Milly's Mobile

The theme of Amelia's nursery, which is yet to be completed, is vintage carnival/circus (minus the sideshow and the bearded lady. Might include the wolf brothers though. just kidding).

I love this mobile that I found on etsy by jacksbeanstalk. If I was a baby I know I would dig this eye candy. Alas, the shop owner is about to have a wee one herself so it's unavailable to order.

So I'm going to attempt to make it myself! I went to the wool shop yesterday for some wool and a felting needle. Because, you know, I don't already have enough projects on the go. I'm pretty sure that filling my plate with too many to-dos is a life sentence! At least I'm never bored.

As for the needle felting, I'm relying on the internet to teach me how to do it, although I don't think it can be that hard. Any experts out there? If anyone has any tips for me, please share!

p.s. what's that you ask? 2 blog posts in 2 days?? I KNOW. this shizzle is off the chain! My keyboard is hot to the touch....

Re-post: Barenaked in Toronto and Vancouver

*originally posted to the Papermouse blog on June 12, 2008. I am going to re-post some past entries to ever so slowly get back into the habit of regular writing and blogging. Do you think I have time to do things like organize my closet now that I have 2 kids?? Most definitely.....NOT.

I am fit to be crowned Worst Packer of this great wide land. Last night I was trying to fill a suitcase with necessities for a day in Vancouver and two days in Toronto. No matter the destination, the duration of the trip, the weather or the growing limitations as to what clothes can actually accomodate my bump these days, I stand motionless in front of my closet and stare vacantly at an abyss of clothes, shoes, bags, scarves. Scott has warned me that if I keep it up, he will need to refinish the floor at my feet.

I am a clothes sorter. I am a re-folder. I am an organize-my-closet-by-garment-colour-when-the-mood-strikes-me kind of gal. I banish spring clothes to storage in the fall, and fall clothes to storage in the spring. I like this kind of system. It keeps me calm, if not obsessive compulsive.

But packing is my wardrobial tragic flaw. Shoes especially. I usually take with me more pairs of shoes than days I am away. Add two different climates to the formula (a heat wave in Toronto and the perpetual winter of '08 on the West Coast) and I've really got a calculus problem to solve. Find: the derivative of white shorts raised to the power of two heels, multiplied by a maternity top, all divided by rain. I stand. I stare. Flies fluzz by. Chestnuts roast on an open fire.

And inevitably, the morning of my departure is an exercise in haphazardly adding last minute items to my suitcase (and purging four-legged stowaways). Boots. toothpaste. pjs. Shit! pjs!!!