if you are a dreamer, come in,
if you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
a hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer,
if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire,
for we have some flax golden tales to spin,
come in!
come in!
the words of shel silverstein

i felt this was an appropriate way to start something new.

on a recent trip to ikea i happened to meander across the fabrics. i am a sucker for fabric. not to mention a sucker for imitation marimekko fabric! (one day i will own the real deal and it will be fantastic) thank you ikea for bringing great prints and colors to those who appreciate beauty but have empty pockets.
little by little i'm teaching myself to sew. slowly i'm building up a collection of things i've sewn, these curtains being the most recent. not having a sewing machine i just hand stitched the curtains, surprisingly it didn't take very long. right now there is a gentle breeze coming in the window and watching the curtain sway makes me very pleased that i decided to sew curtains rather than buy some.
the fabric was not the only item purchased on my trip to ikea, a lovely aloe plant managed to find its way home with me. it was a good adventure.

the transition from dorm to apartment has been grand. never have i fully felt comfortable in on campus housing. dorm life always felt temporary, something about all my belongings stored away in rubbermaid containers just didn't ever feel like home. since moving into my place i immediately set to making my room feel permanent and mine.

so one night i got a little crafty. i tore the pages from a book i rescued from the library's trash pile (the title of the book was something about swedish contributions to plant breeding... not really something i would consider reading but the pages were yellowing beautifully and it would be a shame to waste) and made a clothesline around my room pinning the pages to twine.




i took a line from a gwen frostic book, "to those who see," which so happens to be a favorite of mine, and painted "they know each wind" on small pieces of craft paper and pinned it to some more twine.

in the end i'm happy with the results. on windy days i get a lovely breeze in my window and the pages of the books float about happily on their clothesline home. it has a calming feeling, the complete opposite of dorm life! just what i wanted for my new place.

Binker

Binker - what i call him - is a secret of my own,
and Binker is the reason why i never fel alone.
playing in the nursery, sitting on the stair,
whatever i am busy at, Binker will be there

oh, daddy is clever, he's a clever sort of man,
and mummy is the best since the world began,
and nanny is nanny, and i call her nan -
but they can't
see
Binker

Binker's always talking, 'cos i'm teaching him to speak:
he sometimes likes to do it in a funny sort of squeak,
and sometimes liked to do in in a hoodling sort of roar...
and i have to do it for him 'cos his throat is rather sore.

oh, daddy is clever, he's a clever sort of man,
and mummy knows all that anybody can,
and nanny is nanny, and i call her nan -
but they don't
know
Binker

Binker's brave as lions when we're running in the park;
Binker's brave as tigers when we're lying in the dark;
Binker's brave as elephants. He never, never cries...
except (like other people) when the soap gets in his eyes.

oh, daddy is daddy, he's a daddy sort of man,
and mummy is as mummy as anybody can,
and nanny is nanny, and i call her nan...
but they're not
like
Binker

Binker isn't greedy, but he does like things to eat,
so i have to say to people when they're giving me a sweet,
"oh, Binker wants a chocolate, so could you give me two?"
and then i eat it for him, 'cos he teeth are rather new.

well i'm very fond of daddy, but he hasn't time to play,
and i'm very fond of mummy, but she sometimes goes away,
and i'm often cross with nanny when she wants to brush my hair...

but Binker's always Binker, and is certain to be there.

- A.A. Milne

the poem we named our childhood dog after. Binker. for the past 15 years that dog has been a blessing.
goodbye dear friend.

the start of something new.