And So This Is Christmas

 

Over the weekend, I dragged the big bins of Christmas decorations down from the attic.

Nephew 1 was so excited. His eyes, how they twinkled, as he opened box after box of carefully wrapped vintage glass ornaments.

Mine were filled with panic: visions of the two little boys, already deep in the grips of Santa Fever, invading my tiny, glass and glitter-filled space multiple times weekly, danced through my head.

So, back up to the attic with two still half-filled bins of decorations I went.

But the glass balls stayed behind.

In bowls and in vases, and on roll-reducing crochet doilies. And on much, much higher shelves than in years past.

And it looks like they're there to stay, at least for the next couple of years.

For this summer, those two will become three, and a new little bundle of awesome will be invading this space this time next year.

What a lucky aunt I am.

xo

The End of the Summer

 

 

Family vacation.

It's something that has happened every year since Nephew One was born.

After the summer officially ends, after the lifeguards and exchange students and families have packed up and headed back to reality, we slip quietly in.

My parents rent a house on the beach, and me, my sister, her husband, and two little boys happily help them fill all of the empty guest bedrooms.

There is nothing to do, nowhere to be.

Mornings are spent watching the sun rise, my mom and her oldest grandson wrapped in a blanket singing "Here Comes the Sun."

Breakfast is leisurely and often sugary. We watch the dolphins swim by while we finish the last of the coffee.

The days are spent on the beach, wrapped in layers if it's cloudy and cool; otherwise soaking up every last warm ray of post-summer sun.

Books we started reading months before get finished, as do the new ones just begun.

Nephew One pretends to be a pirate, a crab, a tractor moving piles of sand.

Nephew Two is still too little to pretend, he is instead content digging, splashing, and running after sea gulls.

 

 

 

At noon, a church bell rings. We call it the Beer Bell.

It is a signal to gather all of the towels and the toys into one pile and head in for lunch.

Naps happen.

For babies and adults alike.

As the sun sets, we need a stretch from our lazy day.

New wiffle ball rules are made: double points for hitting a beached crab or fish; triple points for an air-borne sea gull.

Cartwheels are done in the outfield.

Nobody wins.

Nobody loses.

Dinner is a poorly choreographed ballet of too many people around a too small stove, conducted and danced in our pajamas, sun-kissed skin and sandy hair.

Nephew One loves the dinner time jammie parties.

And the sleeping parties he has with his little brother, the two sharing a room for the first time ever.

Nights are spent playing Candy Land, checkers, and Vacation Rummy.

But only after we watch the moon come up, and the stars and planets twinkle.

We scatter on sofas and chairs and fall asleep, one by one.

We sleep early. We wake early.

We are lucky for this time.

We are happy.

And we will hope to do it all again next fall.

 

 

Don't Call It a Comeback

{image via}

 

 

By now, I'm sure you've heard all about the can of whoop ass LL Cool J opened on a burglar who had broken into his home.

Which I, personally, find to be pretty darn cool.

I mean, seriously, who in their right mind's gonna mess with the guy whose own mama told him to knock you out?

Speaking of which...

I'm "hanging" with Nephews One and Two one afternoon. Nephew One is being deliberately annoying.

Nephew Two is following his example.

Frustrated, I tell them "Your mama just called. She said to knock you out."

I chuckle at myself, and continue to sing the song for the rest of the day.

Nephew One wants to know what that song is (he inherited his Aunt's love of music, the lucky kid).

Foolishly, or perhaps in a flash of pure genius, I play it for him.

Both Nephews go Absolutely. Ape.

It becomes requested every time we get in my car. Suddenly, it's all Club Honda Element whenever we come up your street: Aunt Heather at the wheel, playing DJ, and two little boys in the backseat, busting moves you would not believe possible from the confines of a carseat.

Nephew One wants to know who sings it.

His variations on a name have included "LL Cool Guy", "LL Good Guy", and "Mr. Cool J".

But mostly he gets it right.

Lyrics, however...

LL had a nine that was easy to load. Nephew One, a lime.

"Rockin' my peers"? It's now "Walkin in my pants".

And my favorite: "when I got my jammies in my hand/man!/ooohhhh".

It seems he was also rapping about "destruction, terror, and mayhem" at dinner one night.

My bad.

Nephew Two's limited one year old vocabulary has him sticking pretty much to the "out"s in the chorus.

But boy, can that kid dance.

I've recently been sneaking "Goin' Back To Cali" into the mix.

Nephew One's already got the delivery of the chorus down perfectly.

Ladies, it appears, are not the only ones who love Cool James.

I know a couple of little boys who feel the same.

xo

You Say Tomato

A hot, lazy morning, sitting in the backyard with Nephew 1.

Having deep conversations, the sort of which you can only have with three year old boys.

A suggestion, can't remember whose, his or mine, to rid the garden of some of the tomatoes that are starting to overrun it.

Tomatoes so big we need to use two hands to carry them.

A colander, filled to overflowing with tiny cherry tomatoes.

He scolds me when I neglect to pull the stems off, telling me I "need to peel them", as he reaches in and removes the offending tops himself.

We throw the bad ones to the squirrels.

The rest we bring inside, washing them, sneaking a few into our mouths for a snack.

Mixing them with olive oil and fresh basil for lunch.

Hardly making a dent in our harvest.

Savoring the too-quick summer.

xo

Roll It, Pat It

For the past year, I have been swearing up and down that I was going to make pita bread.

A whole year.

I would say it, and think about it, and never do it.

It seemed daunting.

It has pockets, for flip's sake!!!

A loaf of bread, no problem. But bread with a pocket?

Not gonna happen.

Until it did.

A friend of mine made it and swore it was super easy.

He was right.

I've been making it all summer.

I've even got my young apprentice trained.

(He rolls surprisingly round circles for a three year old.)

So easy a kid could do it.

Who knew?

xo

The Handsome Work

Way back in May, on a particularly gray and rainy day, I spied a sad faced little boy staring out a rain-streaked window at the sandbox he so longed to play in.

And an Aunt simply cannot have a sad faced Nephew #1.

So off to my studio we went.

He had been saying for ages that he "had to make Moma (his curious and adorable name for Grandmom) some earrings."

I suggested a necklace for Mommy, too.

So we worked through the day, picking just the right flowers and putting them in just the right arrangement. I took over the tedious bits, attaching the clasps and the wires.

I handed over to him a stack of paper and a rainbow's worth of markers and paints.

He worked for hours on cards and pretty paper for wrapping, silent and serious.

Only once did he look up at me , declaring,

"Aunt Heather, you do the pretty work. And I do the handsome work."
Yes, little dude, you sure do.

xo

Sail On, Sailors

The week before Christmas was secretly spent toiling away with newspapers, paintbrushes, a needle and a thread, until the wee hours. Inspired by Ann Wood's beautiful paper mache and vintage textile boats (and following her detailed tutorial), I set about creating little ships for my nephews.

Two layers of high school and college sports scores from a shore-area newspaper (so as not to cover the boats with any bad news) were glued and smoothed down, and covered with paint. Green for Nephew One, blue for Nephew Two. It was, unbelievably, a first go at paper mache.

Masts and yards were fashioned out of bamboo skewers, soon to be joined by sails made from sewing basket scraps. My vintage button collection was pillaged for the rigging.

Through some great miracle, the S.S. Boys were ready to sail by Christmas morning.

Sail on, Sweet Boys.

xo

Happy Weekend

A very Happy Weekend to you, Dear Readers.

In the words of Nephew 1, this is the weekend we go "pour water on Nephew 2's head."

It's a weekend in which my non-church going family gets all gussied up, goes to church, and tries to behave like the, um, mature adults we all are.

It's a weekend that I become, once again, a godmother (kiss the ring.).

From what I understand, as their godmother, my job is to guide my sweet nephews along a spiritual path. Seeing as how I'm not a particularly spiritual person, I originally scoffed at this idea. But then I thought about all of the really cool beliefs and traditions in all of the world's many, many religions, and thought, I've got this.

I also thought about what it means to me, being their godmother. I wrote notes to the boys, telling them how I saw myself in this role to them, and how much it means to me. I told them about all of the things I will teach them, like how to curse in French and where to spot Alfred Hitchcock's cameos in each of his movies. I gifted them with savings bonds, and told them to use the money to see the world. I gave them books, and I gave them the world. Quite literally: a big blow up globe to roll and bounce.

In return, every day, they give me the world right back.

xo

Happy Weekend

Katharine Hepburn

Happy Weekend, Dear Readers! Are you enjoying it so far?

This past week was a good one, filled with music and city adventures.

A dear friend called and asked if I wanted to be his plus one for Wilco's taping

(if it's all digital, is it even called a "taping" any more?)

of Live on Letterman.

Umm, yeah!

So Wednesday, it was up to New York in the pouring rain. And y'all, Wilco brought it.

But before you get too jealous, Dave wasn't there. Good thing, too, 'cause the Ed Sullivan Theater is tiny!

He would never have been able to out run me ;)

The week ended with more music in another city in the pouring rain.

This time, Nephew One and I had a city date day in Philly, and we spent the afternoon enjoying a fabulous performance by Diego Garcia.

. The Boy is fascinated by music, and I just plunked his tiny self down on a folding table in front of the stage and watched him suck it all in.

He went home and played his guitar for mommy and daddy and Nephew Two, adding an introduction to his songs by way of counting. Like I said, he sucked it all in. He's been talking about the Drum Man and his drums and sticks ever since.

A very good week, indeed.

The coming week is looking a bit more low key, a little less musical. But with all the same rain.

It is fall, after all.

Enjoy the rest of your weekend, Lovelies!

xo

A Sort Of Homecoming



{pablo picasso}

Hello hello, my Dear Readers! Guess who's back ;)
I wish my MIA ways of late could be explained away with tales of mystery, adventure, and intrigue.
But alas, we must chalk it up to laziness.
Sorta.
I had a show over the weekend that needed prepping, and the usual other little things.
And I just could not, absolutely not, get my brain to settle down and write you all something lovely. Too many shiny internet-style distractions, too many lovelies to pack and price, and two nephews:
one who wanted me to pretend I was Zooey Deschanel (who, at the age of 2 1/2, Nephew One has a major crush on), while his tiny brother gave me hickeys on my arm.
But I'm back now, and ready to dive right back in and catch up with you all.
Good thing, too, because amongst all of those shiny internet-style distractions, I've discovered some real gems that I can't wait to share with you.
Gems that have not, as of yet, made the rounds across the blogosphere.
So stick around, my Loyal Friends.
'Cause I've got a whole lotta fabulous on the way.
xo



The Babysitter's Here

{image}

You guys! Hi! I'm still here! Are you?

It's been a bit...hectic...around here. Last week, I devoted a HUGE chunk of time to pulling every single little thing out of my shop for a complete and total re-shoot. And then, since there were all of those listings all ready being edited, it seemed a fine time to change titles and tags to better work with all of the search changes Etsy's made. Which is a lot of work. A lot. So much so that I haven't had much desire to do anything else on the computer. Sorry 'bout that.

(I know bunches of you are also on Etsy, and I'm wondering, how has the change affected you, if at all? What are you doing to stay relevant? I'd love hearing your input and feelings!)

And then, this week happened. My sister went back to work Monday, nearly two whole weeks before she had planned on returning. Which has not made for a particularly happy sister. Add to that the fact that her husband broke his ankle a week before, and is still waiting for a real cast. Which has pretty much rendered him a throw pillow, all propped up in the corner of the couch. And here's where I fit in: help take care of her boys. All three of them. But mostly the smaller two. The smallest of which has spent the better part of his brand new life strapped to his mommy's side. So, we are all of us in the midst of an adjustment period. It's going to be a long week, but certainly not a boring one. I hope you can bear with me as we continue to adjust. I promise to return to normal posting next week, with a few pop-ins between now and then.

Have a good one, my friends.

xo

Happy Weekend

{Image}

Happy Weekend, Dear Readers!

Can you believe this is the last weekend of July already?

Boot season will be here before we know it (Hooray! Boot season!).

This late summer weekend is going to be full of crafty goodness.

But, if I play my cards right, and don't put everything off until the last possible minute,

I just might be able to squeeze in a swim and a visit with the two most handsome boys.

How about you?

What do you have planned for this final July weekend?

Enjoy it, however you spend it!

xo

Sing Me To Sleep



This is how we rock, and this is how we roll.

Last Friday afternoon, Sister and I took Nephews 1 and 2 to see Gomez.
And though it was a rather stripped-down, two piece version of the band,
it was a far from boring performance.
Not that you could tell by looking at those two sleepyheads.



Babycello

One Sunday, back in mid-April, an early morning phone call came from my sister, saying that this would be the day Nephew number Two would be making his appearance. Breakfast and a shower happened, my bag was packed in preparation for a possible long night with Nephew number One, and then.....

I'm not very good at waiting. I paced a bit, fluffed some pillows, stared at the phone.

I needed a project. A small one, one that could be quickly abandoned, but something meaty enough to really get involved in.

I decided it was the perfect afternoon to make limoncello. Zesting a half a dozen lemons would kill a nice chunk of time. And, since it was baby day, I'd call it babycello, and we would toast his tiny self with it once it was ready.

So I gathered together my lemons and sugar and vodka, grabbed the zester, and the phone rang. Baby time!

My little project would have to wait for another day.

I picked up where I left off a few days later.

Lemons were zested and drowned in vodka, and the little jar was placed on a cool dark shelf in the basement.

Every morning for the next six weeks, right after turning the coffee maker on, I went down and shook my little jar.

After six weeks in the dark, I brought the little jar up into the bright daylight of the kitchen, drained my zest, added some simple syrup, and back to the basement it went for a two week rest (apparently, it's very taxing turning into a delicious Italian digestivo!).

Once my little cocktail had finished its rest, into the freezer it went.

If you've never had it, there's nothing quite like fresh made limoncello.

I first had it (very early in the morning) in a ceramic tile studio in southern Italy.

I'd had limoncello before, but never like that.

And from then on, I only wanted to have it like that:

fresh, smooth, and perfectly lemony.

So thank you, Nephew number Two,

for providing me with the need for a simple project while I waited for you to be born.

Cin cin!

xo

Happy Weekend!



{Esther Williams}



It's the weekend, Dear Readers! The end of another busy week. A week spent slowly catching up and branching out. A week filled with sweet moments spent with my two favorite little guys.

A week that ushered in a new season, and a week of pool-filled afternoons spent escaping the new season's heat.

A week whose end gives way to a possibility-filled weekend with nothing much planned. What does your weekend hold in store, Dear Readers?

Whatever you do with it, I hope you enjoy it!

xo

Duck, Duck, GOOSE

Look who recently flew into my mailbox, all the way from Portugal (and the loving hands of the very talented Virginia Otten, who has the most adorable little Etsy shop!):

Isn't he just so sweet, with his stripes and his little goose feet? He had only a brief stay with me, while we waited for his rightful owner to be born. I'm sure the two of them will have many big adventures.

Wishing you a delightfully adventurous day, sweeties!

xo
{ps- a very big and heartfelt thank you for all of your sweet comments about the New Boy. I promise to read each and every lovely word aloud to him!}

Happy Weekend

Hello hello, sweetie darlings! I'm not quite sure how it happened, but it seems the weekend is here again. What do you have planned for it? Anything fun? Mine is full of weddings and waiting for baby (there's something about spring and new beginnings...). Whatever the weekend holds in store for you, I hope it's absolutely marvelous!

xo

Some Like It Hot

The other day, my very pregnant sister called and informed me that the baby told her he'd come out if I made her some brownies. "Oh yeah?" I said. "Yeah." Ever so loving, sisterly back and forthing ensued. Around the time I finally cracked, she informed me that she wanted them spicy. "Spicy?" I said. "Spicy." And how, exactly, did she propose I go about this? She proposed thusly: "You're Betty Flipping Crocker. Figure it out." So figure it out I did.

The ball's in your court, Sister. I delivered the brownies. See what you can do about delivering that Boy.

(Have a spicy day, darlings! xo)