finger thumb

movie night

Not much to post here today. Spent the day after my birthday doing all the things I didn't do yesterday. That is to say, there was lots of food prep, bum wiping and never ending laundry. But I spent a lovely evening out at dinner with my Hubs and then topped it off with a movie. We went and saw Les Miserables, which if you like either costume dramas or musicals you should definitely go and see. I was a big fan of this particular musical in my teen years (totally wore out my cassette tape of the Broadway version) and Eponine's "On My Own" was the theme song to my sad, unrequited-love filled (or should I say 'emptied') adolescence. I was very careful not to sing along in the movie theatre. Because I hate it when people do that. But I was singing in my head the whole time. Also, I have a headache now from quiet-crying through I'd say a good 8th of the whole thing. I'd hate to sob and disturb the people around me (plus also, I'm not a pretty crier) so the effort of holding it all in, with a handkercheif pressed against my lips and that awful shaky-ness in your rib cage every time you inhale under your tightly crossed arms has me just exhausted. Plus that whole catharsis thing. Though I have to say, there were a LOT of close-up shots in that movie, and after two hours of basically sitting what feels like three inches away from Hugh Jackman's giant singing face I feel like I know his pores on a first name basis. It was that close. Don't get me wrong, it was good, but just... intense. Also, I'll be very surprised if Anne Hathaway does not get an Oscar. 

Oh, and on a side note, do you ever take you're shoes off in a movies theater? Yeah, I hope you are shaking your head "no" right now. When we sat down this evening (in our assigned seats, because it was some special kind of theater where you were assigned your seats when you bought your tickets, and then you are charged three bucks extra for that honour. Bah.) I turned to Hubs and said "What's that smell?" He of course said "Don't ask me" because he's been congested for about a month and can not smell very acutely at the best of times. But instead of the pleasant odour of popcorn and light industrial disinfectant that movie theaters usually smell of, there was a distinctly, well, cheesy smell. And not like a good cheese, but an old, left out overnight beside the heating vent cheese. I kept saying to him "It smells like feet I think?" And he kept rolling his eyes at me. Anyhow, about ten minutes from the end of the movie, the lady two seats down from me, picks up her white, standard issue nurse-style Reeboks and starts lacing them up. At which point I poked Hubs and pointed surreptitiously in her direction so he could see that I was not crazy. Because THAT lady was CRAZY. Honestly, who takes of their shoes in a movies theater? Sheesh.

ach..

I had such big plans to blog. I had pictures chosen and we had an exciting new making/food adventure that I was already to share with you, and then... the Baby decided not to go to sleep. UNTIL 10:00! I have no idea what that was about, but it was about 10:18 before he decided to lay down and sleep. Decided. I'm telling you, that kid, in the words of that pop psych guy on that Simpson's episode "he does... what he feels like." Its not as though he finally fall asleep as I rocked or nursed him. Nope, after a good long cry and a walk around the house and some quiet sitting, I finally set him in his crib, he looked up at me, and then turned around and lay down. And then I got the heck out of dodge before he changed his mind. 

Anyhow, you should go and read these excerpts from Emma Thompson's journal that she kept during the shooting of Sense and Sensibility. One of my top ten favourite movies of all time. Reading her journal made me feel like I was there when they were shooting it. Sigh. I can dream can't I. Also, it made me laugh my head off. I will never read "Squirrel Nutkin" the same way again. 

what is wrong with people

Hubs and I had a rare chance to go out for a movie the other day. The stars aligned, my parents could babysit, we had free passes, and were not too tired. So we headed off to the local googoplex to see what we could see. We decided on Haywire, an action flick, which normally would not have been my first choice, but I'd heard that this was an spy movie which had a woman in the lead role, so naturally my curiosity was piqued. Also, rumor had it she was an actual woman who could really fight, and not a supermodel/stick figure with big boobs. I had high hopes.

And I'll tell you what, I was not disappointed. The lead, Gina Carano, is a Mixed Martial Arts fighter in real life, and that woman can kick some ass. And she has the muscle mass to make it believable. And sure, she was still a very atractive person, but I was so pleased to see that the movie did not give us so many of the femme fatale/female action hero movie cliches. For example, at no point did she run really far and fast wearing high heel boots. I'm telling you, I HATE that in movies. I don't care if you are Wonder Woman, it sucks to run in heels, and you would definitely not be able to outrun someone in flats. Also, there was no gratuitous scene where she a) showers for our the viewers benefit b) gets dressed, from the lingerie up for the viewers benefit c) undergoes a makeover d) pulls a gun out of her garter belt/nether regions e) seduces someone to 'gather intel' f) acts like a silly helpless woman in order to get past some guards or something. Sigh. I could go on. There are so many annoying spy woman cliches. But I'm happy to say that the character Mallory Kane, did not do any of these things. Yes, there was a scene where she had to dress up while she was undercover, and she looked really nice, but they did not make a big deal out of it, or show her getting dressed, which was a nice change. 

But make no mistake about it, this was a violent movie. And of course, even though I knew that the main character was a woman (which is why I went, after all) it was still shocking to see her first fight scene, because its weird to see a woman and a man in a real fight. I winced to see her get hit, because it looked so real. Stephen Soderbergh was the director, and he went for an interesting sort of 60/70's spy flick feel, with a lot of the fight scenes shot so your could seen both actors and their whole bodies the whole time. Which made it both less sensationalistic, and more real. There were not a lot of cuts in those scenes, or close ups, or sound effects. So it was less gory and theatrical, but also more distressing in that you didn't distance yourself from it in the way that a more cartoon-y fight would. 

Anyhow, I say all this to set up the fact that... guess who was sitting next to me at this movie. Wait for it. An eight year old. AN EIGHT YEAR OLD. And her ten year old brother. With their parents of course. There were hardly any empty seats in the theater by the time we got there, so we didn't have much choice, but I certainly hadn't anticipated sharing my movie going experience with Cindy-Lou Who. Serioulsy, what is WRONG with people? That is so not a family movie. Let alone a kids movie. It made me feel really annoyed with the parents. I didn't say anything to them because its not illegal to bring your kids to a violent movie (just stupid) and saying something wouldn't have made a difference. I'm figuring that if you are the type of parent to bring their kids to a movie that has been rated 14A, you are probably not going to be shamed into a better perspective by a stranger's opinion. 

Anyhow, it did put a bit of a damper on my movie going experience. And then the next day I saw this. 

                          Its a documentary about the representaion women in popular culture and the media. It was very, very compelling. A friend of mine posted this trailer on facebook, but I went and found that you can watch the entire documentary online here. Totally worth it. Very well done and informative. I'm not going to go on about it too much here, because you can just watch it for yourself and see how you feel. It gave me a good pinch as it were, because you do get so used to seeing the way that women are portrayed all the time, that you forget that its not, well, normal.

Anyways, I didn't come here today to preach (just complain really, a slight difference). But its just these things have been on my mind, and its good to think about important things once in awhile. Also, I just finished reading Cinderella Ate My Daughter: Dispatches from the Front Lines of the new Girlie-Girl Culture by Peggy Orenstein, (a really good read by the way, and important for parents of both daughters and sons. I know its made me rethink some of my parenting and I have boys, not princess obsessed little girls). So I'm in feeling very informed on the whole feminist angle. And you know, whatever is swirling around in my head usually ends up on this blog. I know I usually post cute kids stories or recipes and quilts, but I thought I'd change it up for a worth while cause.  But don't worry, I'll see you back here tomorrow with a thrifting post. 

third trimester

So I'm 28 weeks now, I believe that puts me officially in the third trimester. But at the same time, I'm not sure. I always was bad at the counting/calculating part of pregnancy. But BabyCentre assures me that 28 weeks means I'm in the final trimester. Eeek. So much to do before this baby is born. First of all, I still have to get through Christmas, finish the new baby's crocheted blanket, finish the Little Dude's baby memory book and keepsake quilt, buy a double stroller, wash all the baby blankets and supplies that have come out of storage, make our house look less like short term storage and more like a medium-term home and somehow turn a walk-in closet into a nursery. Oh, and pick a name. 

I am totally stumped on names. At this point I'm taking suggestions. Quick, if you had to name a baby boy RIGHT NOW, what would you call him? That's the question I'm randomly asking people I run into these days. I totally stumped my librarian this afternoon. She was all like "That's way too much pressure" and I was all like, "tell me about it".

And I'm starting to feel unwieldy. Its beginning to get awkward to get in and out of bed. I'm told that the best position to sleep in when you are pregnant is on your left hand side (something about best blood flow to the fetus, least strain on your kidneys or something along those lines). But I'm, like, a lifelong right hand side sleeper. Or at least since I got married. Which was about a dozen years ago. So I go to sleep like a good girl, on my left with my little wedge pillow tucked beside my belly and a bigger pillow between my knees. But I'm now in that part of pregnancy where your body gets you ready for life with a baby by waking you up intermittently throughout the night. Also, I'm back to nightmares again. Less baby specific, but still enough to wake me up with a gasp or a wail. Hubs sometimes wakes up too, but he grunts and groans and complains how hard it is for him to fall back asleep. Then, less than 5 minutes later he's sawing logs and I'm still laying there, uncomfortably on my left hand side, wondering when I might fall asleep again. Sigh. (and he had the nerve to rent a scary(ish) movie tonight. The Road in case you are wondering. Usually I'm all about a good dystopian post-apocalyptic future film, but knowing that this one dwells heavily on a father protecting his small boy from the evils of a barren and corrupt world makes me leary. Sure enough, I had to leave the room 15 minutes in, never to return. I'll probably have nightmares even though I didn't actually see it. Just the thought of things is enough to scare me these days.) Anyhow, I digress. Sleeping positions, right; sometimes, if I wake up after 6:30 am, I allow myself to grunt and groan and roll over onto my right hand side, to fall asleep for the short remainder of the night. An hour or so on my right hand side won't hurt, right? And man, does it feel good. Feels like coming home. Like eating comfort food. Like opening a new magazine and putting on new socks at the same time. awesome. 

But its not all complaints. I still love the feeling of being poked and prodded and kicked from the inside. And finally, the other day, the Little Dude was able to feel it too. I've put his hand on my belly to feel it a couple of times before, but he doesn't usually have the patience to wait for it to happen. But a couple of mornings ago, he came and climbed in our bed when he woke up, and we were hanging out, playing 'criss, cross, applesauce', and talking about what he dreamed about last night (diggers every time, naturally) and the New Baby was kicking like CRAZY, very rhythmically and predictably, and we asked him if he wanted to feel the baby kick and he said yes, so Hubs put his hand over L.D.'s hand, and put it on the right place on my belly. And 'boomp, boomp' two good strong kicks happened right away.' And the Little Dude's face lit up in the slow smile, like he finally got it, that there is a person in there. "Baby kicked!" he said.

And there we were, all cuddled up in bed together, our whole family. 

thrift score

Today was Hubs birthday, so he took the day off from work, and we spent the day involved in a variety of his favourite activities. He slept in and was woken by a Baby with a present. Then, after breakfast we headed into town to do some shopping for him. First stop: Princess Auto. He loves this place, and the Baby liked it too, as there were many, many things with wheels to look at and touch. I'm not such a big fan of the heavy scent of new plastics and fresh solvent that hangs in the air. Kind of an 'au de hormone interruption' if you ask me. But we did not linger too long, in part due to the fact that the Baby seems to have a relatively strong dislike for sitting in the seat of a shopping cart. He says 'no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.....' almost the entire time he is in one, with varying levels of frequency and intensity. He never quite cries or has a tantrum, but he makes it pretty clear that he would much rather be on his own two feet. Requires a bit more monitoring that way, but if there are two of us on hand, thats fine with me. 

Anyhow, after a brief stop at a very expensive bike specialty shop (to buy me the kind of clamps that cyclists wear around their ankles to keep their pants out of the spokes. I'm using mine to clamp the rolled up edges of my quilt as I work it through the machine. Works quite well too) we were off to the main event. Le Village des Valeurs! Woohooo! Twice in one week almost. I don't usually like to go so close together, but since last time was a very fast trip, I was not worried that I'd shopped it out. I'm so glad that Hubs and I have such similar interests. I mean, we don't buy the same stuff really, but we each know what the other likes, and will be on the look out for their interests too. Which totally paid off for me today. You'll see what I mean.

Here's what I found:

Sweet little coin purse. I never pass these up. I have a pretty nice little collection, and I use many of them. 

Lovely pillowcase. Perfect soft, muted colours. I can't wait to embroider on it.  

Adorable vintage BOY'S vest. So hard to find vintage boy's clothes. Hubs is not such a big fan of this, but I love it, and I'm sure Baby have occasion to wear it. It is a little polyester-y, but c'mon, look at those buttons and those horses!

And here are some lovely vintage science books that Hubs picked up. Awesome pictures. I'll totally be scavenging these for embroidery inspiration.      

But this - THIS is the score of the day. And I didn't even find it. It was all Hubs. We usually go our separate ways as we work around the store, and at one point Hubs, all excited, came and found me. And let me tell you, he's not a man to get excited easily. 'Weren't you saying you wanted one of these just the other day!" he says.

I really did not know what it was at first. But I'll give you a clue:

Ah ha, now you have an idea.

Oh.

My.

Gosh. 

He found me a vintage Singer Sewing Machine! The Black and Gold kind! Like I've been wanting! On HIS birthday! And he made me buy it, even though it was a bit more than I like to spend at the V.V. (ahem$60ahem).

I'm so excited. I went online and did a little research (seriously, what did we do before the internet. Go to libraries, I guess, which would work just fine, but the immediate gratification of the internet is truly thrilling) and its a 99k Portable Electric Model which was first introduced in 1921. My particular machine was made in 1957 though, in Kilbowie, Scotland, according to information I found on the Singer Sewing Machine site. Isn't that great? And do you know what else? I was able to download a PDF of the original manual. How awesome is that? And people thought the internet would only be used to download porn. No sir, not when I can find vintage sewing machine manuals. Anyhow, its gonna need some work, because some genius actually stored it with the cord wrapped around the machine base, and the needle turned down through and puncturing the electrical cord. So I'm pretty sure that will need to be replaced. 

So the rest of the birthday involved trips to the park, some of the nicest weather we've had so far this year, celebratory eating (sushi dinner out with the Baby) and sci-fi watching (scary-ass movie called Pandorum topped off with chocolate and a couple of episodes of 30 Rock. That show makes me laugh out loud. So a very good day all around.     

bits and pieces

Look! I started.

Woohooooo! Its such a lovely feeling to have a nice big exciting project to work on. And although quilting is not as good as knitting or crocheting in the take-it-anywhere-do-it-anytime category, it still has that nice incremental repetitive quality that I like so much. I'm using this book called 101 Nine Patch Quilts by Marti Michell, and its got a lot of techniques for how to make your patchwork go faster. I'm definitely learning a lot, which is nice, because being a self-taught quilter is all good, but not always efficient.  

Also, despite the fact that I've got this lovely big project to work on, I've been itching to make something else. I want to make a bag. And here's my inspiration:

We read a LOT of kids books around here, and of course, there are some I read over and over. And every time we read Curious George Rides a Bike, I notice this sweet newspaper delivery bag. 

I totally want one. And how cute would that be, right? I'd make it in a nice coarse woven cotton in a natural linen colour. And then I'd applique the star on, in red I think. And then the text would be printed on in either black or navy blue. Very simple. Let's see if I ever get around to it. 

And the last thing I want to tell you about is this hilarious blog post from over at Wiener Dog Tricks . It is entitled: Set Yourself Up a Personal E-mail PMS Reminder So You Don't Think You've Lost Your Ever Lovin' Mind or that You're Always This Fat or Angry. I think that pretty much sums it up. And it is a fantastic idea. Go and check it out and laugh and then make it happen. Those 'Dark Days' will never sneak up on you again.

Oh, and I just watched the movie "I've Love You So Long" (original French title "Il y a longtemps que je t'aime") which was one that Hubs picked up, and has been sitting around waiting for us to be in the right mood to watch it. Mostly I'm in need of fluffy escapism these days, and I'll tell you, this movie is not those things. It is, however, a fantastic movie. You just have to have the patience for subtitles and be ok without lots of action. But I would totally recommend it.