Monday, December 15, 2008

Hand-Made Ornaments: Imperfect Little Perfections

Here are two of my favorite things about Christmas this year, wrapped up into one little idea:

It's chilly out, perhaps like yesterday it just snowed, and I'm snug inside with the thermostat on 65, sitting on the couch and sipping some tea. Christmas is on its way, and it's the first time I'm not going back to my childhood home for the holidays or visiting other folk's parents. This Christmas is uniquely my own and my husband's - this means we will create new memories and traditions, begin to collect our very own cache of holiday decorations, and because our little family is still so new, we get to start from scratch! Since Austin and I share a lifestyle that is all about trying to remain anti-commercial, eco-friendly, healthy, resourceful, and thrifty whenever we can, Christmas to us will be devoid of all the store-bought, plastic junk that most families buy in heaps to fill their homes (the most gross display of this concept can be seen in the 10-foot-tall blow-up snow globes that adorn certain people's lawns). Naturally, I'm steering clear of stuffed snowmen and aluminum tinsel, bold red and green bulb ornaments coated in shiny shellac and glitter, mechanical singing elves, and plastic holly wreaths. Instead, I'm trimming the tree with all sorts of home-made, one-of-a-kind ornaments that are full of character and in years to come will hold special meaning to us.


On my home-made holiday kick, I got my hand on an amazingly easy recipe/craft idea for Cinnamon Applesauce Ornaments (not to eat, just to hang) that you form with cookiecutters and dough and then bake in your oven. You can whip these up in a single afternoon. Not only will they smell great while you're baking them, but the decidedly delectable scent of cinnamon will remain on these ornaments for whenever you want to put your nose close to the tree and take a sniff.

Here's how you do it:

You'll need a large amount of cinnamon (depending on how many ornaments you want, could be anywhere from 2/3 cup to 1 1/2 cup, or you could go crazy and make a zillion of them, in which case you'll need more cinnamon). You'll also need an equal amount of applesauce. For both the cinnamon and applesauce, you can get away with buying the cheapest stuff around - they're still going to make awesome ornaments. If you're concerned about the footprints on the environment, buy organic and local. It's up to you. But if you just want to make a ton of these without shelling out a fortune, you can buy bulk cinnamon at your grocer's or get a bunch of jars from a dollar-store or chain pharmacy like Walgreens or Rite-Aid. Remember, you're not eating the ornaments, so as long as the cinnamon and applesauce smell, you're set. You'll also need cookie cutters, in your desired shapes, and some string, twine, or ribbon. Beads are an optional way to adorn the string with some added character. You could also use craft glue and glitter or paint to decorate the finished ornaments, but I personally like the natural, organic look of the dark brown cinnamon.









To make the ornaments, simply mix your applesauce and cinnamon together to form a dough.
It's going to be somewhat sticky, but if it's too sticky, add more spice. Too dry, add more sauce. Then roll out, or hand knead the dough to flatten and cut out shapes with your cookie forms. And don't forget to poke a hole for future hanging - a chopstick or skewer work perfectly. Then place on a cooling rack to air out for 24-hours, or if you want to speed up the process, bake on your lowest oven setting for 1 hour, then flip the cookies over and continue baking for 1 more hour. When dry, string ribbon or twine through the holes and hang the finished ornaments!

Note: Wax or parchment paper, or I've even aluminum foil, to line your baking sheet helps so the ornaments don't stick. Greasing your pan will discolor the ornaments...but if that's all you have and you're going for convenience, go ahead and try that. Just note that placing them directly onto a pan without a buffer can result in your ornaments being ruined when you go to remove them from the pan and they're crusted down. I have made this mistake, and getting them off the pan resulted in them breaking and crumbling.*

*In a recent batch, I sprinkled both sides of the flattened dough with nutmeg before cutting my shapes, similarly to how you might sprinkle a bread dough with flour to prevent sticking. This resulted in a faster drying time and allowed me to skip the parchment paper during baking. But it took away some of the cinnamon smell. It also gave the ornaments a more toasted brown color. I suppose it makes sense to sprinkle the dough with cinnamon, but I haven't tried that.

Friday, December 12, 2008

Holiday Hand-Mades, Lavender Dryer Sachets

Each year, around Christmas-time (which now for all intents and purposes extends to about a week before Thanksgiving, sheesh), when over-stuffed shopping carts are racing wheel to wheel through store isles to get the last Tickle-Me toy or I-nano gizmo just as check-out lines are both expanding and retarding exponentially, I become extra blase' about the glut of consumerism and material greed surrounding it all. I always say to myself, "This year, I'm going to conserve resources, save money, and use my craftiness and creativity to make all my gifts for loved ones." And even with three or four or even five weeks left until the holiday, I never manage to get in gear and actually do it. I might muster up the energy and time to whip up one small hand-made trinket or ornament to give to my mother, but generally I expend all my efforts in other tasks or pursuits. I mean, who isn't busy in December with their regular lives, their everyday chores, their jobs, their long list of prominent stresses? The last time I was completely carefree in spirit and had a surplus of available hours to do arts and crafts around the holidays, I was in the third grade!

But the spirit of Christmas 2008 has gifted me with a very opportune, albeit somewhat disconcerting, change in job-status, i.e. I'm currently unemployed for the month of December*. That translates to a plethora of spare minutes to actually do some mean hand-made making of gifts!

One of my first projects involved sacheting everything in sight! I recently purchased a large quantity of plain, hand-sewn, muslin drawstring bags online at a neat little website called Earthsong Fibers. I hadn't intended to use them for holiday gift-making, but the original intended purpose (to make silica gel sachets to string in mass quantity around our home in a desperate attempt to de-humidify the air) was both impractical and no longer necessary.

Here are the details of the Lavender Dryer Sachets I made:

Materials Needed:
Muslin Drawstring Bags
or 3"X5" Fabric Swatches (to construct your own hand-sewn sacks)
Acrylic Paint and Fine-Detail Paintbrush
Dried Lavender Buds
Sewing Needle
Embroidery or Heavy-Duty Thread

Super Simple Instructions:

1. If using pre-made bags, skip this step. If you are hand-sewing your bags out of fabric you've chosen yourself, sew two pieces wrong-side together along three sides, leaving one side open to stuff with lavender. Turn right-side-out. Simple enough.

2. Place a piece of cardboard or paper inside bag, so paint won't seep through. Paint a simple lavender motif on one
side of the bags. Let dry completely.

3. Scoop or pour lavender buds into the bags, filling almost to the top. Leave just enough room to sew the open side shut.

4. Sew shut, using tight blanket stitch...or any other sturdy stitch, so long as it will keep the lavender from spilling out during repeated dryer cycles.







Throw into dryer with laundry. The sachets will infuse your linens or clothes with a soft scent of lavender every time you use it. Lasts up to ~50 cycles.

















*Not to worry, friends, I begin work first thing come January as a nanny to a delightful eight-month-old, Anna. It's a great career change, and it will provide me with a lot more free time in the future, as well as unburden me from a lot of unnecessary stress. Yay!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

Many Things To Be Thankful For

The air outside was crisp and chill, but within our small Portland apartment nothing but warmth was felt this Thanksgiving day. Usually, I mostly dread the coming of this holiday - spending long, awkward hours with blood-family that I normally wouldn't grace with more than a handful of minutes of my time over the phone, the day is often spent being ridiculed or interrogated about vegetarianism, being teased with hunks of roast bird, being chided for taking smaller portions than the rest of my veritably-gluttonous relatives, staring at a television screen which portrays some mindless display of consumerism or aggressive sport, stuffing my face with processed and fatty junk side dishes - to fill a vast void created by my boredom - that I don't even savor and that I know will give me terrible indigestion and constipation because the main ingredient in several of them is either brown sugar or cheese-whiz... The whole thing really disgusts me. My husband, I'm quite positive, will agree that this type of Thanksgiving is exactly the opposite of how we would prefer to "give our thanks."

But this year, being newly married and having lived almost one year in our home, Austin and I made the wonderfully exciting decision to have our own Thanksgiving - a more eco-friendly, local and non-traditional version than our parents' that is based on our liberal values and health-conscious dietary tastes, in which we could create our own traditions, here at our home, with our preferred family of friends. We invited another couple over (they are unmarried) for a potluck-style vegan spread. The day was perfect - informal, festive, fun and delicious! We started everything around noon. I had tossed a few hand-selected dried leaves on the coffee table and plugged in the white stringlights over our kitchen doorway for decoration - nothing too fancy - and set out some wasabi soy-nuts for snack. The guests arrived and brought with them some fine fine (pricey and high quality) Stumptown coffee, because they're employees and can get the stuff for free or discounted, which they ground and brewed immediately. We drank and chatted and were merry in the kitchen for several hours. When we were all sufficiently caffeine-buzzed, we decided to get booze-buzzed by making my new favourite drink called a Bourbon Furnace. It's so simple to make but it's amazingly cozy and yummy on a chilly Fall day. Here's the recipe:

Heat 1 jug (approx. 1 qt.) organic apple cider in a pot on the stove, bringing to a steady gentle simmer. Steep 1 homemade (or store-bought) sachet of mulling spices (cloves, cinnamon, cardamom, anise star, nutmeg, allspice - I bought mine in pre-mixed bulk at Limbo) in the simmering cider for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and add a generous pour of Bourbon Whiskey to taste (probably 1-3 shots). Serve hot in a mug or mason jar. Garnish with a little lemon and a cinnamon stick (optional).

So while sipping our beverages and continuing conversation in our intimate little kitchen, we heated up the dinner fare, which included Spicy Thai Green Beans (not vegan due to shrimp sauce), Cooked Kale in Garlic Tahini Sauce, Roasted Veggies and Sticky Rice, Dinner Rolls, and as the main course, Pumpkin Tofu Manicotti. The Manicotti, which I prepared, hmph ha, was a sensation! So moist and flavourful, and surprisingly cheesy even though it contained not a hint of cheese (especially no Cheese-Whiz)! I'm going to add this recipe to my regular repertoire. It can be found here at a blog called Vegan Visitor. All of the food was amazing, and very healthy. Even though it was a hodge-podge of items that weren't planned in accordance with one another, the menu was surprisingly cohesive. And let it be mentioned that it all left the palette very content!

After filling our bellies not too full with good-tasting-but-good-for-you food, what better way to enjoy the company of friends than to play some games, as we did? A few mildly competitive rounds of Wii Boom Blox and a delightfully competitive game of Apples to Apples were just the ticket for the day, coupled with several glasses of the famous Bourbon Furnace.

And through it all, the deeply warm feeling of contentment and appreciation for my lot in life kept showing itself in a broad smile across my face. I have so much to be thankful for - a long detailed list that I will spare you of dear readers. But of those I'm most thankful - a loving and nurturing husband and friend, good health and great food to enjoy, as well as a tranquil and comfortable home - these things are exceptionally wonderful when I can celebrate them my own way rather than having to conform to someone else's traditions or lifestyle. And if you look at it that way, this is exactly what Thanksgiving is all about...sort of. The pilgrims came to America because they wanted to be free of the oppressive and confromist bonds of their mother country, England. They wanted to do things their own way, to rebell agianst the outdated and overbearing ideas of their parent government and church (even though it meant oppressing another group in turn, shame shame on them!, but that's not what I'm focusing on here). So, my Thanksgiving this year was not exactly a rebellion, persay, but in some form it was an expression of the freedom I've attained in growing up and away from parents to pioneer my own way of life with my awesome husband!

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Keeping House

When I awoke this morning, sun gently filtering through sheer white curtains and tickling my face with the light buoyancy of a feather, I sat up slowly and let my gaze settle in fragments upon the room while my eyes adjusted. Everything was in partial disarray, the week's hectic schedule having impaired my usual together-ness and tidyness. Clothes strewn across the papasan and at the foot of the bed and spilling out of the dirty clothes hamper. Tiny static-clinged millet hulls scattered everywhere on our rug as the aftermath of breaking-in my husband's new pillow, a sort of wedding gift from me (see previous article). Jeezischrist, what a mess, I thought. Is 7:22 am on a Sunday too early to start cleaning? And then, like a high-five to the bridge of my nose, it hit me: I'm a bonafide "grown-up," now. No more playing house in oversize dress shirts and aprons. This is for realsies. And I'm actually, not lying, excited about it.

The exact time at which the aging occurred is rather unclear. Whether sometime around last May, when I graduated with a Bachelor's degree in English and a half-finished novella in my portfolio, or sometime thereafter when, at the very under-ripe age of 23, I burnt out and stopped writing; or sometime in May of 2008, when I left a dead-end Shipping/Receiving position at the highly-coveted Powell's Books because it wasn't near enough to my original aspirations as a writer and left me jaded without a sense of purpose or drive; or when immediately post resignation, on the whim of some uterine itch of sorts, I jumped head-on into surrogate parent-dom as Assistant Teacher in the infant room at a fledgling childcare center, despite the fact that I had zero experience or training outside of childhood cuddles with my babydolls; or perhaps it happened all of a sudden when I got married last month to the love of my life and began burrowing a warm and nurturing domestic niche for myself and my husband. Hard to say. But with sleep-crusties still clinging to my eye lids, in my freshest early-morning ponderance, I suspected the full force of it really came about only yesterday. I bought my first vacuum cleaner. That's what did it. A Sears Kenmore Magic Blue canister vac.

After approximately 15 hours of admittedly anal-retentive research of Consumer Reports and Amazon.com reviews, and checking out "the merch" at local departments in the area, I settled upon this mid- to lower-end model with an additional three year full warranty by the in-town service center. And it's like a dream.

All morning (intermittently between blog-breaks, breakfast, and refills of Emergen-C) I've been switching between one attachment and the next, sucking up every mite from cracks and crevices, carpets, hardwood, upholstery, molding. And aside from the immediate gratification of seeing my home become gradually dust- and dirt-free, I feel oddly contented by this act. As the grime that has deflected previous vain efforts of broom and pail is whizzed away to bagged oblivion in my vacuum, and I slowly un-settle the sediment of our day-to-day existence, I feel my own self settling in its place.

It kindof reminds me of a book I'm currently reading, a memoir by Haruki Murakami, about the role that running has played in his life. Singularly meditative by repetitive motion to a point of hypnotic mind-placidity, Murakami describes the act of daily running as an excercise of the psyche as well as the physical body. In addition, the hard training and marathons run by Murakami throughout his adult life act as benchmarks, in a way, of the growth and transformation experienced as he ages and "settles" into the various stages of his life journey. For those not familiar with Murakami's work and life, at the age of 59, he's pretty much done it all, trying his hand and succeeding as business owner of a bar, author of countless stories and novels (in both Japanese and English), translater, and competitive runner, among other pursuits. I would say he's lived a very full life.

Maybe it's a stretch, but like running to Murakami, for me vacuuming this morning with my first major domestic purchase as a newlywed took on a highly meditative aspect and brought a profound sense of identity or place (for lack of better words) to this era of my life. Not that cleaning house is all of a sudden going to be a role I dutifully adopt as wife - chores and cleaning tasks are for the most part shared in our household. I'm not a Harriet to my Ozzie. But what I mean is this: like the space I occupy with my husband must be worked at regularly (by all parties) to be kept clean and healthy and functioning for the both of us in a comfortable manner, my adult life, too, including all of its parts (job or career, relationships, responsibilities, mental health, physical health, intellect, etc.), must be kept up, clutter-free, and regularly maintenanced more and more as I mature. And though it can sometimes seem tedious or daunting, it's something that I enjoy, because it brings about so many benefits. Life becomes smoother and more enjoyable when I keep it generally organized and free of ugly, grimy things (metaphorically speaking, now). By constantly re-assessing the current state of my life on a habitual basis, getting rid of any unwanted "dust," and coveting what is fresh and beautiful and pure, I find that I'm truly content and can fully accept, even enjoy the process of growing older.

And so I finish typing, and move to the next room, picking up my telescopic vacuum wand to continue the process. The vacuuming will never truly be complete, because each day a new layer of dust will come wafting in my front door or be dragged by muddy sneakers onto the floor, and it will build and build until I take out the vacuum again next week. But I won't worry about next week. All I can focus on is today. How tidy can my life be made, today? Well, with the help of a good vacuum, it can be pretty comfortable. And I'm telling you, it feels really, really good to live my life right now.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Lull by hulls


What's more cozy than this? The lights are lowered, you've just donned some snuggly PJs, or slipped into your silky peach-fuzzed bareness, and are crawling beneath the sheets of your bed. The soft fabric falls gently, like a whisper upon your skin, and settles. Your heavy burdened head, swimming with thoughts of un-finished to-do's and the dizzying minutia of your day, nuzzles deep into the warm hug of a nook in your pillow, the channel that you've created with your palm to fit your head just-right. It's gentle and smooth against your tender cheek yet supportive and firm, enough to keep all eight pounds of your skull aloft throughout the entire night, but forgiving enough for your oh-so-fragile neck to be cradled safely in its friendly curvature. You breathe slowly and deeply, taking in the soothing scents of lavender, chamomile, rose, catnip (yes its true). And a familiar face grows larger in your lidded vision-scape, the face of Dreamland coming to take you, enclosing you in his sweet embrace like a warm womb, to a healing REM state.

But what if you're not sleeping on the right pillow? What if your pillow for all intents and purposes stinks? Getting to this place of sleep nirvana is a lot more difficult when your vessel to sleepy time is a lumpy, flattened slab of synthetic fluff? Sleeping on a pillow such as this can leave you restless, grumpy, and with a sizable kink in your neck the following morning. I know. I, too, have once or twice chosen the wrong pillow to bear the burden of my weary brain at night. After weeks of fitful sleep, tossing and turning, and waking with painful aches in my neck and shoulders which developed into an almost constant head-ache at the base of my skull that didn't go away with massage or ibuprofen, I turned to the internet as my guide. A day spent squinting, pointing, and clicking in search of the holy grail of pillows came up bountiful.

The wonder pillow I speak of in the begininning of this veritable info-mercial exists, my friend, and is made by The Pillow Company . Their Millet Hull night pillow is a godsend. Filled with organic, sustainable, and ethically harvested millet hulls, it's perfectly hip for those of us who choose to shop "green." And it's healthy. As opposed to other pillows on the market (I won't name names) your mind can be at ease knowing that you're not inhaling harsh synthetic chemicals from flame-retardent factory-produced products. And no ducks or geese were harmed or discomforted in the making. Add some organic aromatherapy herbs, such as a "dream pillow" mix (I got mine at Limbo Inc. in SE Portland) inside the zippered cover, and slip on a high thread-count organic cotton case, and you can surely rest easy the next time you lie down for a long snooze.

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Home-spun Wedding

The time ticker shows my wedding is a mere week away. Saturday will be our one year anniversary. Awwww, isn't that adorable? Yep, folks, we crazy kids fell in love so fast. It does happen. Austin and I are doing it our own special way (whether my mom thinks it's "special" or not is irrelevant).

For the new-comers, here's a quick taste of the details: We're, for all intents and purposes, eloping here in Portland, in a friend's backyard. The natural decor of foliage in the yard will be all the frill we need. Guests include the Officiant and two witnesses (friends who live in the city). No more. The vows, a sentence or two, but heartfelt and candid. Simple. We say this stuff to each other every day, so why list it all verbatim? Laid back, low-key, down-to-earth...call it what you will, we're just two people who love each other and wanna get hitched without all the fuss and superfluous ceremonious bullshit that means nothing to our simple, easy-going lives. Throw in a couple bottles of wine, a little something sweet to nibble, and an hour or so of talk and laughs and smiles and kisses, and that's our perfect little wedding. For the occasion, I bought a sweet white cotton eyelet sun dress from Saks (on clearance, god knows I could never afford to shop there normally) and a honeydew green sash for a punch of color around the waist. I opted out of flowers, due to the steep cost, low-sustainability factor, and sad transience of their inevitably wilting existence on our dining table.

But at six and a half days remaining, I find myself sort of scrambling (not frantically, but ever so graciously) to get the last-minute details together. I still have not found suitable footwear (two pairs of sandals already bought and returned prove that a comfortable yet flirtatious, and by all means thrifty, sandal (in white, no less) is a hard commodity to come by. In the end, I'm not die-hard opposed to flip-flops. Austin is without his suit, but I'm adamantly assured that I shouldn't worry, he'll get it today or tomorrow or later this week. Also, we have no wedding rings to exchange. Tattoos may be applied in the future, but we've found that a tasteful and timeless design is an even harder commitment than marriage. Oh well, what's a ring to a lifetime of love and fidelity and companionship? Announcements still need to be printed at Kinko's self-service center, but I already have the template ready in a folder, good to go. Whatever.

Still, somehow I found the time and freak, out-of-nowhere inspiration yesterday to design and hand-make this felt flower hair clip to wear for the big day. A quick Google "local business results" search of felt crafts and supplies revealed an adorable little shop on E Burnside where I bussed to buy white and pink felt, along with some embroidery thread. A glance online again for a model white flower (went with the rose, because my favorite, the calla lily, would be harder to render in near-to-one dimension) and I started cutting and sewing. Approximately 2 hours later, I had petals ready to be assembled. I opted to sleep a bit, and the following morning at 5 am or so, I picked it all up again and finished the project. I'd say it took me four hours, total. it set me back by about $2.50 in bought materials, 90% of which are still un-used for future crafting endeavors.

I think it's just the perfect "something new" to complete my outfit, and it will definitely become a fondly remembered heirloom!

(Image uploaded later - Our Wedding Day. True, I said I wouldn't have flowers, but at the last minute, our gracious and amazing officiant Jannie donated those beautiful calla lilies, out of her own home, along with the flower in Austin's pocket.)