Day 116: Tribute

January 20, 2011

Craft warehouse. Wonderful. I could get lost in there. Like a cross between Michael's and Joann's. Whoa. I went to look for a small picture album for Jacob. Of course, I got sucked into the quilting section.  So many fabrics, so little time. I was looking at fat quarters and bolts of fabric pondering how I could justify buying some when I came upon a delightful pattern for a cute little wallet. Best part of it, I could get two fat quarters to make it! A nice, older lady saw me looking at the pattern and came to praise it. She said it was very easy and that she's made many of them for all her friends. Even better. It took me quite awhile to pick out only four fabrics but eventually, with Jacob's help, I did. I don't want this to take away from my t-shirt quilt but I might need a something a bit lighter at times. 

Top three

I've cut up almost all my t-shirts. There are just five left. My favourites. I can't do it just yet. The more I've cut, the more they seem just like fabric. And yet, cutting these feels more final than the others. It means I can never wear them again. It might seem crazy, and maybe it is. But there it is. I even tried on three of them. Just to feel them again. Different, but familiar. My old 25-cent-second-hand-hand-me-down-t-shirt style. Not that too much has probably changed with my style except my t-shirts. It's been a conscious change, too. I've made an effort to get a few more "nice" t-shirts, which only means they cost $8 and came from Target. Now that I'm here, I miss aspects of the old style. Interesting. It makes me want to search the Goodwills out here for some good shirts.

As I've been preparing my shirts, I've also noticed their smell. It's a soft, pleasant scent that fills me with nostalgia. In some ways, it reminds me of my mother. Her closet always smelled so wonderful to me; lightly sweet, soft and comfortable, her clothes still carrying her scent. Sometimes, if I was missing her, I would go in there and just smell. It was such a reassuring smell. Maybe the way my shirts smell is my own scent. There's a mix of fabric, my skin and the ink from the pictures. It's not as sweet as my mothers smell. A bit more of the thread's scent. But similar as well with that soft, familiarness to it. 

One of the top five

When I got Jacob from his nap, we cuddled in the rocking chair in his room for awhile. Working on the quilt slowed me down, especially my mind, and then with Jacob, I could just sit with him, thinking of nothing else but how he felt and smelled and sounded in my arms. It felt wonderful.


Tonight the boy was lit up. For dinner I finally got him to accept more than just blueberries. A hashbrown and cheese stick also went down. The kid's going to turn blue one of these days. He wanted to play the baby bird game, something I remember from my childhood and my siblings. Obviously there's a lot about it that works. He's the baby bird and I'm the mommy bird and I feed him his food. We come up with elaborate stories like he's a baby eagle and I've caught fish in my sharp talons and brought it back for him. Or I came upon some people having a picnic and swooped down and got their toast because I knew he would like it. Pretty funny, really, but he just loves it. 

Someone needs a haircut. He looks like a hobbit.

After dinner, his action time. He wanted to play horses and gallop around the house. Around and around and around and around the house. "Gi-ee-up", he says. I have to use the yard stick as my horse. After going around enough times to get dizzy, I asked him, "Don't you ever get tired, horsey?" His answer, "No." I could've guessed.


Thankfully, though, we played some quiet games afterwards, before bedtime. He wants to "play" Apples to Apples sometimes which really means taking the cards out and putting them away while making the apples do a funny talking sound. I do try to absorb as much as possible because it's so wonderful. And I'm just pooped sometimes, too. I love bedtime.


I talked to my friend, Bats (Beth-Across-the-Street because we used to live across the street from each other) tonight. My oldest and one of my dearest friends (and I'm not just saying that because you're reading it). She has a boy a year younger than Jacob, and it's so wonderful to connect on parenting and life. Lots of changes in both of us over the past 19 years (holy shit) and yet I feel like we're at one of our closest points. Really awesome. I'm fortunate to have such a good friend in my life. And thankful that she's more of a night owl than me. Three hours makes a huge difference at night when I have to wait until 11 her time to even call. It's 10 here, and I'm fading.