Still Clowning Around

Really, the thing I can not do away with lately is my desire to make another clown costume. I mean, let's be practical: this is mostly a silly hobby, it makes almost no money – well, it might be losing money, but it's losing money slowly enough that it's not painful. So, I keep doing it because I can't stop thinking about clown costumes.

Sometimes, my model has her own ideas about clown noses.
We don't publish those photos at the Etsy store.

I think many people my age were traumatized by Steven King's It. Although, these days, I'm much more upset by children wearing skulls and camouflage and carrying toy guns than by children in clown costumes. So I keep making these costumes because, look: they're not commercial or overly adult or overly gendered. They just seem sweet to me.

Lately, I want to make a clown costume in green. You'd think this would be a simple thing: order some green fabric and sew it up! But I'm feeling quite particular about the color of green: I want a green color slightly deeper than grass: emerald, perhaps? But not so much that you'd call it blue. One thing you discover quickly when you search for something like "emerald green" is that everybody has a different idea about what constitutes emerald green. Also, there's not merely as much variety out there as you'd like to think there is. Now, I wonder, should I let go of my emerald green dreams, or print some fabric for myself at Spoonflower? Or maybe I'll get it over it once St Patrick's Day is past. Hmm...

Segue

Fritz and I regularly make and split a big salad for dinner. A few weeks ago, I made this Collard Greens with Freekeh salad from Sunset magazine. So yummy! (Although, in subsequent makings, I cut back on the amount oil.) Even the kids were into it; they usually pass on salads. I think it helped that cracked freekeh has an interesting backstory about a feud, fields burning, and crops saved. If you buy Bob's Red Mill brand of cracked freekeh, the story is printed on the bag. The freekeh itself was popular enough to be a new addition to our regular meals.

One of our long-standing regular meals is omelets for breakfast on the weekends. With all the chopping, it's the most time-consuming weekly food preparation that we do – and it's not accidental that it happens on the weekends and in the morning. For some reason, the kids always seem to have the most patience and the highest chance of playing together first thing in the morning. If there aren't kids hanging all over me and quarreling, I'm free(er) to chop vegetables.

I recently decided to cut my hair. Actually, I told the hairdresser to "cut it shoulder length" and demonstrated with pretend-snipping a lock of my hair at my shoulder. This is how she interpreted my words and actions.  I would say what she did is "chin length." I've tried telling other people (and myself) that it doesn't matter that she cut it shorter than I wanted. It'll grow, right? But, honestly, I'm still extremely annoyed at her a month later. In her defense, I let it air dry (no styling) in both the photos above. Still, she 1) didn't do what I wanted and 2) did a crappy job taking my hair's wave into account. I'm done with her. I've said that before about this hairdresser, but this time, I really, REALLY mean it. Remind me in about a year, okay?

Your eagle eyes probably spotted that smart phone two photos back. That's right. Now I can take photos of myself and my kids without depending on anyone else. Amazing, right? Let's just hope all my newfound abilities don't go so far to my head that I drop my expensive toy while playing with it on the chairlift. Or that I forget to blog because I'm too occupied sending images via texts to everyone I know.

Of Interest

The kids have a snow day. This year, the school has a fancy new automated phone calling system. It called us at 5:23 AM to let us know school was canceled. We might have managed to keep the kids asleep through one phone call, but the system calls ALL our phone numbers. First the land line, then my phone, then Fritz's phone. Within 10 minutes, at 5:33 AM, all three kids were awake and jumping on our bed. On a day when school was canceled.

I'm not sure what to take away from this: turn off the ringer on our phones? Or think of this as our opportunity to harness some energy for shoveling the sidewalk. In the dark.

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I recently read this article about the distance that most adult Americans live from their parents. I have long been under the impression that Americans move frequently and don't necessarily live near extended family, but this study proves otherwise. As the headline notes, fifty percent of Americans live within 18 miles of their parents. We live 2,000 miles from my parents and 5,000 miles from Fritz's parents. I'm pretty sure that puts us in the 99th percentile.

The article explores how this affects women, caregivers, and careers, or lack thereof. This is a topic that is near and dear to my heart. I feel strongly that our distance from a grandchild/grandparent support system has had a huge impact on my ability do anything other than caregiving.

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I also can't stop quoting this recent study by the Violence Policy Center. In my home state, gun deaths are more common than automobile deaths. This is true in 21 states, check it out.