pictures and toss it? Cut off the buttons as my mom reminded me? Unravel and reuse what's reusable? Not sure yet. For now it is resting on the sofa.

Time for real yum, and don't think about mashed whipscorpions any more, will ya'?!

Inspired by my friend Ulrike I recently made new sourdough and after failing several times (which results in bread with huge airbubbles and just not the right sour flavor) it seems that I finally got it right.

This is every single bit as good as it looks.

It is the reason why Fiona and me can't wait for breakfast these days. She calls it "Mamabread".

Lewis however complains and wants store bought bread. I tell him, that this is as good as it gets: all natural, whole rye, whole wheat, sourdough starter (again rye flour and water and the right kind of bacteria), sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, salt and water, that's all.

I tell him, what makes it truly the best is that it is made with love!

I say, eat it!

Yum.

...and another one

I guess that last sewing session got me into the groove.

I made a pattern to work with the vintage handles.

Zippered and lined inside pocket in the middle, orange vintage velvet used as lining for outer layers.

Bellissima.

celebrating

Among all the exciting things that happened last week was the 8th birthday of my little girl.

She loves gymnastics.

She loves Webkinz.

She loves Build-A-Bear-Workshop.

She draws and paints beautiful pictures.

She loves all things artsy and crafty.

She adores her big brother.

She stands up to her big brother, too.

She loves school.



She loves to cook and snack on the ingredients.

She loves broccoli, peppers, tomatoes and carrots .

She loves icecream. No, that's a huge understatement. She could live on icecream.

She's a good sport - except when she's tired.

She loves the dresses that Oma and me make.

She loves animals, stuffed and real.

She loves her Oma. And her Opa.

And she loves her family.

We love you, too, baby.

studio news

I have dusted off the sewing machine and spent last night and this morning playing with some awesome fabric.
The idea was to make a totebag as a gift for a friend using some funky kinda southwestern fabric from my favorite fabric store Hip Stitch, "random" measurements and design.

Well, it worked, take a look!

I also figured out how to make a label - stamped it on a ribbon with fabric paint. I put it on the inside of the bag, next to a cell phone/accessory pocket.

This is my favorite girl - just look at that grin!

Happy birthday, Dana!

home

I have yet to mention what gave me the energy to write not just one, but even two posts in one day/in the middle of the night yesterday. It is a story of arrival and growing roots.

In the course of the two years that we have lived in Albuquerque I have come to meet quite a few wonderful, creative and talented women, some through school/kids, some in places as odd as Trader Joe's or Furr's, through the shared passion for knitting/sewing/crafting or at Hip Stitch.

I love them all, different as they are, all beautiful, energetic, inspiring and with a great sense of humor!

Just this summer after I came back from Germany I was greated with the warmest embraces, enthusiasm and thoughtful phonecalls. I realized - maybe for the first time in a very conscious way -, that I had found true friends and that Albuquerque now really has become home!

A few months before that I had started first Friday/scrap'n knit (or as Karen calls it "happy scrappy"!) craft night and started gathering these women once a month in our house. Mostly it is a group of about 10 women, and we do all sorts of crafts, scrapbooking, card making, embroidery, knitting, you name it.

I think I can safely say that we all treasure this event, the talks, showing off the latest projects, just being together.

Last night was one of those evenings, and while I did not get a lot done on my knitting project, I felt happy, content and energized after everyone had left.

At some point I was asked, if I'd ever like to go back to Germany to live there. I answered, that I am very happy, where I am. I said "I love America and America..?" I stopped to think and then Fiona filled in for me and said "...and America loves you!".

On the crafty side...

You may know, that I knit a lot on our vacations. (No, I won't tell you how much yarn I take along - you may tell on me!)
Hawaii provided lots of high quality knitting time even though there was not a whole lot of beach time, because you need to drive quite a bit to get around. Big Island, as in BIG island, duh.
Good.

I finished these, first to be admired, ahem, seen here a long time ago.

Next was this, the beginning stages to be seen here. While making socks can get boring on me - even with the most exciting yarn - this little thingie was all fun. The feel, drape and color of the cotton/soy/bamboo blend by Lana Grossa are just awesome and it wears beautifully!

The real thing looks much better, trust me.

I also whipped out this little girls bolero for my cousins sweet daughter Emilia. The yarn was certainly nothing fancy, but soft and cuddly. And that is what matters, believe me! - I learned it the hard way!

I think she liked it.

Vintage photo Friday

This is a reeeeaaaally good one and I've been looking forward to posting these!

This lady is my great aunt with the wonderful name Emma. She was one of the few members of my mother's family, who left the small village where she grew up, and had her own little grocery store in Frankfurt. In fact she owned that type of store, that also goes by the expression "aunt Emma store"(German converted into English)! I still own some vintage linen dishtowels with her hand embroidered monogram. ES.

She had one son, whom she raised without her husband (who had died in the war) and whom she adored to no ends. She was a hard working woman and certainly deserved nothing but the best, however, her son ended up as the black sheep of the family (ah, I love that expression. Feel it melt on your tongue. Black. Sheep. Of the family...!)


He was married three times, his last wife being the daughter of a bank director, which probably finally provided him with the cash he needed for a "60s-yuppie" life style. He once lured my father into giving him an antique piece of furniture, without ever giving him the promised vintage chair in return. I'm assuming he got the bank director's daughter with a similar maneuver.


I'd say it is not surprising that he died the way he lived - young, in his early 40s in a tragic car accident, a head on collision, fatal miscalculation of what was meant to be a quick passing of another car. Drunk? Who knows.



Can't you tell somehow that he was kind of a bad boy?!

His name was Erich. I liked him.