Sewing Machine Set Backs

I realize now more than ever that starting a new business is painfully slow. At least this has been my experience thus far. My goal for the moment is to save the necessary funds to get into the local farmer's market. I feel like once I have that niche, my business will start to ride a bit smoother. But as we all know life happens and in the middle of building some inventory, my machine went on the fritz and landed in the shop, halting inventory production completely for at least two weeks. Even though the machine is only a few years old, it's a cheaper model and the demands I put on it wears it down pretty quickly. So in the meantime I wait to sew but move on to the next idea, writing, crocheting and knitting along the way...

I am spending some time on the computer trying to figure out how to build a website separate from Facebook and Esty, but my computer is slower than stalagmite growth and my patients for technology is wearing thin... I seariously haven't been 'away' from technology (other than google, e-mail and Facebook) for more than a few years and I feel like I've had my head in a cave all my life. It boggles my mind how fast technology progresses!! But I digress...

My next idea involves specialty food and a lot of experimenting. Last night was less than successful and even though the girls and Erick didn't mind because the outcome was eatable (just unsaleable), I'm not sure if my waistline will hold up to this challenge I have given myself!!

Speaking of... Vancouver Marathon training starts this week and even though I am pulling back and only running a half marathon, the running will be a nice distraction from the lack of movement in my other endeavors.

Designing, learning, and love

Ideas flow through me like coffee on a long road trip... for awhile there's nothing. Then, you have to go. Right. Now.

Some ideas work out, some don't, while others wait patiently in my sketch pad or on a scrap piece of construction paper swiped from the girls' art closet to be put into real life. I find that when I get overwhelmed with ideas I often do nothing which, obviously, complicates my situation.

I have accepted that over the past few months old sheets rock my world and much to the horror (or relief) of my husband, who often thinks of me in the beginning stages of hoarding (minus the filth), I've begun to make use of those sheets I wouldn't let go of or the millions of buttons I keep in jars, which justifies me keeping it all.

My latest idea has finally come into reality. It's great. It's exciting. It has huge possibilities. Now what to do with it... Hang on to it until I find a toy agent who could guide me through the business? Sell it simply at bazaars and hope no one takes the idea to China? Or maybe try to find someone who knows someone, if you get my meaning (because I know no one)?

I love designing these toys and the process that goes with it and the best part of all of this is that I'm just starting! Who knows what I will come up with next! In the meantime I am off to sew my legacy as the "Dinosaur Lady"... which, by the way, I have come up with some pretty spectacular new patterns I am itching to try out.

Live, Love, Laugh, Learn, but above all, breath.

The Gym

Ah the gym...

A flow of air sweeps my hair back every time I open the doors to a steady hum of the treadmills, clanking of weights and a steady beat of music. I walk through the small assortment of workout clothes to the front desk, punch in my number and scan my finger. "Hello Amy, here are some towels. Enjoy your workout." Inhaling smells of rubber and cleanser I smile back, thank the front desk employee and zig-zag my way back to the locker room. Deep in concentration, I find a convenient open locker, unload my things, gather my water bottle and headphones and head out to the main area.

Given the time of day, a treadmill attached to a little T.V. screen can be hard to find. While there are huge T.V.s every 2 feet across and at least 10 rows back, the personal T.V. is pretty nice. First, you can change the channel and second it's right there. No need to look at an awkward angle to watch because running on a treadmill can be challenging enough. I pop the headphones, I find an amusing channel if the overhead music isn't to my liking, start the belt, and take a look around.

The people I love seeing are the supper overweight ones. Really. It inspires me to keep working hard because if they are overcoming their obvious personal challenges then so can I. I love seeing their story unfold but at the same time I try not to day dream too long in their direction because I don't want to look like a jerk.

After my run I move on to the weight lifting area. I take a deep breath and plunge through. I don't much care for this area because of the muscle men. Every gym has them. Fascinating as it is to watch these men who are so large armed that they can't touch their right shoulder with their right hand because muscle gets in the way, I can't help to feel like a weeny when I'm pushing as hard as I can on the shoulder press at 10 pounds... There is no where to put your eyes except right in front of you and that is usually where they are and because you can't look anywhere else, and stay in good form, these guys get their hourly shot of ego boost as they probably think I am checking them out. Which I'm not completely denying....

After stretching on the mat on the far end of the gym, worn out and ready to high-tail it out of there, I go back into the locker room and face the most dreaded people of all. I have yet to come up for a nick-name but I know everyone knows the type. Generally these girls are in the young to mid twenties and undoubtedly know someone else in the locker room to whom they are talking with so you get the whole story.... "Does my eye make up look okay? I wore waterproof mascara today so when I sweat I don't get black eyes." Her friend, "Ew. How bad do you sweat? Hey should my running shorts be folded down like this or inward like this?" Response, "Did you get the text from Jenny today? I just can't believe it! Hey, you want to get some coffee later?" With one last look in the mirrors they disappear around the corner.

One night there was a trio of these girls as I was coming out of the swimming pool area. They were talking about how they needed to get some color and then there was an off handed comment about someone's color that was just in the locker room, "She was so white you could see her veins! I mean, come on. That's just nasty." (I want to note that these girls were white as well.) I, having no shame, walked in the middle of these hens, who's chatter continued, stripped down to my birthday suit then proceeded to find my locker; making it so I had to walk around before getting the things I needed for my shower, including the towel I did not wrap up in. They stopped talking so fast it was almost startling. I wanted to eye them, dare them to say something, but they put their heads down, and couldn't pack their bags fast enough before leaving. Shallow minds only go so far, but at least they will have something to talk about over coffee.

Christmas Cards running late...again

Every year I say, "This will be the year everyone will get our Christmas cards BEFORE Christmas!" and every year I fail miserably. I think last year I didn't even get them out at all. I figure once mid-July comes around Christmas cards are really a mute point.

So just before I open Word and actually write out my post-holiday cheer I thought I'd write a quick blog for a touch of inspiration. It comes to no surprise to me that after my marathon and nursing my foot I am finding it hard to start up a running routine again. Running is many things if not one of the most frustrating of all exercise possibilities. I was barely able to run 3 miles yesterday. I couldn't believe how fast I lost all those months - practically a year - of hard work. But just before I got to the point of beating myself up over it, I took a step back, inhaled deeply and reflected...

I ran 3 miles. This time last year I could hardly run 1, but what is important to remember here is that I ran. I can run. Sure I ache and with my foot I have yet another ailment to be irritated about, but if I am being completely honest here I would probably lose interest if this all came easy for me. Where's the adventure if there's not some kind of struggle to overcome, right?

My heart goes out to a very dear family member of mine who, due to a series of unfortunate events, has found herself in a temporary state of disability and of all the people in the world who can read this, I hope she is one. Today, tomorrow, and the days to come I run for her. I run through my selfishness and self doubt knowing her struggles are greater but not without hope. I run to let her know that in time she will run too (yes run) and sometimes we have to go through the bad days to really appreciate the good ones.

In the meantime I give a shout out to all the women in my life: Osteoporosis is not an old woman disease. Educate yourself. Love yourself. And have a great start to a new year.

First Bazaar

Well, it would have been better if more people actually came because when people were there, they bought stuff. A poorly advertised event is one in which I will not be returning to. I lived. I learned. And now I am moving on.

There is a whole subculture in the bazaar industry. People hold close their trade secrets. Never ask an apron maker where she gets her fabric or a snack maker how they get the wasabi to so beautifully and evenly coat the sunflower seeds because you will be met with a deep stare, then a plastered smile, followed by a comment of, "mumble, mumble, mumble."

My fellow vendors were generally kind-hearted and we talked more than sold, but so goes the way of a bazaar vendor. One show can make you thousands, where others one simply prays they will make enough to cover the cost of their table.

It's fun making things that have not been on the market. I am now known as "The Dinosaur Lady" or the, "oh my gosh, did you really make this?" lady. So if you are looking for a teddy bear, that perfect hat or scarf, or fleece blanket do not come knocking on my booth. All you will find are new twists on old ideas, and stuffed delights that bring you back to when you were a child. And if you are pleased enough you will buy it, take it home and share the delight with someone in your life.

It must be nice being a dog

As I come to a stopping point in my crafting madness, but still a bit buzzed from the coffee overload I partook in at 5pm, I reflect...

To say the least, I am so excited for my first holiday bazaar. However, I am a poor manager of time and this, I am afraid, is an extreme understatement. I didn't want to be working like mad up to the last second and yet here I am neglecting the gym, using the TV to put my children in a lobotomized state of complacency so I can sew in the next room and not walking the dog.

Ah, Artex. When Erick brought him home last Christmas as a gift to me I cried with joy. Soon I began to cry out in irritation and anger as he chewed his way through my floors and any possible wiring he could put his mouth on and yet, no sparks. Lucky dog. Having lost his cow bone, a few days back I got Artex a soft plastic toy I was hoping would subdue him in the coming week as my crafting load was shifting into overdrive. He immediately tore it up and ate most of it spending this week with diarrhea and more whining than usual.

While I sat hand sewing closed some stuffed dinosaurs, I shook my head and started to feel a little sorry for him. All he wanted was attention. A simple walk. I instead gave him a 'pacifier' because I am too consumed with my doings. To make me feel worse, it backfired and gave him a belly ache and just at the moment of complete sympathy Artex, who was previously sleeping off his boredom, yelps and looks at his butt. I stop and watch as he excretes some of his toy. Gone completely crazy from boredom, or just because he is a dog, Artex is once again chipper and happy to see he has his toy back and begins to play with it despite where it just came from. Does he know?! Because he obviously didn't care as he thought we were going to play catch as I grabbed a rag, took it forcibly away and settled down to do more sewing.

Do not fret. He got his walk in and he got an extra bonus of going to the dog park. Ah, the life of a dog...

LA vacation part two: J-tree dude

Nearly a month later I finally get a moment, late at night, to finish writing about our experience in LA. When the snow and ice hit a few weeks back, I closed my eyes real tight and thought about the desert. Not just any desert. The Joshua Tree forest was located within a desert I had never experienced before. Here in Washington/Oregon, the deserts are high, cut from glaciers and full of juniper and whistle pigs. The Joshua Tree desert is full of cactus, rattle snakes, sand and million pound rocks that felt like sandpaper and looked as though they had been meticulously placed on top of each other. Awesome.

I love camping and car camping is like going to the spa. No worries about what I couldn't carry, no minimalistic thoughts and no need to shovel a hole to do my business. The ground was extremely hard and the threat of snake bites in the butt loomed, so I was so pleased about the outhouses. We even lucked out of the often rancid olfactory overload in which outhouses produce (even in the chilliest of climates) because some very nice person lit a candle that lasted our whole stay. Both nights were clear and even a little too warm the first night.

Ah the first night. Vali and Gio had all their friends gathered around the fire. We were in happy spirits and ready to let loose when a couple of Navy guys asked if they could share our site. Gio had rented three spots and it ended up that we only needed two, barely. So being of good humor, as a collective we accepted these strangers into our site. Aside from them, the group as a whole did not know each other and connected only by Vali herself but nonetheless these guys were deemed "the strangers". The strangers tried too hard and talked a little too much. They were visiting to do some climbing and given the perfectness of the rocks, I would have even been tempted to scale a few if the opportunity arose. They were from San Diego and were obviously surfers from their sun-smacked skin and bleached hair to the on stranger's super lame lazier gun tattoo on his forearm. They stayed only the one night and were gone when we returned from one of many of our day hikes around the park.

Vali and Gio have a good group of people they surround themselves with and it was a real treat to be within it, if only for a few days. We took the warm atmosphere home to a typical Northwest pre-winter chill and dug right back into life and when I open my eyes to look at the stiff, frozen outside I smile. The trip was needed and leaves my pending winter warmer than usual.