A Bed of Red Tulips

Last fall Hans and I planted a bed of red tulips.  We did it on a windy, drizzly October day, putting the little bulbs to bed and wishing them a good winter.  Then we set to work welcoming little twin grandchildren, flying down to California to take care of my mom for a month, then back up here to begin day care for the twins when our daughter had to return to work. 

Everybody knows that twins are a lot of work, Saturday mornings affords me a long luxurious shower, time on the computer, baking scones, even brushing my teeth when I want to without dashing in to the bathroom during nap time.  But the real luxury is having them in the first place. 

Disappointment mounted month after month as no baby was forthcoming, then joy of joys, here they are full of all the delights of babyhood.  Squishy legs and pudgy cheeks, cooing and splashing in the bath.  Sweet little eyelashes closed on porcelain skin.  Smiles and kicking of booties.

Since we are between Good Friday and Easter, a good question to consider is what might have gone on in the sepulcher, or down under the ground with tulips, or how one might be growing as they withdraw from the world to care for family members.  I have great hopes that this time will be even moderately as fruitful. 

Raising the Strong Willed Child

When our youngest was kindergarten age, several of the other mothers at school started suggesting books like Your Strong Willed Child.  I read them and laughed.  They might have worked on some children, I suppose.

Little Go To It liked to ski straight down the hill.  In her puffy green jacket and panda bear hat, all I could do was holler “Watch out for that ski lift pole!”  Pretty much everything was hell bent.  Screaming down our cul de sac on her bike, she forgot to brake and ran into a car, breaking her knee while we had a baby sitter.  

Wasn’t the only time.

After school sometimes she’d go into the office and ask Mrs. LaDuca if she could have the rest of the Costco muffin tray that someone brought in that morning.  Mrs. LaDuca nodded, rather surpised that Little Go To It could eat them all, but Go To It wouldn’t eat them herself.  She’d take them out to the carpool lane where parents were picking up kids and sell them.  Then into the basketball game and sell the rest.  She’d give the money to the school or buy a book for the library. At least that’s what she told me she did with the money.

Her fourth grade teacher wrote on her end of the year report card: “…has made such progress this year!  She used to come in from recess and say ‘MOVE’ to the other kids that were in her way.  Now she bellows ‘EXCUSE ME!’”

When she finally left that small private school and moved to public school, they gave her some tests to see where to place her.  One of them was a creativity test.  I asked what was involved with that.  The administrator said that the child is given a box to draw in.  Inside the box is pre-printed something like you or I might have drawn for a seagull flying away into the sunset.  You know, sort of like a cursive “M”.  Two humps.  If the child draws seagulls flying away into the sunset, well…not very creative.

When Go To It came out we asked her about this. 

“What did you draw?” we asked.

“Well, I drew a man.  Fixing the pipes under the sink.  You know.  A plumber.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.  You can’t see much of him.  Only the part that you can usually see on plumbers. Don’t blame me, they had already put in the butt crack.  You know, two humps. I made sure they got it by drawing a tool box next to him with the name Rising Moon Plumbing Company.”

My guess is that she passed.

All grown up know, as an event coordinator, she has to have plenty of creativity.  Even in the Army, she better have creativity, for she helps her company plan parties for family welfare and recreation. One must come up with great ideas on a shoestring.  And I’m thinking, that since she’s in the Army, it is also good that she knows how to say MOVE or EXCUSE ME when she has to.

I couldn’t be prouder.

The Straw Bonnet Fiasco

I love bonnets for my reenacting hobby.  Can't have too many bonnets, a girl might say.  My grandmother  left a box of old clothes to be used for costumes, and in there was a dilapidated straw hat, which still bore some serviceable flowers.  Their life might be extended on a new straw hat, so I purchased a straw bonnet form.

I've torn apart straw hats to turn them into bonnets, so blithely ripped off the front of this form, as I didn't like the front of it.  I prefer the rounded shaped of the 1850's to the later high brim of the 1860's.  The plaits of this bonnet were very narrow and it was taking forever to sew back together, so I decided I simply must do it by machine.

Rats!  The straw plait got caught in the presser feet.  So I know!  Wash away stabilizer.  I checked my supplies, and just happened to have some.  I cut numerous strips and it worked wonderfully.  I then soaked the bonnet form.  How long is this supposed to take?  Isn't it fairly instant?  The stabilizer would NOT wash away, and I had strips of white something-or-other hanging on the inside of the bonnet.  Perhaps it was tear away stabilizer.  No, it was not.  It would not tear.  Period.

Rats!  So I spend the greater part of the morning painstakingly cutting and gently pulling, but still had to resew a great deal of it by hand.

Although the white strips mostly came off, I can still see some and can't get it out.  So I know!  I'll dye the thing black.  I will go perfectly with the flowers I intended to use, and a dark pink bow will be lovely.

I read the directions on the package of Rit dye, even though I've used it before.  I've never done straw before. They said you could use two cups of hot water and sponge it on.  I got on disposable gloves and and apron, read the directions again, and set to work.

Rats! The result was the ugliest mottled straw bonnet I've ever seen.  I rinsed as much dye out as I could.  The left glove had a leak in it and now I've got a black hand.  So I know!  Fabric paint!

So it's off to the craft store to buy some paint.  Hope this works.  Anybody out there ever paint a straw hat?