AfricanKelli

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What lies behind us, and what lies before us are small matters to what lies within us.~~Ralph Waldo Emerson

The bags are packed,  car fueled, maps printed, mixed CDs burned,  snacks baked and July birthday cards posted. I’m heading off on a solo road trip for the next couple weeks. I plan to see family and friends, sleep under the stars, fly fish, take long hikes through the Rockies and Tetons, ride a horse or two, maybe kiss a cowboy or two and document each spirit-refreshing step with an adventurer’s wanderlust.

Be well, friends.

xoxo,

Kelli

The garden is clinging to life. Squash, pumpkins, sun flowers, basil, rosemary and watermelons are holding steadfast, bless their little hearts. The composter needs some attention, as does the front, former tomato, plot. I am looking forward to cooler weather and a giant Fall/Winter garden.

In the meantime, I really hope those pumpkins hold fast. I’ve got a couple little friends in mind who I’d like to surprise come October. How fun will it be to invite my friends’ children over to pick their own pumpkin out of my patch*? Yes, this very well may be a new zenith of domestic dorkiness.

I’ll need some overalls, and a pitchfork…

~K

*And by “my patch” I mean the tiny garden Matt has been so diligently watering and nurturing for the last two months.

Inspiration — from in spirit — from the latin root of being in breath — is fascinating.  Breathing the same air as those who have come before gives me so much to consider. Lately I’ve been inspired by tales of extradordinary faith, such as that of Immaculee Iibagiza. Her story of surviving Rwanda and of connecting with God during the worst time life could possible hand you, is, not coincidentally, breathtaking.

My heartache of late has fueled much time praying, sitting alone in churches, writing, meditating and trying to find God’s voice.  I’m exhausted.  Plus, I’m a bit of a spiritual pariah. Most of my friends hear about my time talking with God and think I’ve got soft in the head. Immaculee lived with seven other women in closet-sized bathroom for months. I’ve got days in pain of an entirely lesser degree, with food, without companions also suffering, and I am wiped out. I have no idea how she did it.

The only thing I do have in common with this amazing woman is our shared belief. I would have to hope if ever put in a similarly trying situation where I was fighting for simple survival, I’d be on my knees reaching out in prayer. This seems to be the only thing I know how to do. I vividly remember praying for my family when I went to live in Mexico at age 14. I would find quiet cathedrals to sit in to speak with God, asking for the homesickness to fall away. Quickly enough, it did. I sat in the Catholic church in Flagstaff begging God to keep a friend safe during a breast cancer scare in college. A blue-eyed, blond angel painted near the ceiling seemed to watch over me and sure enough, my similarly beautiful blond friend was deemed healthy soon enough.  I cried through my prayers on the way to Cameroon, sobbing so much I infuriated those sitting next to me on the long flight. I found a huge church in Yaounde, with a black and white mosaic Jesus behind the altar, staring at the array of tile as I  prayed to end the homesickness; instead God brought me home.

I prayed and visited churches and friends for many months after the last time I said goodbye to a loved one. I felt cracked, but God didn’t accept my Humpty Dumpty ways. He glued me back together by keeping my friends and family close by, and reminding me that life without golf really wasn’t such a bad thing. In fact, it’s much better.

See? My woes by comparison are so minuscule, it’s shameful. I should say I have nothing in common with this incredible woman and I should say so with an attitude of thanks. Her life has been so miserably difficult. Her story has made me appreciate the simple blessings in life — like my family — so much more.

We are like so many other American WASPY families in that most of our traditions have fallen away with the generations. We maintain a few cultural things here and there, but for the most part our family is very much apple pie. I was lamenting to a girlfriend the other day that I so wish we had some Irish or English customs so I’d know how to pass them on to my own children. Later, without knowing why I was doing so, I took her into my closet and opened my hope chest to show her the collection of handmade quilts and wall hangings my mother has made me over the years.

She stepped back, looked me in the eye and smiled.

“Kelli, these are your traditions. Here are your customs,” she said, running her hand over one of my most cherished possessions — fabrics selected, cut and sewn together with unconditional love.

She’s right. My mom’s love for art is our tradition. Her generosity in gifting me  the luxurious new sewing machine is nothing in comparison to her generosity of spirit. My mother loves me with such a fierce force, it is embarrassing how at times I’ve let myself forget. She sent the machine and has spent so many hours coaxing me through bobbin winding and stomach unwinding. I am exceptionally blessed to have my parents. I’ll never understand why I’ve been so lucky to have this family, but I hope another day never passes without recognizing what a gift they are.

Thank you Immaculee. In many ways, your story has reminded me how my family and spirit are one.

~K

I was getting a pedicure this afternoon, reading the July issue of  In Style when a quote jumped out at me:

“Life without love is like a year without summer.” — Swedish proverb

So, let’s add a little love, shall we? Because God knows summer is here in full force. What better way to rock both love and a great summer than with a fun new tiny camera and a great quilted case to protect it? Think wristlet, but with a flannel fabric you are going to quilt yourself. And who doesn’t have a tiny digital camera at the bottom of her purse that gets banged around? Well, technically I don’t. But that’s because I carry my giant camera most places. But I know MANY of you do. Time to protect the camera baby with a pretty new little case.

Come on.

No excuses.

The same goes for all of my sewing projects. If I can do this, without a doubt, so can a trained monkey. So don’t tell me you can’t.

Prep: Get a fat quarter of flannel, a fat quarter of your B fabric , a fat quarter of quilt batting, and a pretty coordinating zipper, at least 8″.

First, buy a digital camera. In this case, an inexpensive camera perfect for a novice photographer.

Ladybug red.

Take the camera out of the packaging and arrange things nicely so they can be tucked into your finished case.

Get your supplies ready. Ballerina flannel? Check. Additional pretty pink fabric? Check. Zipper. Triple check.

So, I made this case with measurements to fit the camera, the accessories and a giant pack of batteries. Your case may need to be bigger or smaller depending on what you want to carry. This case is 10″ tall x 9″ wide, finished. I cut 1 piece of flannel 18″ in length by 7″ in height. I then cut my B fabric (pink in this case), 18″ in length by 3″ wide.

Right sides together, pin fabric A (ballerina) and fabric B (pink) together. Sew a 1/4″ seam along the top.

Press the seam flat.

Pin 18″ in width x 10″ in height of quilt batting to the back side of the joined fabrics.

Using 1″ freezer tape as a guide, carefully quilt 1″ lines going one direction on the fabric. (The tape will pull at the flannel if you aren’t careful. You may just want to eyeball this.)

Voila.

Then use the same piece of tape to measure the lines going the other direction. The result is a beautiful piece of quilted flannel. I did NOT quilt the pink fabric. This is a matter of aesthetics. Your choice, your style.

Then, cut the 18″ quilted piece in two. You now have your front and back pieces of your quilted camera case.

Now cut two more pieces of flannel. These are your linings. Cut each 9″ wide x 10″ tall.

Additionally, if you’d like a handle for your quilted camera case, cut one piece of flannel 4″ wide by 10″ long. Then iron in half length wise. Fold over, tucking all raw edges inside. Sew as close to all four sides as possible, closing in the the long raw edge.

Voila. Iron in half.

Blurry pic. Sorry. Take two pieces 2″ x 2″ of fabric B. Fold under one edge with your iron. Then pin to the edge of your zipper. Sew carefully along the tucked under edge. This allows you to create the exact size zipper you’d like. Once you have sewn both pieces of fabric (after measuring how long you need your zipper. In this case, we need one at least 9″ long), you can cut off the remaining part of the zipper.

Sew fabric B to zipper after measuring.

Don’t forget to be ridiculously egotistical and add your label to your lining piece too.

Then make your zipper sandwich. Place one front piece right side up. Line up the zipper edge on the top edge of your front piece. Then place your lining piece right side down on top of the zipper and front piece edges. Pin through all three. Sew with your zipper foot connecting your front piece to your lining piece #1.

Rinse and repeat for the other side of the zipper. If zippers freak you out, check out this prior tutorial for help. Also, this tutorial will walk you through connecting the front and lining pieces and attaching the handle.

Voila. Yes, that’s the third voila. I’m feeling very French.

Oui oui!

C’est bon, non?

Fill with accessories, wrap with pretty tissue, gift with pleasure.

Email me if you have questions. Hope you enjoy your quilted camera case!

~K

We are officially in the heart of summer in Phoenix. The weather is so incredibly warm, it is unbelievable to me anything can thrive outside. And yet, the sunflowers reach for the sky. The tallest one in the garden must be 10 feet. They are glorious, with their bright, happy blooms arching over the wall. I can see them from the kitchen sink and they make me smile every time I catch a golden glimpse.

The summer heat brings back  childhood memories of riding my bike to the nearby library and curling around a stack of new books, sitting as close to one of the air conditioning vents as possible to be chilled before throwing my backpack over my shoulder and heading home. Some things never change; I’ve been curled up reading more than usual lately, enjoying books Zarah generously sent. “Blue Like Jazz” is an interesting take on Christianity. “Unaccustomed Earth” is one of the best books I’ve read in a very long time. The latest issue of “Ready Made” is wonderful, with an entire section on scrap sewing and Japanese zakka. I’m also enjoying “Left to Tell” (although it gave me nightmares last night) and have “Candide” waiting next.

My resolution of reading 60 books this year is going to be a stretch; I’ve been lazy about blogging what I’ve been enjoying, but there is always a stack on my nightstand. Also, I’ve been out to see a bunch of great movies lately. “The Proposal” is such fun; I’ve always been a Sandra Bullock fan. “The Hangover” is the funniest and foulest movie I’ve ever seen — hilarious in a shocking and perverse way. And “Away We Go” is simply sweet and makes me love Maya Rudolph.

Plus, the movie theaters are ice cold this time of year. And you can always sneak in a few minutes early with a good book.

~K

Quilted fat quarters: Japanese inspiration: bamboo handle: gift for a sweet girlfriend

~k

Today we celebrate the birth of Rebilou, who turns 30. Granted, we’re also celebrating the birth of a nation, but for as long as I can remember, the fireworks meant Bec was blowing out another candle. Happy birthday to la Rebecca!

Additionally, I heard this week a different friend has gone into remission, showing the wicked cancer who’s boss. I couldn’t be happier for J, knowing plenty more good fortune is headed her way. She’s handled the last year with such incredible grace and spirit. I have no idea how she’s made chemo seem fashionable, but she is just that sort. We are all so, so relieved her health is on the rebound.

On the other side of the coin, a girlfriend contacted me yesterday about Kate McRae. She’s a Phoenix sweetheart who is currently at Phoenix Children’s Hospital. She had a brain tumor removed yesterday. Her folks attend Velda Rose United Methodist and are asking for prayer. If you don’t mind, I’m certain they’d appreciate your thoughts and well wishes.

Next July 4th, may we have our dancing shoes on, celebrating Kate’s recovery too!

~K

I’m thinking this pattern with a bamboo handle. Sweet, sweet moses these bags are going to rock.

So, I’ve got a bit of a bone to pick with Maureen Dowd. Ms. Dowd, op/ed writer for The New York Times, gave considerable print this week to how scorned women — harrigans — should behave in times of turmoil. Specifically, she focused her wrath on the Jenny Sanford, the wife in the middle of the Argentinan tan lined South Carolina governor scandal. Phew. That’s a spicy mouthful.

Here’s the deal — ladies, I’d be much happier if we stopped this. Stop giving each other advice on how you’d handle something so tender and raw. Stop beating each other up. Stop being judgmental and mean and remember that we are all in this together. I read that column and left with the sincere feeling that Ms. Dowd hasn’t ever been so vulnerable. Lucky her. Most of us have been through miserably heartbreaking pain that leaves you scratching your head wondering how in the world you’ll get dressed tomorrow. Without CNN on the front lawn to document each step.

I don’t know what I’d do if I was Jenny Sanford. But I do know that my opinion on the matter has changed since the Spitzer debacle. I am no longer so certain that life is black and white, simply wrong or right, up or down, etc. (Okay, I am still certain that Mr. Spitzer has a waspy wanker.)  There are somethings that fall in the gray that are ugly and horrible and private.

So, I’m not going to bash Maureen for her column because that would negate the point of all women being a part of this sisterhood. God knows, and oh, does He know, I am so far from perfect and have made so many mistakes in the past in talking trash about others. I am pretty sure I need to stop that right now. Instead, I’m really going to put effort into following the golden rule always, not just when I’m in front of the person.

What I would say to Maureen given the chance is:

“Look. Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes life hands you Pulitzers. Take a deep breath and refocus your efforts, words, energies on something that could perhaps make this world better. Teaching women how to handle themselves after adultery isn’t the best use of your talents.”

C’est tout. And it really is too bad I’ve decided to take the feminine high road this week because HELP ME RHONDA Sarah Pallin just quit. Wow.

~K

Patience, said Rodin, is also a form of action.

Thank you, to whomever sent this colorful bouquet of encouragement and love. You must know me well — the simplicity of the flowers and vase, the sunflower (a Ya Ya staple) and the white roses are just right. My smile today reflects your kindness.

~K

My passport is up for renewal. In the last 10 years I’ve managed to travel to:

Israel, Palestine, Nicaragua, the Philippines, Mexico, Bolivia, Peru, Ecuador, Mozambique, South Africa, Cameroon, Malawi, Costa Rica, Ireland, England and the Bahamas. Most of these adventures have been through college scholarships, volunteering, work and good fortune. I’m exceptionally lucky when it comes to finding great international adventure with little to no budget.

This passport is one of my favorite things. My parents don’t travel much and as a kid, when I read of foreign lands, I had no idea how I’d ever get there.  While I may not have a house full of nice furniture, or a car without dings, I’ve got this little book that reminds me of all the amazing people I’ve met, the cultures I’ve inhaled, the food, spirit, scent and joy of far away lands I’ve celebrated.

Next on the list: France, New Zealand, Australia, Fiji, Italy, Switzerland, Zimbabwe, Rwanda and Egypt.  I’d also very much like to go back to Stellenbosch.

My wanderlust is not entirely gone, but it is very nice now to be enjoying a garden and other things that require me to be in one place for more than a few months.

~K