Friday, June 29, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
I'm sad to say that I haven't watched it all the way through for 20 years, or so.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
Should I pretend that this is not the best tote for the summer? That would be silly!
It's all hemp and organic cotton and bright cotton scraps. It's sturdy and beautiful and roomy and lined with creamy white organic cotton muslin. It has two pockets on the outside, because that's where you need them.... Take it to the beach, the park, farmer's market or grandma's house. Wherever you go!
In the shop later today....
Monday, June 25, 2012
Friday, June 22, 2012
Wednesday, June 20, 2012
Monday, June 18, 2012
rant), but being in a coastal redwood forest with great friends for a few days isn't the worst thing imaginable.
And look at those kids. How could I not take them out to sleep in the dirt? They're delighted!
Still, my favorite part of camping is the shower at home, afterward. Shampooing twice? Hot water? Clean undies? Heaven.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
What could be better? A simple, roomy tote for summer - it's eco-friendly, affordable, and handmade.
You can roll it up and put it in your purse - and you'll always have an extra tote available for spontaneous shopping!
Monday, June 11, 2012
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
shop right now.
(Wouldn't this be the most perfect gift for a new mama? A sweet quilt and chamomile pillow to soothe everyone back to sleep....)
Monday, June 4, 2012
I know - you're like: look at that teensy chick - she looks
Anyway - chickens are gross. Chickens are about 1% feathers, 2% beak and feet, 5% cuteness and chirping and perching in the palm of your hand and being soft, and 140% chicken shit. That's not just bad math, that's a fact!* You would be surprised how much poo a bird that small can create. Put five of them in your bathtub** and you'll see what I mean.
And when they're super small and you have no mama hens, they live inside, under a heat lamp. In our case, they live inside, under a heat lamp, in a plastic bin, in the bathtub. And every morning I stand barefoot, in pajamas, on a cold, wet lawn, before I've had any coffee, hosing down a chicken "habitat" (because I'm totally a farmer!) And I think to myself: I am so glad this was my idea, because if it had been anyone else's, I would be hating them right now.
So now the offensive fowl are too big to live in the bin and too small to live outside and too revolting to go free range all over the house - so when we had a Little League game to go to, I just barricaded them in the bathroom and left it at that.
For three hours.
It was like a crime scene when we got back.
It was like one of those houses you see on the news after it's been condemned and the 300 cats have been "relocated." It was Grey Gardens. I cried.
This weekend my handsome husband (who promised me a chicken coop two years ago, ahem) put together a "day spa" for the chickens so they can kick it outside during the day and come inside at night, in order to be not eaten by a raccoon. It's quite ramshackle and they've escaped from it twice so far, but I'm not crying any more and I'm no longer worried that Health & Human Services is coming to take me away.
They're outside right now. And? it's raining and I'm not bringing them in the house - because I'm totally a farmer! But I feel really bad about it - because I'm totally not a farmer.
*I'd put money on it.