Talking Tuesday: Cheating Death

A few weeks ago, I read a New York Times review of Barbara Ehrenreich's latest book, Natural Causes, in which the author of Nikeled and Dimed takes on the medical industrial complex.  She notes that Americans have a peculiar obsession with avoiding death, and her book aims to address death head on.  The review went on to note that at the heart of the medicalization of the approach to the body is an attempt to control our physical selves.  Ehrenreich asks us to relinquish that control, to acknowledge that, in the end, we really have no control over our bodies, and ultimately, our deaths.  It comes for us all.

I say this not to be morbid, but rather to point out that Ehrenreich is right.  We don't have the control that we think we do.  Not over our bodies, not over our lives.  There is so much illusion of control, given to us by technology and medical advances that it can be easy to forget the mortal coil.  I also think it is easy to forget how fragile life is, and how most of humanity has lived close to the line for most of human history.  All medical technology has done is to provide a tiny buffer between us and the veil.  A few more cosmic minutes.  Death still waits at the end of the line. 

As someone with a fair share of medical issues, and with children who are alive because of extensive medical intervention, I don't say this lightly.  Would I rather be visiting the grave of my daughter these past six and a half years, or raising her?  The latter, obviously.  I've buried one child already; that was enough. 

So I'm not anti-medical intervention.  But I do want to think a bit more about keeping death in my front view and to really consider what is necessary.  "Keep your mind in hell and despair not," to quote the saint.  (I have also been burned by many medical professionals who are too busy to take my "womanly" concerns seriously, or just don't have the answers I seek about how to take care of my body the best I can).  That is what being healthy is, when it comes right down to it: being a good steward of the body that God has given me.  I can't stop what will happen in the end, can't delay it, because my days are numbered in God's Great Book of Days.  But I can take care of the time I have been given in the best way I can. 

I turn 39 in a few weeks (I know, hardly the end of the road, so to speak), and I'm looking a bit older these days.  On the one hand, I never wanted to be the person who couldn't stand the visible signs of aging.  I didn't mind when a few gray hairs showed up in my late teens, and wasn't too bothered when the backs of my hands started to look wrinkled and crepey.  I thought it funny having "old age" eyes as a kid, but now that I'm squinting at fine print and glasses are not optional, it seems less humorous.  As fewer things in my body continue to work they way they are "supposed" to, the more I think about what it is to be healthy.  What it is to get older in this body and not fetishize youth.

The last few years have been (and continue to be) tremendously confusing for me on an ontological level.  There are many reasons for this, but I've tried very hard to figure it out, to get to the other side of it.  But I can't.  And perhaps that is what it is: it is just life.  It's hard, you live it, and then you die.  The end. 

I don't have answers, but this is what I do know.  I can't slow down the clock or turn it back.  I can live with the choices I've made that have brought me thus far, and try to make good (or better) ones going forward.  I can try to make better food choices (I suspect this will be a lifelong struggle). I can accept the limitations of my body and my self.  I can remind myself that it is not a moral failing to sit down in the middle of the day for a bit and do nothing worthwhile.  That most things don't turn out the way I hoped or expected.  Sometimes they turn out better and sometimes they turn out worse.  That's just life.  I can seek spiritual solutions to the things that ail me.  Soul treatment is infinitely harder than body treatment, I find. 

Mostly, I think, I just need to learn to live with the confusion.  Because that's life.

Quick-Like

Sorry to torture you with my mug again, but there it is.  I even have a "blogger-y" type pose today: hand on hip!  (I generally dislike the chicken-wing pose, but this was literally the only one that turned out out of about seven shots).  

So, the Liberty #5 dress has had some changes.  I added 3/4 dropped sleeves using the Carson dress pattern piece, and took out all the shaping in the middle and added a belt to cinch it all in.  I think I could probably stand to add the front shaping back in, as the belt doesn't quite keep everything in place, and I don't actually love this dress entirely, but it will do for now.

What I like: the dropped sleeve is very comfortable and looks pretty decent.  I like it better than a set -in sleeve for range of motion and comfort.  It is an easy change to my Simplicity 1080.

What I don't like: that the dress moves around a lot around the belt and needs constant adjustment.  I could try and add a cinch around the middle to help, but I'm not sure that would work.  When I did the original sleeve adjustment, the whole dress looked very odd until I added the belt.  I think it was too much of a block of one color or something.  But maybe a little line of elastic around the middle would do it.

In short: it's okay.  I don't understand my dress aversion right now.  I don't know if it is a silhouette thing, or what.  I thrifted a camisole-style dress from ThredUp that I liked a lot in terms of silhouette, but it was just a bit tight on me, and I wasn't comfortable in it so I returned it.  But mostly, I'm reaching for my separates in the morning.  I like a fitted top with my Everyday skirts, although my two white linen blouses are getting heavy play as well.

I do think part of the problem is that I'm between sizes, especially on top.  I'm a medium in a lot of sizes right now, but not all mediums are created equal because slopers vary from company to company, so sometimes a medium is a bit snug but a large looks (and feels) too big.  It's a conundrum.  I thrift almost all my ready-to-wear clothing, so I'm pretty familiar with how a handful of brands fit me, and seek those out, but it can be a shot in the dark sometimes.  I have had a fair share of misses lately.  

I've kind of been on a fabric rescue mission this month, and I think I should just stop trying to make old makes work for me right now, since they are so dress-heavy and some of them don't even fit me.  My fabric bin is far from overflowing and the fabric can also be used for the girls or repurposed at a later date when things feel more settled.  I just need to put my hands in the air and walk away.

I discovered my chambray skirt from last fall is too big on me.  I'm kind of questioning whether all my Everyday skirts are too big, to be honest.  I'm hesitant to cut the pattern down to a small and I hate tracing patterns off.  

The chambray is definitely too big, though.  I don't know whether snugging the elastics would fix it, but I suppose I could give it a go.  I took my revamped Blue Forest dress and made it into a blouse.  I wore it a couple times as a dress and realized I felt like I was wearing pajamas all day (and not in a good way).  The gold leaves almost exactly match my marigold linen skirt from last fall and looked well together, so I cut a curved hem and finished it with bias from the old hem.  I think I like it!  I'm saving it for fall though.

In short, I'm a bit at loose ends still.  Why are clothes so hard?

Talking Tuesday: Show Me Your Hindquarters, Let Me Hear You Roar (part 2)

Back to Irrational Season today.  I wanted to finish writing about the chapter I wrote about last week: "Show Me Your Hindquarters, Let Me Hear You Roar."  The line is from a poem L'Engle wrote in the depths of spiritual struggle, feeling the absence of God acutely.  All I can say is: me too, sister.

L'Engle writes:

"I seek for God that he may find me because I have learned, empirically, that this is how it works.  I seek: he finds.  The continual seeking is that expression for the hope for a creator great enough to care for every particular atom and sub-atom of his creation, from the greatest galaxy to the smallest frandolae.  Because of my particular background, I see the coming together of macrocosm and microcosm in the Eucharist, and I call this Creator: God, Father; but no human being has ever called him by his real name, which is great and terrible and unknown, and not to be uttered by mortal man.  If inadvertantly my lips framed the mighty syllables, entire galaxies might explode.

'As I read the Old and New Testaments, I am struck by the awareness therein of our lives being connected with cosmic powers, angels and archangels, heavenly principalities and powers, and the groaning of creation.  It's too radical, too uncontrolled for many of us, so we build churches which are the safest possible places in which to escape God.  We pin him down, far more painfully than he was nailed to the cross, so that he is rational and comprehensible and like us, and even more unreal.

'And that won't do.  That will not get me through death and danger and pain, nor life and freedom and joy.

'There is little evidence for faith in God in the world around me.  Centuries ago a man whose name is unknown to me cried out: "If God were one whit less than he is, he dare not put us in a world that carries so many arguments against him."

'And if I take the stories of the Bible seriously, when God's people turn from him for too long, he withdraws.  He has not answered my knock for a long time, and this is beginning to make me angry.  Why isn't he there when I need him so desperately?  So I write him another

LOVE LETTER

I hate you, God.

Love, Madeleine.

I write my message on water

and at bedtime I tiptoe upstairs

and let it flow under your door.

When I am angry with you

I know that you are there

even if you do not answer my knock

even when your butler opens the door an inch

and flaps his thousand wings in annoyance

at such untoward interruption

and says the master is not at home.

I love you, Madeleine,

Hate, God.

(This is how I treat my friends, he said to one great saint.

No wonder you have so few, Lord, she replied.)

I cannot turn the other cheek

it takes all the strength I have

to keep from hitting back

the soldiers bayonet the baby

the little boys trample the old woman

the gutters are filled with groans

while pleasure-seekers knock each other down

to get their tickets stamped first.

I'm turning in my ticket

and my letter of introduction

you're supposed to do the knocking.

How can I write to you

to tell you that I'm angry

when I've been given the wrong address

and I don't even know your right name?

I take hammer and nails

and tack my message on two cross pieces of wood.

Dear God,

is it too much to ask you

to bother to be?

Just show your hindquarters

and let me hear you roar.

Love,

Madeleine

'I have often been told that when one first turns to God, one is greeting with brilliant Yes answers to prayers.  For a long time, that was true for me.  But then, when he has you hooked, he starts to say No.  This has, indeed, been my experience.  But it has been more a withdrawal, which is so devastating.  The world is difficult enough with God; without him it is a hideous joke" (171-173).

There is nothing worse than feeling completely alone in the world, of feeling the absence of God where previously God seemed closely present.  L'Engle goes on in the chapter to unpack the loneliness of God's absence, about the fallenness of the world, and our place in it, but by the chapter's end by writes that we participate with God by doing the things he has asked of us.  Specifically, in the particularity of the people in front of us every day.  To build one another up, to bear each other's burdens, to give of the work of our hands to help one another without complaint or second thought.  God can turn our brokenness and failures toward his glory if we will let him.  

'Thou also shall light my candle, sings the psalmist.  The Lord my God shall make my darkness to be light.

'To sing this is already to choose sides.

'To look for community instead of cocktail-party relationship is part of choosing sides in this vast, strange battle.  To say "I'm sorry"; to be silent; to say "I love you," "I care."  It is these little things that are going to make the difference.  For God chooses the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, the weak to overthrow the strong.  Out of failure he brings triumph.  Out of the grave he births life" (186-187).

I'm reminded once again of Mr. Beaver in The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, upon being asked if Aslan is safe, replies: "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”

Quotes:

Madeleine L'Engle, Irrational Season.  NY: Seabury Press, 1977.

C.S. Lewis, The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe. NY: HarperCollins, 2005 reprint.

Of Sorbettos and Vineyards

My sartorial refining continues.

I got it in my head that I wanted another linen skirt, in olive green.  I particularly like the Vineyard Green colorway from fabrics-store.com and so decided to make my skirt from their lightweight linen in that color.  I'm not doing much with dresses this season, so I figured another skirt would give me more options.

I know it doesn't look like much, but I actually love this skirt.  It is a prettier olive in person than it looks on the screen (it has more of a blue cast to it in person) and the hand is just so nice.  Everything about the skirt came together as I wanted it to.

I tried 11" elastics in a wider width, but it was a bit of a struggle to get the skirt on over my hips (although the fit around the waist was good), so I went with my normal 1/2" elastic ties at 12".  That is okay for now.

I also went with the big center box pleat again, as I like the effect and think it looks rather nice on this skirt.  Streamlines the front, where I do not need extra bulk.

I love this blouse too.  I bought it off ebay three summers ago, and it didn't fit me that well at the time.  It is now borderline too big, but I don't care.  It is a beautiful linen blouse and I love wearing it.  I do worry that I'm going to wear it out, because white linen + subtropical heat are not usually happy together, but I guess I can't think about that too much.  I suppose I could always make a pattern from it when it starts to go.

The pockets are a good depth on this skirt too--I keep meaning to mention.  I like that they are just forward of the side seam.  The pattern is well drafted and thought through.

Not much else to say really.

Around the time I was scheming this skirt, I started thinking about different ways to salvage the dresses in my bin.  I don't want to wear them as dresses, and at least one or two are not even wearable as dresses any more, given how hard summer temperatures can be on fabrics, so I wondered about turning one into a top.

Enter the Liberty #3 Sorbetto.  I don't wear tank tops because I don't like my upper arms, and, as I wrote earlier this season, I'm making an effort to keep more of my arms covered for health reasons.  But I have a few light weight cardigans that are very fitted and work well paired with a tank or camisole.  (I almost never do this because I have a hard time finding camisoles that aren't cut below my bra line! but hope springs eternal).  

As I'm still in Kitchen Sink Style mode, I decided to experiment a little.  I downloaded the free Sorbetto pattern from Colette, even though I often have trouble with their slopers. (They draft for a C cup and a fairly wide shoulder, and I'm barely a B with narrow shoulders.  I also don't fit their slopers for the bottom half.  The proportions are always off by a fair bit.  I know you can make small bust adjustments, grade out the hips from the waist, yadda, yadda, but usually I just want something quick and easy, not something I have to practically redraft from scratch).  That said, I was hopeful about the Sorbetto.

The pdf was very fast to put together (14 tiles!).  I chose to cut a size 8, based on the finished measurements and my desired amount of ease.  I probably could have gone down to a 6 for a bit more of a fitted look, but this is fine for now.  The darts are actually in the right place (shocker!) and are the right length (I know, I was surprised too!)  The thing that took the longest was unpicking the whole dress, including bias.  (Although, honestly, because the stitching was loose on the lawn, it was really a matter of getting a long enough thread to pull out huge lines of stitching.  So it wasn't that bad).  (And no, I'm not showing you a photo of the top without the sweater.  I took one and the Internet doesn't need to see that mess).  Just take my word for it.

I cut the Sorbetto out of the bottom half of the dress because the top half was frayed pretty badly around the arms from wearing and heat.  (It has had two seasons hard wearing, after all).  I repaired the dress last summer but it was discolored and thin there, so I wanted to use the best of the fabric I could.  I also reused all the bias tape from the dress, which was another win.  The arm holes are slightly larger than the original dress sleeves, but the bottom hem is smaller, so I used the leftover hem piece to add length to the sleeve tapes.  It was a pretty fast project, once I started sewing.  I think I cut and sewed the whole thing in under an hour.

It looks pretty good with the olive skirt too!  I still have the teal-y cardigan that I wore with the original dress, and like the two things together, but that cardigan doesn't look good with a skirt.  It is too long, and also getting to be too big on me.  So there's that.  But the yellow one is fine.  I found a raspberry colored one on ThredUp that I think will work too.

I'm slowly settling into a summer uniform: 3/4 sleeve top with an Everyday skirt mostly.  Sometimes a denim pencil skirt for variety.  The tops are a mix of wovens and knits, and I'm hoping to mix in some more tanks+cardigan combos too.  My little rack of four dresses is about right this year.  I have one (unblogged) skirt I'm ambivalent about, but I like the color a lot, so I keep wearing it.  I'll write more about it next month when I can talk about the pattern.

The Creature

I honestly don't know what to call this dress, so we'll just go with The Creature, mkay?

This was an experiment in stash busting, and I think I like it!

Last summer, I bought a yard of navy blue linen to make a Portrait blouse and then decided I wasn't into them so I left the fabric in my bin.  Later in the year, I was gifted several substantial fabric remnants and this graphic piece was included.  I really loved the print and was sorry there wasn't more of it.  It was a little over a yard, so I figured I could squeak a girls' dress out of it.

As it happened, the two pieces ended up next to each other in my fabric bin and I thought they looked so well together that I considered making coordinating separates.  I didn't have enough linen for a proper skirt, however, and this particular colorway is discontinued.  I let the fabric sit a bit longer while I had a think about it.  Sometime last week, I suddenly thought of combining them into a dress!

Et voila!  My original idea was to put the print on the bottom and the linen on top, but I didn't have enough of the print to do that, so I switched them.  I had fumes of fabric left after cutting; it was close on the skirt especially.  The pockets are a bit shallower than usual as a result, but still plenty usable.  

I was mostly concerned that the graphic print wouldn't look well next to my face, but I think it is fine.  In the fall, a navy cardigan will pull it all together nicely, I think.

The linen is very light and breezy, so the dress does work for warmer weather.  The top is a mid-weight cotton, so not quite as cool, but not suffocating either.  I did have to piece the sleeves, as is usual when I make this pattern on a 44" wide fabric, and usually the join doesn't show much, but on this one it looked a bit odd, so I added a strip of bias tape on the join as a design element to hide it.  I think it actually gives the top some visual interest and breaks up the print nicely.  So win-win!

Nothing else to say really.  Just my M7353 with my now-standard woven adjustments.  It's quite comfortable and the arms fit well.  There's a bit of mechanical stretch in the garment, so that helps as well.

I watched Leap Year while I was cutting and sewing this dress.  The film was entirely predictable and I admit I fast-forwarded through some parts, but it was okay to have on in the background.  I mostly watched it for Matthew B. Goode, who was excellent in the film.  What can I say?  It was a rom-com.  Mental fluff.  We all need some from time to time, I think.

In random domestic news,

Sometimes my boys give me hope:

No, they aren't twins, but Boo is very tall for his age.  The girls are close in size to each other as well.  I'm constantly asked if I have two sets of twins.  (I think I'd be ready for the funny farm if so!)

The Blue Period

Oh look!  It's another Everyday Skirt.  In blue.  How novel.  *snort*  This was a complete stash project.  I bought the fabric last summer to make a dress, and then got shorted a yard, so didn't have enough for a full dress.  I set it aside thinking I'd use it for one of the girls, but then didn't need it this year.  I found myself short on skirts this season and decided it was a prime candidate for skirt-making.

Thankfully it was all prewashed and everything, so I could just dive right in on Tuesday morning.  I decided to make a big box pleat in the front instead of my usual pleat pattern, because it mimics the look of a skirt pattern I tested this spring that I liked.  I can't blog that skirt yet but will as soon as the pattern releases next month!

The fabric is pretty thin, so perfect for warmer weather, and it has some texture to it, which I think keeps it interesting.  It is a different colorway but same fabric line as my Summer Jazz dress, in case you were wondering.  I think it was a Robert Kaufman fabric.  I liked this color better, but could only get two yards.

Not a lot of construction details.  I added 1.5" of length, and interfaced the waistband with petersham, as is my usual preference.  The waistband did come out quite firm on this version, but that is fine by me, as the fabric has a bit of a loose weave to it.  I used 12" elastics in the back and didn't trim them at all.  I think that is about right.  I still think there is a bit of extra volume on the side panels that could be trimmed, but I'm nervous to do so.

I've been wearing this thrifted blouse a lot this month already.  It is a linen rayon mix and is just the thing.  I love this style of shirt in a woven, but it is hard to find them without collars (I can't stand collars; my neck is short and they look weird on me and feel constricting).  

It's a uniform of a sort: collarless white linen blouse with skirt combo.  (I have another white linen shirt that is a similar style that I've worn the past few summers as well).  I have a couple of 3/4 sleeve knit shirts I've been wearing with my skirts too, and that feels right to me this year.

I did make a kind of wild experiment dress yesterday from stashed fabric that I'm not sure about yet, but will blog it soon.  I'm thinking of this season as the Kitchen Sink Season: throw everything in and see what sticks.

That blue linen dress

I was on the fence about this one.  I bought the linen kind of on a whim, and debated mightily about keeping it once it arrived.  In the end, I decided to give it a go and see if I liked it.

Every summer I seem to make one really light colored dress and then tell myself the rest of the summer that it was a bad idea since light colors tend not to look great on me.  Usually I don't care, but this year, I'm exquisitely sensitive to such things, so I did make this with some misgivings.

In the end, I think it is okay.  I felt pretty good in it Sunday (despite it not really being the right weather for such a dress!) and I think the color looks better in person than in the photos. (And yes, I know I say that every year about the light blue dress du jour).

I think the light texture and pattern gives it additional interest that helps.  Probably some bright accessories would help it too.  I was in an extremely neutral mood on Sunday.

I should also note that I made the usual M7353 changes for a woven, but added 1/4" to the bottom back sleeve, as with the York dress and in this fabric, that is just right.  I don't know why the double gauze feels tighter, but maybe it will loosen with a day's wearing.  *fingers crossed*

And on to another alteration.  Birdie was disappointed that my Blue Forest dress wasn't in my closet this summer (she likes to match me sometimes), so I had a bit of think about how to make it wearable for me.  I'm not into my Simplicity 1080 for summer this year (it is fine with layers for cooler temps), and I want my arms more covered.  I found I had 1/2 yard left and decided to try a Carson Dress pattern hack and used the sleeve extension to add longer sleeves to this dress.  I graded the pattern out about one size (I guessed a little) and that seemed to be about right.  I probably didn't need the extra length on the sleeve cap, however.  3/8" seam allowance and the thing fitted pretty perfectly into my existing S1801 modified sleeve cap.

It mostly works, I think.  I took out the bust tucks because the fabric has never been happy with them and added a long elastic line across the middle instead, mimicking the back elastic.  I could snug it a bit for a leaner fit, but unpicking stitches in double gauze is seriously a pain.  I debated adding a casing and interior elastic instead, but decided that was too much trouble, and I didn't want to unpick the back elastic at that point.  

It isn't a fabulous dress, but it will do.  It is comfortable, though.  (A lot more so with the changes).  I'm considering doing the same thing to my Liberty #5 dress as I discovered I have about 1/2 yard of that fabric left too.  Decisions, decisions.

The older three kids had their last day of school yesterday, and Ponchik has her end of year program today, so we are headed into the summer routine this week.  We didn't hire a summer sitter this year for a variety of reasons, so I imagine I will have to be creative these next few months to get my own things done.  I'm reminding myself that I wrote the bulk of the novel last summer in fits and bursts while the kids were doing other things, so it can be done!  And anyway, summer doesn't last forever.

Talking Tuesday: Show Me Your Hindquarters, Let Me Hear You Roar (part 1)

image via

I've written several times about reading Madeleine L'Engle's Irrational Season.  It is a very very good book, but not one to be rushed through.  I find I can manage a chapter at a time, at best, and then I have to set it aside to think about it.  I finished another chapter Sunday night and it was so good that I wanted to share some parts of it for today.  In this chapter, titled 'Show Me Your Hindquarters, Let Me Hear You Roar', L'Engle writes about doubt, and faith, and about writing process in the midst of messy motherhood.  The book follows a liturgical year, and this chapter happens to fall in the Pentecost season so it felt especially timely to me.

I especially liked her thoughts on writing, being in the throes of it myself.   I do so much reading in service of the book, or even for its own sake, and I sometimes think I could be focusing on other things, but now I know: reading keeps the instrument in tune, ready to play.  Having rich language at my disposal, acquired through the meticulous reading of good and deep books, gives my instrument complexity and tonality it would otherwise lack.

"A writer grimly controls his work to his peril, manipulates only in great danger (to be in control of your technique is very different from being in control of the work).  Slowly, slowly, I am learning to listen to the book, in the same way I try to listen in prayer.  If the book tells me to do something completely unexpected, I heed it; the book is usually right.  If a book like this present one, a strange kind of book for a storyteller, pushes me to write it, I have not choice except to pay attention.  All I can do, as far as activism is concerned, is to write daily, read as much as possible, and keep my vocabulary alive and changing so that I will have an instrument on which to play the book if it does me the honor of coming to me and asking to be written.  I have never yet fully served a book.  But it is my greatest joy to try" (160).

I have also written that my book has been a difficult emotional and spiritual journey for me at times.  Sometimes it felt like the book was writing me rather than the other way round.  Did I create the book in order to process the struggle, or was I struggling because I was writing the book?  Hard to say. 

"I concentrated on my work because it was what saved me....When I was working on that first novel I was genuinely and painfully unhappy.  But during the actual writing I was at play; I was completely thrown out of my subjective misery into the joy of creation, so that what might have been a totally destructive experience became instead a creative one, and a freeing one.  I was freed during the writing as my book wrote me, not as I wrote it.  And surely this was an experience of that special kind of unity which makes me understand the Trinity.  The pages which built on my writing table were not me, nor was I typewriter and paper; but we were, nevertheless, one.  The same kind of collaboration can come when I read a book; the books which matter to me, to which I turn and return are those which read me.  The music I play, or listen to, is that which actively participates with me in harmony or counterpoint.  The same thing is true in graphic art.  There had to be an amorous interaction between the work of art and the person who is opening himself to it, and surely the relationship within the persons of the Trinity is one of Love, Love so real we can glimpse it only on rare occasions" (162).

To this last bit, I say: yes, exactly.  I have a visceral reaction to the things I love: books, music, art, movies; they are the things that make me, move me, change me, tell me of the truth of the world and beyond.  These things are in me.  It cannot be otherwise. 

I have more to write on this book, even from this chapter, but will save it for next time. 

All quotes from Madeleine L'Engle, Irrational Season, NY: Seabury Press, 1977.

York Dress

This is the York dress.  The end.  Just kidding.

This is a double gauze from Cloud 9 by Sarah York that was released earlier this spring.  I hesitated a LONG time over this fabric and then decided I didn't want to make anything from it and closed out my browser tabs.

But then I found out I was going to a June wedding in the Midwest, and realized sometime in April that I had nothing to wear to the wedding.  I remembered that fabric, and knew I could make a woven M7353 out of it.  I made my usual changes, but added an additional1/4" to the bottom back edge of the sleeve seam.  I like the extra room and incorporated this change into a linen version I made shortly after this one but haven't worn yet.

The fabric is beautiful, and double gauze is so soft, and I'm glad I made this dress, but I'm still not 100% happy with the fit on the sleeves.  It is just a wee bit snug on the bicep, although gauze does stretch with wear.  I haven't actually worn this all day yet, just for the photos, so I can't say for sure how it will feel at the end of the day.

But for the wedding, with some nicer shoes and better jewelry, I think it will do fine.

The print is so pretty, and it is nice to have something a little bit pretty for the summer, even if it isn't something I'm going to wear every week.  

I think what I'm finding for this summer rotation is that I really want to spend my week days in separates, and wear dresses to church.  At least, mostly.  So it is probably good that I only have a few dresses this rotation.  I'm still working on the skirt situation, as the three I started with are proving inadequate to my wants.  I made another one out of some long-stashed fabric last week but haven't worn it yet, so we'll see if it fits.  I have some dark olive-y green linen coming for another.  (Watch this space!)  I'm also keeping my eyes open on ThredUp for good finds, as I'm finding skirts to be rather wretched to fit at the moment (I love my Everyday skirt pattern, but sometimes I want a different silhouette and don't want to fiddle endlessly with a pattern to try it out).

So things to discover.  I'm also experimenting with make up a bit, as I need to wear sunscreen every day now, and it isn't too much to add concealer, eye shadow and mascara to the mix.  I'm trying to keep it fast and easy, otherwise I won't keep up with it.  I'm in such a weird place with my body and my physical appearance and getting older and...well everything, I don't know.  I just keep trying things to see what sticks.  I'm working on another body image-type post, but I need more time to percolate.

I also made two dresses for Birdie in the past couple of weeks.  Simplicity 8101 (aka Dottie Angel frock for girls).  I graded a size four out to the next size and added length and Bob's your uncle.  The leaves dress was made from left over fabric from my Blue Forest dress of last summer.  

I had bought enough to make the girls a dress in addition to mine, but ended up not making it last year since they had enough clothing.  It was nice to pull that fabric out and just cut her dress out quick-like.

I'm considering whether to add 3/4 sleeves to my dress to make it more wearable for me this year; it was one of the dresses to go into my fabric bin this year, even though I really like the print and fabric.

And the Carson dress fail is redeemed!  I cut off the bodice and used the (LARGE VOLUMINOUS) skirt to cut Birdie's dress.  Worked a treat, and was the right amount with a bit leftover.  

She loves it, and I love how it looks on her!  (I *almost* want to try again for myself, but am reminding myself that I am not what I enjoy looking at).

Finally, this is the difference between girls and boys:

Nice, cooperative, imaginative play.  For most of the afternoon on Saturday.  Bliss.

(The boys?  Not so much).

Yarn Along: Major John Andre Sweater

~knitting~

I'm making good progress on what I'm calling my Major John Andre sweater (aka Rivel).  I'm calling it thus because I've knit almost the entirety of it while watching (and rewatching) the first three seasons of TURN: Washington's Spies.  I discovered the lovely JJ Feild through the show, and his performance as Major John Andre is a treat.  I rewatched a lot of the first three seasons just to see the man work.

The back and fronts are both done and blocked, as is one of the sleeves.  I'm about 2/3 done with the second sleeve.

I'm debating seaming the sweater on my sewing machine vs. mattress stitching for the first few episodes of season 4.  I also have to pick up stitches for the collar and bands which are knit as one piece.  The cable pattern on this was easy and satisfying.  I want to make another one with a similar cable style.

~watching~

TURN, obviously.  (I should say for the record that I have some issues with the costumers on that show--the lack of female shifts make my eye twitch--but overall, I can overlook the faults for the good storytelling).  I'm curious to see where season four goes (it is the final one, so it will have to wrap up a bunch of things).  I watched a little clip on Youtube with Samuel Roukin, who plays the dastardly John Graves Simcoe, and was startled to discover that his normal speaking voice is quite different from the voice he uses for Simcoe.  In the clip, he talked about developing the voice for Simcoe and it was so interesting to hear his process.  His whole bearing and demeanor are so different from his character; I find the contrast fascinating.

I also finally started season 4 of Sherlock (I know, I know!) while I was sewing a skirt, and was gutted by the first episode.  The second episode kind of redeemed itself, and now I'm ready for the final one.

As long as I'm talking about JJ Feild and Benedict Cumberbatch, I must tell you about a fantastic movie with the both of them: Third Star.  It is from 2010, so before Cumberbatch was well known, and is an ensemble piece. The acting is MAGNIFICENT.  Seriously.  Watch it. 

I will say, Cumberbatch plays a young man dying of cancer (no spoiler; he literally tells you in the first three minutes), so not a pick-me-up kind of film.  The story is about a final trip he takes with his friends to see a beach in Cornwall or somewhere, but the whole thing is so well done.  (I will admit that the first 20 minutes are slow, but after that, I couldn't stop watching).  JJ Feild should have won awards for his performance--it is subtle and nuanced and the end of the movie is just...wow.  

But if you want fun JJ Feild, watch the new BBC Northanger Abbey (he plays Henry Tilney) or Austenland.  He is so good and fun in those two movies.  Austenland in particular is so funny and frothy.

I also rewatched The Deep Blue Sea with Rachel Weisz because it is just that good.  I'll be honest: I didn't get it the first time I saw it (around when it came out in 2012).  It seemed like a strange play-not-play, and I didn't like Hester's character at all.  (This is important because she is literally in every scene.  You kind of have to like her, or at least sympathize with her a little or the film is excruciating).  Having said that, I revisited the film last summer and really fell in love with it.  The complex story, rich orchestral score, and tight film style, all resonated with me.  I'm at a stage in my life where I better understand the characters and the storyline.

~reading~

I finished these three books in the past week.  I raced through Vodolazkin's latest (I received an advance copy from the publisher through a connected friend shortly after Pascha); it is so good.  The Aviator is quite different from Laurus, but deals with similar themes.  So much goodness there.

I've been reading Stark's Rise of Christianity for several months and finally finished the last chapter this week.  (I can't believe I let it sit with 10 pages left for so long!)  As I wrote previously, it is a sociolological study of why Christianity took over in the Roman world and spread so far and so fast.  Stark is an expert in religious conversion in societies, and his perspective was fascinating.  I also appreciated that his prose was so jargon free and accessible.  It was well worth the read; I highly recommend it.  So interesting.

The John Chrysavaggis book was research for the novel, and while there were some good things in it, it wasn't quite what I was looking for.  I'm glad I read it (it was a fast read--I finished it in a day or so), but I'm hoping that revisiting John Mack's book (Preserve Them O God) will give me more of what I'm after.  

This is my current stack (plus L'Engle's Irrational Season, which I've set aside temporarily).  Lila continues to astonish, and I've only paged through Prayer and Temperament, but I'm looking forward to getting into it.

In other book related news, here's the summer stack I've been collecting for the boys:

School lets out on Tuesday, so hopefully that will last them for a little while.  Piglet reads so stinking fast, it is hard to keep him in books.

And speaking of kids' books, we have many many kids' books at our house, at all different reading levels (three dedicated bookcases, plus four good-sized shelves).  One of the bookcases was a purchase during the big house painting project of 2016 and has had some problems almost from the moment we put it up.  I'm not sure if the guy I had put it together made a mistake or if we just had too many heavy books on it, but the back had bowed out rather badly on one side and one of the cam lock screws on the fixed shelf in the middle was no longer making contact, which meant all the shelves were constantly falling down.

I decided enough was enough.  This morning, I took all the books off the shelf (all of them!) plus the photo albums that were stored there, and unscrewed the book case from the wall and got 'er done.  It involved putting the shelf on its side and pulling some brackets off the back and some muscle power to get the cam screw to make contact, but in the end, I think it is stable again and reattached to the wall.  I took all the photo albums and moved them to a different book case in another room, and rearranged the books so that only one shelf was double stacked, and the heavy Childcraft books (the orange set) is on the bottom shelf (they were on the second to top one before).  There is also some room to grow now, where before there wasn't.  I did have to move some things from the other book case to make room for the photo albums, but it was mostly vertical file boxes of my husband's stuff that he never looks at anyway.  I put it on a high shelf in the closet in that room and it worked out okay.

I do regularly purge books, and try to keep them at a reasonable level, but I have four children who are all at vastly different reading levels right now, so we have to keep a lot of books at a lot of different levels at the moment.  In a few years, we can get rid of the easier books and just focus on young adult reading.  Expand and contract, expand and contract.  'Tis the way of things.

Joining Ginny for Yarn Along!