Quince and Quire

Flying Books

We started a project a few years back: a book, filled with art and letters, that the kids mail back and forth to their grandparents. We call it the Flying Book. We've been through a few of these books now; the photos show our current editions, one for each child. I sewed a piece of their artwork to the paper cover.

 

Each child draws pictures and writes a few thoughts for the grandparents. Sometimes they ask questions, like, "What do you like best about autumn?" Sometimes they tell them about the art they've made. 

 

The kids often have seasonal themes.

 

Everyone enjoyed writing about and drawing birds that they see in their neighborhoods. 

Sometimes we get wonderful memories of a grandparent's childhood--as when my mother recounted a story of the time she was given a kitten as a party favor.

The four-year-old dictates to me. I like that there is simple honesty in his correspondence, and that it always ends with those most important words. I love you.

 

I love you very much. We can never hear it, or read it, too often. 


 

The Green Kingdom

Like many things on this earth, it looks best up close. The details spring to life. The greens reveal themselves.

 

And, as with so many things the seven-year-old likes to make, it was spontaneous. "Let's make a terrarium!" Before I could mention research, or necessary supplies, she was gathering up the potting soil and rummaging for an empty glass container. 

 

She uprooted her solo succulent; she collected mosses from our property; she pulled tiny cones from the nature shelf. She dumped in the dirt, and with gentle hands she patted in the plants. 

 

I know there are books that would tell us how we should have done a terrarium (we'll see how the various plants adapt to their new home). I know there are colored stones and glittering sand that we could have purchased. I know that we could have tried to make a more dynamic arrangement. But why? Why not embrace what we have, and see what it will become?

The world, in miniature. The forest, cupped in her hands. The magic of making beauty: of finding beauty in small places.

Giving and receiving

We rang in the new year with this fabulous pig bell, made by the 7-year-old. When you lift the string, the two little legs peeking from beneath the bell make a pleasant clatter as they swing about.

 

We received many wonderful handmade gifts this Christmas season, including this nativity, also made by the 7-year-old.

 

My talented friend Amber of Shagbark Studio gave us these lovely sachets, scented with balsam, in a handmade fabric basket. So nice for tucking in the linen closet!

 

My mom stitched little velvet acorns and that handmade strawberry gnome came from A Toy Garden. 

 

I made a doll quilt to fit on the decidedly not-handmade doll bed, using the crazy-bright colors my daughter loves.

 

Gifts need notes of thanks, which we made this weekend, each in our own way and according to our talents. (That bottom card uses a craft punch to make the evergreen needle design; the lettering I did quickly with nib and gouache.)  

Happy New Year!

Flurry

We've got a flurry of flowers and paper and glue and tape happening here, as we make special surprises for mothers and daughters. I'll let you decide who made what for whom!

Heart

I hope everyone is enjoying this day as much as we are! I sent the kids off to school after a breakfast of heart pancakes, ready to deliver yarn-tied bags of treats to their buddies. My Valentine cards went out on time (a good thing) but I didn't photograph them (not so great), so I put that last photo up to show you last year's labor-intensive push-drill Valentines. Now I'm off to bake a chocolate cake! Happy day to everyone!

Love in linen

I've talked about her before. You remember, perhaps, the rose petal beads, the summer dresses sewed in calico, the homemade root beer. Maybe you don't remember the paper collage valentines or famous hobo bread, but I do. You must remember the quince tree, and the quince jelly. And of course, all the ephemera of a century gone: bookmarks, postcards, needle books, brittle photographs. Having survived the depression and the wars, she saved everything.

She still does. But now my grandmother lives in a small apartment, and I have received many of her beautiful vintage things. She sent me a nice stack of linen handkerchiefs. Knowing that I would never use them for the original purpose, and knowing my grandmother wouldn't mind if I re-purposed them, I used one to sew a little gift for her. 

If it looks grandmotherly, well, it is, of course. A small sachet in rose-colored linen, filled with lavender, edged in ivory lace, backed in a tiny star-print cotton. I thought she might like a summery smell for her bureau. I am happy to have a small gift, from the heart, to send to her in two weeks. I'll be including some of the children's art in that package, and a collage valentine, too, just as she always sent to me.

Using and storing children's art

The New York Times had an article about displaying children's art, and it got me thinking about what we do here. Each child has an art table in a dedicated art space, with lots of materials out and many more available with supervision. This means we end up with daily works of art. What to do with it all?

 

The most basic approach for the most basic art, such as these index card portraits, is to simply put them up on the bulletin board. I use a pin with a clip so that we don't poke a hole in the drawing.

 

For monthly favorites and seasonal themes, we have this very large frame from Michael Olaf. It has a birch frame and a long sheet of plexiglass that lifts out easily. I should have included a person in this photo to give you a sense of scale. You can figure it out by knowing that the two pictures on the bottom left are 9 x 12 inches. This frame hangs at a child's eye level, about three feet off the floor, so that the kids can see things easily and add art as they wish. 

 

Sometimes we use this little wood easel frame for tabletop display. 

Over in doll world, where my daughter keeps all the doll clothes and supplies that her grandmother and I have made for her, we have an informal display on the wall above the doll bureau. She chose a few of her favorite drawings of dancers and fairies and we arranged them spontaneously. 

One thing you will notice is that nothing is permanently framed. I have set aside a stack of things I particularly love, but because they are so often odd sizes, I need to take them to a frame shop to have them framed. I just haven't gotten around to it. In the meantime, this assortment of rotating display options seems to suit the children's prolific output. When they are tired of one drawing and ready to hang another, the older pieces get added to a giant bin, which I will sort through someday when I have time! At the very least, I do label each piece with names and dates.

 

Finally, we often like to give the art as gifts. Here my daughter made a picture for a good friend on her birthday. I sewed the drawing to the cover of a blank Moleskine sketchbook. Perfect to encourage more art!

What do you do with kids' art in your house?

The handmades

Before we get into a week of winter sky-inspired crafts, I wanted to show you a few little things that I made this Christmas for the kids. 

I wanted to avoid buying more, more, more. I thought about how I could extend the play value of things they already had and, when possible, use materials that I had on hand. Here's what I came up with. 

I made this dress from my own pattern for one of my daughter's favorite dolls. The fabric was left over from a quilt project. I was so happy to finally do tidy, tiny seams on the arms and neckline. I know the beads are a bit much, but when you're six, the more the better!

For that same doll, I made a little sleeping bag to keep cozy on cold winter nights. It has been very popular so far for having play dates at other dolls' houses. I put that big pleat in to make it easier to get the doll in and out. The diamond-print fabric is by Lecien. 

Little brother got a sleeping bag for his friends too, and I'm showing it to you in all its rumpled reality. He really likes it so I'm happy to find it crammed next to his pillow with a gnome tucked inside. I made three berths to accommodate the many small friends he likes to carry around. The handles are good for swinging the friends around as though they are on the ferris wheel, which is important in my son's world. My mom made that wee cat on the left back in the '80s. The map-print fabric is Japanese and came from an off cut of a different project. I had no pattern and made things up as I went and it turned out fine.

And then I made a little scarf for my son using upcycled plaid flannel pajamas. The seams on the pjs were worn out and frayed despite repeated mending, but the fabric itself was still sound and soft. I added some star print flannel and a band of red. 

The last project was one my daughter and I did together for our local friends. We grew herbs this summer, dried them, and packaged them in glass jars to give as gifts. My daughter was so proud of this long-term project! It was fun and easy and brought so many nice memories of our summer garden.

Merry and bright

This tiny tree is made from scraps of wool felt that my late great-grandmother used to make all the family stockings. She did most of her crafting 30 to 60 years ago, and that felt is still bright and beautiful! I made this little tree, a mere 6 inches tall, based on the pattern in this book. I just cut a series of circles, starting with the smallest and gradually increasing the size, using the previous circle as a pattern for each level. I stitched through the stack with needle and thread, leaving the tree intentionally loose so that the layers can move a bit. This is another great last-minute project, and one that can be done easily with children participating. 

It makes me so happy to look at it! 

Flowers from my mother

When I was ill this summer my mother and I spent many evenings together; while watching over me she occupied herself making tiny crocheted flowers from bits of leftover yarn--some Noro, some Rowan summer tweed, a nice unbleached linen--using patterns from this sweet book. 

My children love these flowers; they have become props in all sort of imaginary play with fairies and castles and the like. 

The Girl With A Thousand Hats pleaded for just one more, using one of the new flowers. The yarn is something soft and lovely from the stash, a mix of silk and merino, I believe (I need to pay attention to these things someday), which I knit in the round with no particular pattern. It fits beautifully! I'm sorry my model wouldn't show you . . . 

Let's talk about lunch

My son saw his big sister heading off to school with special lunch napkins and decided he needed his own set. (You can see sister's napkins here and here). He and I chose some special fabrics from superbuzzy and got to work. What do you think? I think it's hard to go wrong with pop art strawberries and bento box doggies. The almost-three-year-old is very pleased. I am too; this was the perfect project to get back into crafting: easy, colorful, and quick.

On another note, we took a cue from maya*made and got Planet Boxes for on-the-go lunches this year. They are great! Streamlined, sturdy, stylish and plastic-free! We love them. 

Snow glory

I know the rest of our region seems to have leapt into spring, but here on our little hill, we've still got lots of snow. We went for a family snowshoe expedition on our land: through the forest, across the creek, over the marsh, and back again. 

Hope your weekend was equally adventurous!

Scraps, and what to do with them

My daughter received a Kathe Kruse doll for Christmas, and it has quickly become her favorite. While I prefer cloth dolls, stuffed with wool, my daughter really responds to the hand painted face and life-like features. (I like the fact that while the doll has vinyl components, it is certified phthalate-free and is made in Germany.) 

So, we are getting used to having Estelle Clara Rose, as she has been named, with us throughout the day. She sleeps in a cradle next to my daughter's bed; she sits in the high chair next to our dining table at meals, and while my daughter is at school I am left with detailed instructions about when to put the doll down for a nap, give her a snack, etc. etc.

Miss Estelle Clara Rose came in a lovely pink-and-green frock, but clearly she needed another dress. Aside from being unable to afford official Kathe Kruse doll clothes, I really wanted to try sewing some of my own. My daughter searched through the scrap bin to find this multi-colored polka dot fabric, and I made the sleeveless gown that you see above. I am not used to sewing garments, and I made it without a pattern, so this dress has issues. For one, it doesn't quite snap up in the back. Two, my sewing machine was having thread tension problems, which made  some ugly top stitches. And three, for some reason I have many sturdy seams along the hem and only tiny, tenuous seam allowances along the arms and neck. Oh well. I am considering it my mock-up, from which I hope to make other, more elegant gowns for this busy doll. 
 

For the birthday party of three-year-old twins, I made two half-rainbows worth of bean bags. My son did not want to part with them, even after I reminded him of the basket filled with mama-made bean bags just like these. 

I have been busy with scraps of another kind as well, and I'll have photos to share soon!

Also, I have just updated my weekly favorites (in the right column), after a spell of, well, about two months. Do go see the wonderful stuff that others are doing!

Family art afternoon, No. 2

The supplies:

• tempera paints
• paint brushes
• paper
• 2 child painters
• 2 adults to refill, replenish, mop up, and wipe down 

Our kids are enthusiastic painters. They embrace the medium. They lavish paint onto the pristine sheet, thrilled with the texture, the smell, the intense colors. The two-year-old, in particular, felt strongly that each sheet needed a thick application of paint followed by a thorough twirling, swirling, and thumping of the brush in the puddles of pigment. No, indeed, Mama--the painting is never done! (Oh, his grandfather, also a painter, knows exactly what he means.)

So while this was not a particularly original project--we used ordinary materials in the ordinary way--the focus and enthusiasm that the kids showed made it a satisfying and successful family art afternoon.

Family work

I flew across the country last week to see that beautiful lady on the left side of the photo. My grandmother: that's her, about 60 years ago, with my grandfather and their children.

My grandmother is having some health issues, and it seemed like an important time to visit her. For the first time ever, I traveled without my children. I sat in the airport the morning of my departure holding back tears. It was four in the morning, and I hadn't slept at all the previous night--that might have been part of my problem--but the break I felt between my children and me: it surprised me. I need them as much as they need me. I kept reminding myself of the family, also beloved, that waited on the other coast. 

And how important it was to sit with my grandmother and talk, arm in arm, at our leisure. We can't make quince jelly anymore, or bottle root beer in the kitchen, or make beads from rose petals, or sew up dresses together, but we can still talk about those days. We can live in the memory of those days, when time gave to us before it could take away.

After a wind-swept, ice-tracked, and snow-bound turbulent return journey, ending with missing luggage and a crabby cabby at two in the morning (he'd had a tooth removed that day) home felt sweeter than it had after any visit to a foreign land. 

Thanks to my grandmother, and her 90 years of graceful and gracious service to her family, church and community, my return to the work of parenting--in all its beauty and mess--feels good and meaningful. (I guess several nights of deep sleep--and the opportunity to read two novels cover-to-cover--didn't hurt, either.) And my children: why, they grew in just a few days, and changed, and seem so much their own people, their own selves: beautiful in their independence, sacred in their need.