by the flight of a pigeon

In the age of tapped out thoughts on a keyboard, there is nothing quite like a hand written note delivered via snail mail.  A concept so lost in time that the once steady postal service is losing a need in our society.  A habit so deeply loved by all but practiced by few.  A quick email fades in the light of an old fashioned letter.  Choosing your paper, finding that good pen of yours, including a little something perhaps a dried flower or a photograph in the envelope, even the stamp are all enjoyable processes.  Children adore them and I know of no adult who doesn’t get giddy at the sight of a non bill related parcel in their mail box.

Upon making our last move, with a good friend who had a little one my Miles was just smitten over, we decided that we should attempt to make our two pen pals through out the coming years.  Every Tuesday at ten (give or take depending on the other little one’s nap on such day) my little man and I sit down and give the old pen and ink a whirl.  Miles dictates what he would like to tell his girl and I am his scribe.  While at times there is cajoling and encouragement for the task at hand, over all it is a tradition he quite likes.  Of course the illustrations (circles.  lots of circles and occasionally a few lines which he tells me are my big head.  hm.) in our weekly mailings as well.

There have been others.  We write to family.  To old friends.  To each other.  Sometimes, we pick at random.  Look out, you could be next.  So with all the incoming mail signed sealed and delivered to my boy a keepsake case was in order.

Nothing to it.  I have said it before and I will say it again, I am a novice at sewing (to put it lightly) and a poor direction follower.  So I am in no way inclined to include directions or how to.  It is just some thick fabric I purchased at our art schools store with a minimum amount of stitches sewn through.

Recently, a dear friend sent Miles and I each respectively a sweet and thoughtful letter.  Illustrations were not sparse.  Photographs included.  She completed a check list she knew not existed.  Now that is a cool chick.  So, in hopes that she gets the hint, (you know, that we should be pen pals) we made her an upgraded  version of miles keepsake envelope.  This one will hold LOTS of mail.  And it has a button!  Fantastic.

I hope your mailbox is piled with lovely letters today.  Who knows, there could be one from us!  Have a wonderful Weekend!

so much love

I can’t stop this lingering feeling that I have made a wrong turn in not staying in that tiny northern and very snowy town.  With every ray of sunshine, mosquito welt and grain of sand, I miss this lady and hers.  

Thanks for the lovely and oh so quick visit.  I miss you.  

Too many “see you soons…” this weekend for my liking.  But if nothing else,  the amount of love and positivity in and out my front door over the last few days is impossibly infectious.  I believe the sounds of laughter could be heard spilling out into the green green grass all weekend long.

And that is nothing to complain about now is it?  

one is silver and the other is gold

I suppose I learned the importance of friendship from my very own mama.  I grew up with the sounds of laughter, stories being told, clanking wine glasses, and general happiness seeping up the stairs many weekend nights.  There was always another woman about that I felt completely at ease with, could tell a secret to, or just hang out with.  I don’t know if all girls feel this way about their mom’s friends or if I was just that lucky.  Each woman had (and still does) some quality about them that I admired.  I looked at the way my mom just kicked back and had fun with her ladies and without even thinking about it I followed in suit.  Well, I know, not at this very moment.  But I am working on that ok?  I have my ladies who are friends from afar.  Always and forever.

I know my Miles feels the same exact way as his mama and babcia alike.  Today he was just in tears wanting his little lady from our “old home” to just come over.  “My want her to come to my new house.  Tell her my want her to Mama! Please!”.  This went on for a heart breaking length of time.  Big ol’ crocodile tears streaming down those chubby pink cheeks.  He made me cry right along with him I think.

Friends are so important.  They make you breathe easier when a problem arises, they give you a shoulder when that problem can’t be solved and when you are lucky enough, they give you something to laugh at/with too.

One of those lovelies happens to be pretty much a neighbor to my mom, and is quite something with the craftiness let me tell you.  I am not sure I should even aspire to have her knitting ability because it is just uncanny.  It surpasses anything I have ever even seen.  She recently handed off a knitted work of art to my Miles.  It is a grey-blue cabled cardigan that is so thick and luxurious.  It is the kind of soft that you can not stop rubbing against your face.  And this does not come from solely the sheep.  The size of the needle, the type of design and the manner in which it is stitched all play a factor.  Sigh…that woman has true talent.

Well, besides her knitting capabilities she is also a seriously amazing interior decorator.  Her style is simple, unique and oh so classy.  Her man-friend makes these fantastic branches draped with gifts from the sea.  I have made a bunch now and Miles thinks they are pretty much the coolest.  He loves talking about the claws, the shells, the egg cases or whatever else I have found on the shore that deemed worthy to display.  This one I made just for him.  I let him stand up on his chair and examine each one.  When most of the time it is “Don’t touch!” or “gentle hands!”  this one is his and he can do what he pleases.  The shells are light so if they drop no little babes wandering below could get injured.  It is placed right above his identification posters.  (Which he is pretty good at too may I add)

Friends who inspire you.  How very, very nice is that.