Charlotte's Web is a horror movie

The Mister is away again (don't worry, I'll get mine sometime soon) and this evening after bath I decided to let Magnolia and Oliver watch a little Charlotte's Web while I cleaned up the Great Spaghetti Catastrophe of 2009.  I had just finished the last dish when I heard a blood curdling scream, a scream of unmistakable terror.  I bounded upstairs and intercepted my two weeping and terrified children right outside the TV room (also know as the office and guest room).  Behind them on the screen cartoon birds were flapping adorably in their nest while the golden sun rose over the bucolic Zuckerman farm. Honestly, it didn't seem that scary.

 "Was it the rat?" I ask, clutching them to my bosom. "Was it Templeton?" (I had been a little nervous about Templeton).

"The pig!" they squealed, still visibly shaken. "I don't like that pig who runs in the house."

"No, Wilbur is sweet.  He's a good pig."

"Turn it off," they sob, shaking.

I have damaged my children with Wilbur, and here he is in the all of his gruesomeness.  He doesn't mean to be "objectionable" but, oh, the horror.  The horror. . . 

Jury duty as vacation

What does it say about your life when you are sort of happy to realize that you have jury duty?  That you consider those eight quiet hours in that big, stuffy room full of impatient strangers and badly stocked vending machines to be found time, a lucky surprise akin to finding a $20 bill in the pocket of a coat you haven't worn in a year?

It reminds me of something I read once (maybe it was a movie?) in which the main character hoped to be involved in a minor but injurious accident so she would be forced into taking some down-time in the hospital.  The balance was a tricky one: She needed something that would earn her a few days in bed but that also wouldn't hurt too much. I totally get that.

So yes, that is my excuse for my tardy post--jury duty.  And no, I did not get picked for the seven-week trial.  I wanted to serve on a jury, I really did.  But seven weeks? I believe in civic duty, but I don't believe in it enough to lose wages and pay for extra childcare.  Which of course makes you wonder about who can afford to take seven-weeks off from their life.  Which then makes you think about the make-up of juries and what exactly a "peer" is and whether or not anything ever works as well as it should.  

I do know one thing--spending eight hours in the jury room of the San Francisco criminal court further cemented my opposition to the death penalty.  You do NOT want a bunch of people subsisting on Mountain Dew and stale granola bars to decide whether you live or die. 

A thing I like

It's not just because I am the voice of the dispatcher, either.  This animation about Darfur by the dear Mark Fiore is everything , in my humble opinion, a political cartoon should be: funny, depressing, clever, informative, and able to make a point without being preachy.  Watch it.  Then go to his website and click on the "do something" button.  He might not be preachy, but I am.

New tricks

Maggie in a bucket on the first sunny day in weeks

Remember number 3?  This little jobby: "learn to sew, even a little?"  Well, check.  I spent the first sunny Saturday in six weeks in a strange industrial building learning how to wind a bobbin and sew a French hem.  It was just me and one 2o-something hipster boy in an ironic t-shirt who barely spoke except to say he wanted to learn to sew so he could alter his thrift store clothes.  Oh, 20-something hipster boys, how it warms my heart to learn that some things never change.  And here I thought all San Franciscans were now driving minivans and discussing pediatricians or how, on second thought, maybe Botox isn't so bad.  But, no, many are still buying clothes by the pound at Thrift Town and fashioning bedrooms out of hallways with nothing more than an Indian tapestry.

But back to sewing.  Here's the thing: it's fun and I made a nice little drawstring bag, but now I'm scared it requires a knack for spacial relations that I genetically lack. Also, there was some nerve racking adding of fractions.  Still I plan to persevere.  I'm even planning on making everyone I know beautiful cloth napkins.  Squares, I can handle.   I think.

My mother-in-law just made this outfit for Maggie.  Cute, right?

A thing I like

Craft Haven Collective, where I took my class in San Francisco. Not only do they teach sewing to hipsters and anxious 39-year-olds, they also teach sewing and entrepreneurial skills to at-risk girls through Turning Heads.  Pretty cool, huh?  If you want to learn to sew, you should take a class there. Really, they are very nice.

Buy Nothing check-in number 2, or what should I be doing in today's economic climate?

Oh February, you wet and weary month (Thank you, Oscars.  Thank you birthday).  It's a hard month in which not to spend money.  I mean, it's not as if you can spend all that free time picnicking and riding ponies.  No, you are pretty much trapped indoors while the rain tap, tap, taps on your window.  And sometimes indoors means, for example, a mall. Or perhaps a boutique.  Sometimes it means Target.

Yes, this is all just preamble to my admission that I was less than perfect during BUY NOTHING: MONTH 2. It wasn't that bad, but there were a couple of incidents of shopping-as-entertainment.

I'm not going to bore you with another purchase-by-purchase list, but I will say that I did score a couple incredible consignment beauties (not new, and thus totally acceptable under the terms of agreement) like this purse in gray from Rachel Nasvik for $26 (please note that it retails for $595). 

 

All-in-all I spent:

$19 on a vinyl "M" for above Maggie's bed.

$43 on above mentioned purse plus a pair of pants

$60 on a pair of jeans marked down from $200, so, you know, not so bad.  Unfortunately, they are a size too big.

$8 on more lip gloss.  This time on the actual color worn by Drew Barrymore.

$45 on various baby gifts for all of our reproducing friends.

$15 on an amazingly beautiful Calvin Klein dress found on the clearance rack at Marshalls (I know, I shouldn't have been there. But aren't you glad I was?)

$16 white t-shirt with becoming gathers

$24 on 20 pairs of socks for the kids (because it was getting ridiculous). 

$25 on more plastic bins from Target

Total: $255.  

Yikes (but still less than the retail price of the new purse).

Up next: Restaurant-free March.  That's right, we are eating every meal in this month.  Starting on the 2nd because we forgot it was the first and we ordered in sushi.  But now we're serious. Stay tuned to see how we do it. 

And please, comment and let me know if you are cutting back this recession season.  Sometimes I think I am only helping to make the economic downturn worse.  But I can't help it.  I'm nervous.

A thing I like

Grammar Girl.  What exactly is a comma splice and why is it bad?  She knows.  Who or whom?  She also knows that.  She even knows the answer to the whole diphthong debate.  I could spend hours.  Really.

Kim Carnes is the most exciting thing in my life right now

I know, I know, it's been an age.  I wish I had a good excuse but really I've just been wandering around in a sort of daze punctuated by moments spent watching music videos from the '80s (hello, Rick Springfield!) on You Tube.  A few things happened: My dad came back from a meditation retreat in Patzcuaro, Mexico; I went out to a bar and got totally blottoed on two drinks (it's been a while since I've found myself in a bar), I finished reading a novel that I thought I was going to love but didn't, I lost four pounds on Weight Watchers. But, as you can see, they lack a certain, um, narrative cohesion.  Unless the story they are trying to tell is one about arriving at a plodding middle age.  Here's the thing: I have no idea what's going to happen next.  I'm not even sure what to look forward to.  I know that's supposed to be a sign of depression, but I'm not depressed.  I'm just really, really sleepy a lot of the time.  But obviously I need to shake things up a bit, no?  Now that the Oscars are over and my birthday is behind me I need something to look forward to.

Tell me what you are looking forward to.  Maybe I'll get some good ideas.

But here's something: my children have been lovely this past week.  We've had our battles, but on the whole it's been quite pleasant.  Maybe our endless disciplining is paying off?  Or maybe they got together and decided to give the old lady a break.  She just seems so sleepy and all. 

A thing I like

Betty Davis Eyes, which, let's be honest, is a fantastic song that has really withstood the test of time. I miss the days when you could just rent a wind machine and a get together in your friend's basement and make a video.  Although I have no complaints about Thriller either.

What I found in my closet: history, Hungary, and Dave Eggers

Not my real closet

I'm true to my word and last night I began the odious number 37 on my 39 Things to do Before My Next Birthday list. I started with the closet in the guestroom/TV room/office/library.  It's also known as the Mister's closet. The Mister, being the exact opposite of  a clothes horse (what it takes to get that guy to buy a new pair of pants, I swear!) only needs half a closet.  The other half is relegated to, well all that stuff we think we need, but don't really want out and about: Framed art we no longer hang on our walls, a sewing kit, many old photo albums in various states of yellowing, all my beading paraphernalia left over from the '90s, a gazillion instruction books for obsolete electronic devices.  You get the picture.   

But here are some things I found that were kind of cool:

1. A list in my grandmother's handwriting titled "50 best paying markets for writers."  It's dated 1948 and includes a section called "Markets buying humorous greetings."  This reminds me so much of my own yearnings, ambitions and bouts of industrious list-making I almost can't stand it. 

2. Three crumbling copies of the Golden Gate Park News with advertisements for Dr. C. Bouvier's Buchu Gin health tonic, "fine lots" in Larkspur for $200 ($1 down, call Bush 541), and "knit to fit" underwear on Post St.  I can't for the life of me find a date on the thing, but it advertises the new Japanese Tea Gardens so I'm figuring they're from around 1894.  

3. This polaroid of Dave Eggers and some girl I've never seen before. By the way, check out his lovely if nervous acceptance speech for the 2008 TED award.  "The primacy of the written word in terms of nurturing democracy, nurturing an enlightened life."  Oh, Dave.  Sigh. 

4. My student ID from when I studied in Hungary in 1989.  Obviously it was before the whole eyebrow shaping phenomena.  Man, did we eat a lot of sausage back then. 

 

A thing I like

Getting rid of stuff.

Magnolias in bloom

You can buy this image here.

It's drizzly and gray again here.  We desperately need the rain, and yet, sigh, it's not exactly a mood elevator.  Except, of course, when you happen upon a Magnolia tree all bursting and blooming and gettin' crazy with huge pink blossoms.  My Magnolia calls them "Maggie trees" and whenever I point one out to her she nods and says, "Now open your eyes and look for an Olive tree for Ollie."  Isn't that magnanimous of little Magnolia? 

Speaking of twins.  If I lived in this Brazilian town, I would STAY AWAY from the water.

A thing I like

Photo originally published in Domino Magazine

I'm sort of addicted to decorating and home blogs (not the nerdy ones, just the room-porn ones).   I didn't used to be like this.  I used to take my ma's old castoffs (Hello, chipped lavender nightstand. Hello, dresser I've had since birth.) and call it a day.  Now?  Well now our little 1941 house in the Sunset is under constant scrutiny and in the throes of a hundred DIY projects.  It's all due to my job as a home editor at Sunset magazine, where pouring over beautiful homes is part of my job description. 

Anyway, right now I am, like everyone else, loving Design Sponge.  I especially like this little tidbit on how to go about remaking a room.  Personally I start by manically perusing Craigslist for used stuff, but some people, as I understand it, start with a grand vision.