The artist in her booth, trying not to melt.

Phew, what an insane last couple of weeks!! Preparing for a craft fair as a mother of two must be harder than climbing Everest. But I did it, and somehow it is over and we have all survived.

The craft fair itself was, unfortunately, a complete flop in terms of sales, largely to blame on the fact that it was quite simply the wrong audience and I was very much out of place as an artsy gal trying to sell prints to people looking to buy kettle corn and hot dogs. Vendors who had previously attended the fair did remark that sales were down at least 50%, a sign I suppose of the current state of the economy. Ah well, I did learn how to set up and take down my display, I met some wonderful vendors, did too much shopping and came home with lots of goodies. I also learned that outdoor fairs in July are not a good idea for me: I wilt in the heat, and my dear husband had to come to my rescue. I am honestly married to the most wonderful man in the universe. He sat in the heat, behind sweet peas and lavender, promoting my work with a smile and much charm, and he did not complain once. When I went back to the fair for my cooler, evening 'shift', the other vendors couldn't say enough about what a wonderful guy he is. Sigh. I know. What a lucky woman I am. He even put up with me dragging him to the Bellevue Arts Fair (which I am going to apply to for next year) on Sunday afternoon.

And now the kids need a bath and the house, well, I just won't go into details. But before I leave you, here are some of the goodies I came home with, as well as some painters I fell in love with at the Bellevue Arts Fair. Enjoy!

A Mason bee house from Able Wood Design.

An air plant!! Yup, no roots, no planter. Official name:Tillandsia, bought from Owens Garden.

Fiona, who came to visit and owns this print as a giclee on canvas in her nursery. Apparently she likes to wake up each morning and point out the bird, sunflower, and cloud! Clever girl. Good taste too :)

Reusable, dishwasher/washing machine safe snack and sandwhich bags from mymamaluvs.com
So excited to find these! Business in owned by two local moms.

And what girl can resist beautiful jewelry? One pair for me (long, dangly ones) and one pair for one of my lucky girlfriends...Su of SuStudioJewelry is as elegant as her creations.

My fauvist soul fell in love with paintings by Diane Culhane at the Bellevue Arts Fair. Lonny, my 30th Birthday is coming up...

And apparently I have some minimalist in me because I also love Brian Blackham's bottles (also at the Bellevue Arts Fair). They remind me of a family portrait. The windowsills in my parents' home in France are decorated with several of these 'families'.

Yurt and Dirt

We went camping last weekend with my parenting group. Well okay, I admit it doesn't count as real camping because we chickened out of tenting and stayed in a yurt instead. We still got devoured by mosquitoes, got to hear our neighbours practicing their audition for the next Viagra ad, and ate burnt hot dogs. And we found kid heaven: Maia and her friends (and yes, Papa too) got to play on the largest pile of sand EVER. It was a fun couple days but I must say I was delighted to come home to my very soft, gigantic bed. My kind of heaven!

Ça gronde

I love thunderstorms, and we just had a good one. I knew it was brewing as soon as the house got very quiet, the daylight became weak and blue and when I looked out I was not surprised to see menacing clouds. Then the house shook and the sky rumbled before emptying it's swollen belly of hail stones. And as I stood at the window watching my poor tomato plants getting assaulted, I was a little girl again in the heart of France, thinking: " ça gronde!". It growls. We often had thunderstorms in the Auvergne. Violent ones that would build for days, circling our small valley and causing the villagers to talk of nothing else, speculating as to when the sky would unleash it's fury onto our terracotta roofs.

In school, the children could sense the storm's presence and we were distracted. We rarely had the lights on in our one room school. Our Maitresse preferred the ample natural light that flooded in through the large windows, and seemed rather suspicious of the overhead fluorescent lamps and the electricity they wasted. It was only when we were squinting to read our texts that she would sigh, look to the ceiling in resignation, and appoint a student the privilege of flicking the switch. You can understand that the computer our school was given sat at the back of the class, collecting dust. I don't think she could find the switch. I doubt she looked very hard.

During a storm our Maitresse knew there was no point in trying to teach us the subjonctif. We were as excited as the dogs throughout the village, and had we been allowed, I think we would have barked our heads off too. However, we were allowed to close our books, put the caps back on our fountain pens, and become spectators. Lights were left off, and we watched lightning dance across the hills. The younger children, who were afraid, were allowed to leave their desks and gather by her side, and we would all count together: "One, two, three, four...it's only four kilometres away! Hope none of the sheep get hit by this one!" And we would talk of the lightning rod at the top of the castle and on the church spire, comforted by the fact that they would protect us from the skies. And they did. Many years later, I learned that my teacher, by then retired, was visiting her daughter during one such storm. The house, not far from the school, was hit in a brilliant flash of light that came down the walls and blew the television and all electrical appliances, leaving them smoking. No one was hurt, but I think it did nothing to quell my Maitresse's distrust of modernity.

First...

First butter lettuce, chard and dill from the garden

We got a dog!!! I've been bugging Lonny for, oh, about 13 years now, and it finally happened! We got in touch with our local Greyhound shelter and went out last Sunday to meet a few dogs, not expecting to find one on our first visit. But we had barely parked the car when I was welcomed by a dog at the gate and it was love at first sight. Crazy but true. He looked at me with his big copper eyes and that was that. And he happened to be cat and kid-friendly. And available. And he was even the first dog they brought to us. We have named him Griffin, and despite two trips to the vet in five days for injured paws due to his extreme clutziness, he is settling in nicely. As you can see for yourself:

First nap in the grass (and obviously hating it)

Not the first time looking silly

Oh and it's HOT today. It is after 7pm and I am still melting as I type this. I don't do well with this heat thing. And it looks like we've skipped Spring altogether and jumped right into Summer. Grumble. But the good news is that we did enjoy the first cherries of the season at the Farmer's market today, as well as our first lettuce, chard, and dill from our very own garden! Delicious. And Maia had fun picking them, in fact she wanted to pick everything in the garden but I somehow managed to convince her not to.

First cherries of the season

And I was so busy being nostalgic in my last post that I didn't mention (well, not properly at least) Kieran's 1st birthday! My baby turned one (sniff sniff) last Tuesday. We celebrated with ice-cream cake (which he approved of), friends and family.

That's our news for the time being, and now I am going to stand in front of the fan and eat ice cubes.

Kieran's 1st birthday!

Spinney Lane

I was picking up wrapping paper from the grass, trying to clean up a bit after Kieran's 1st birthday party, when my mom called. We still had a few guests and Kieran was trying to do a backflip off the rocking chair, and normally I would have asked if I could call back later, but I immediately knew that she needed to tell me something. I braced myself, expecting news of someone's poor health, or worse, the death of a friend or family member. It was neither, thank goodness, but it was still sad news; my dear aunt June and Uncle Des have finally sold their house, their beloved Sea Urchin on Spinney Lane, in Southern England. A house that was too large for an elderly couple battling MS, with stairs and the burden of a garden, and too great a distance from family and much needed help.

We should feel happy and relieved for them, their new home will be in the same village as their daughter, it is smaller, has a manageable garden. And yet...my mother and I will cry. Perhaps my father. June and Des certainly. For this is the garden my parents ate home-made bread crumb ice-cream in to celebrate their marriage. This is the house my grandmother Lalla bought shortly after the second world war. This is where her grandchildren grew up. It is the house down Spinney Lane, past the churchyard where Lalla and her beloved Philip rest, under the old oak tree, smelling of the sea. It is where the family gathered at Christmas to play cherades and grimace at Brussel Sprouts. It is the house I wanted to bring Maia to, and did, where she ran through the grass and picked daisies and then sat on my uncle's lap at breakfast to read the paper. It is just bricks and mortar and wood and a roof, but it has been the only constant in all of our busy, ever-changing lives. I wonder if the new owners realize just how many spirits will wander in that home and garden once we start passing on. I will miss it terribly.

Kieran shares his birthday with his great-aunt June. She was delighted when my father called to tell her the news of his birth. I will be thinking of her this coming Tuesday as I celebrate my son's 1st year with us. Oh how time flies, and how quickly we grow old. And may we take joy in what we have, and never take anything for granted.

Cannon Beach

Just got home from a relaxing week with the family at Cannon Beach on the Oregon Coast. We stayed in a funky little 30's cottage two houses from the beach and one block from 'downtown' Cannon Beach. We are sporting rosy cheeks and freckles due to walks on endless beaches, a wind that reminded me of England, and yes, even some sun. Grandma came along, and it was wonderful to get my husband to myself sans kiddos. I even managed to gain some weight (for those of you who don't know my crazy metabolism, this is indeed remarkable!) and convinced Lonny to get a dog (for those of you who don't know how rational and head-strong my husband is, THIS is even more remarkable)!

We were sad to leave, but happy to find our little house again and relieve the brimming mailbox, give some love to our love-starved cats, and mow the meadow that had become our front yard. I am amazed at how much our garden grew in one week! My chard and lettuce were just sprouting when we left and now my raised bed is actually looking like a proper veggy garden with everything starting to get nice and plump. So exciting.

Can't wait to get painting...my head is full of sky and silver waves and red lady-bug boots running through lemon sand. Yum.

Easter Weekend

Every year the Deggan clan gathers for Easter on Gaviola Island. We decorate Easter eggs, eat far too much, and discuss modern art. The latter ought to require ear plugs for safety.

The last time we were able to make it was when Maïa was a wee babe, and so we were very excited to be able to join the family this year. My sister-in-law, who is currently in Germany with her boys for a few weeks, kindly gave us the key to her house on Gabriola, and we enjoyed the luxuries of hot showers and real beds rather than the tent or tiny cabin we usually stay in. We made it out to Gaviola on Saturday. The weather forecast, which had predicted rain with great confidence, was once again proved wrong and we were blessed with a gorgeous warm spring sun. We walked around the island and both Lonny and I went a little camera happy (see photos below!).

On Sunday we had an egg hunt in the rain (the forecast had predicted sun on that day). Maïa didn't seem to notice, however, and was delighted with her soggy chocolate eggs. And speaking of eggs...on our way home to Seattle, after stopping for a quick visit with Grandma in White Rock, we drove to the border and were delighted to find that there was no lineup. I was especially delighted mostly because I had to pee and was looking forward to stopping in Blaine at the gas station to fill up, and, well, empty.

The border guard asked us the usual questions, to which we replied: " Bellevue, and just an Easter basket." He raised his eyebrows, and asked if we had any Kinder Eggs. Lonny was telling him no when I looked around to check Maïa's basket, only to find a Kinder Egg sitting atop it, in plain view. I immediately notified Lonny, who notified the guard, who actually went a bit pink and said it would be seized and destroyed but we wouldn't be fined this time. At this point we were still both thinking that this was some sort of a joke, although were well aware that border guards don't usually have a sense of humour. We did our utmost not to laugh as we were asked to pull over, leave the vehicle and enter a building while they searched the car for drugs, weapons, and, I suppose, more eggs.

Once inside, no less than five guards, all at least six foot four and twice as wide, confiscated our contraband and began the paperwork. We were notified that the egg was a choking hazard, and would be destroyed by fire. At this point Lonny and I were no longer able to control our giggles. This was not helping my situation, and my bladder was protesting. I searched for the restrooms, only to discover that I had been sitting next to a large sign which read: No cell phones, No restrooms. And the guard was making his fifth attempt at spelling Bellevue, with the assistance of the other four guards who were taking turns hitting the delete key.

I can say I was extremely relieved to be released, despite the fact that Maïa's little basket was short one egg. I hope they at least ate the damn thing, that's some pretty tasty chocolate. Perhaps they were planning a chocolate fondue?