That's sew hot right now.

I saw this on Pinterest a while back and thought I'd be adventurous.

Source: flickr.com via Sarah on Pinterest

So I went to the nearby (scary) Ross and found an XL men's sweatshirt for $4.99 and bought it.

Before

I used a favorite fleece jacket as a guide and trimmed down the arms.

Then, I psyched myself out and got very very afraid that I wasn't going to do this very well at all and I put everything in a bag and put that bag in my closet.

 Then, my sainted mother came to town, and helped me finish this baby in a few hours.

After

Then I saw another thing on Pinterest-- heart shaped elbow patches.

We each hand-stitched one on.  While "Downton" played.  That detail was very important.  Overall, this was the best $6 investment of all time.

After the After

(Here I am with a little Tae Bo action for all you Billy Blanks enthusiasts out there)

Mom.

This past weekend, my Mom came to town, and we promptly set about painting it red.

She was coming into town for her annual “Sisters-In-Law Retreat,” and this year the destination of choice was Palo Alto!  I got to see some aunts and cousins, and we all attended my cousin Erin’s concert.  She is the world’s most fantastic Soprano, and soon to be a PhD in Vocal Performance.  It doesn’t get much more legit than that, I’m afraid.  And as if that weren’t enough, she has a sense of humor that has everyone in any room in constant stitches.

On Sunday, I wowed my Mom by showing her the world of Pinterest.  I'm afraid she has now caught the bug.  She's one of the most creative women I know, and so adding Pinterest to the mix could be combustible.  We also  went for a stroll and saw a guinea fowl running wildly through the apartment complex.  I chased it down to get a shot.

On Monday morning, we went for a three hour morning walk.  It poured rain the whole time.  We walked all through the neighborhood she was raised in and laughed so hard I’m sure we were disturbing the peace.  My Mom was born and raised here, and it’s so fun to see her in her old stomping grounds.  Every few seconds a memory would pop into her head and she’d have us go down a random side street where she’d say things like,

“Oh, this is where I used to ride my bike with so-and-so sitting on the handle bars.”

“You see that house?  So-and-so lived there.  She was this really brainy girl in my Latin class.”

“So-and-so’s Dad planted that tree and now look at it!”

“I used to come here with my Mom and we’d get a few treats and then go to the ballet.”

“I remember when I’d save up some money and come here for lunch in High School and get a roast beef sandwich on egg bread with original spread and pickles, and it was like living in the lap of luxury.”

“See what this person did with their house colors?  What they really should have done is made that white trim a creamier color so that you don’t feel like your eyes are being assaulted by all that baking-soda white.”

“Let’s move to the other side of the street so we don’t get whacked by all those agapanthus leaves.”

“Oh I love what this person did with that winding brick walkway.  It just looks so romantic.”

We ate Cheese House sandwiches, bought See’s chocolates, walked around the local fabric store, and then came home, grabbed some blankets, and watched (what else?) “Downton Abbey.”

I rarely get so much wonderful one-on-one time with my Mom, and it was a perfect weekend.

I’ve never been so sad to drive someone to the airport.

Thanks for such a golden weekend, Mom.

Because it was a rainy day, and I'm becoming my mother

Yesterday morning I went for a run.

It's been rainy the past few days, and on my way out of our apartment complex I spotted the brightest double rainbow I've ever seen (what does it mean?!).

 At one point it looked as though the end of the rainbow was at the Cheese House, down the street.  Which would make perfect sense, seeing as their sandwiches make me drool golden saliva.

I came home and knew today was the day.  As rain started noisily pouring down and creating puddles in the uneven concrete divots on our balcony I says to myself, "Self, it's time to get over your fear of active dry yeast."  And I made my very first loaf of homemade wheat bread.

I don't make bread, ever.  I'm honestly consistently afraid that I'll really mess it up and wind up with a dense brick of a loaf that will turn to glue in my insides, and it will all have been a waste of time.  Yeast seems like such a weird and fickle thing.  I looked through www.allrecipes.com to find a highly rated recipe and found this one. I halved it as follows (I didn't want to commit to 2-3 loaves without making sure 1 loaf came out right):

Ingredients:
1-1/2 cups warm water (110 degrees F/45 degrees C)
1 (.25 ounce) package active dry yeast
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons (or ⅙ cup) honey
2-1/2 cups bread flour
1.5 tablespoon butter, melted
2 tablespoons and 2 teaspoons (or ⅙ cup) honey
1-1/2 teaspoons salt
1 cup whole wheat flour (plus an additional 1-2 cups as needed)
1 tablespoon butter, melted

 1. In a large bowl, mix warm water, yeast, and 2TB and 2tsp honey. Add 2.5 cups white bread flour, and stir to combine. Let set for 30 minutes, or until big and bubbly.
2. Mix in 1 ½ tablespoons melted butter, 2 TB and 2 tsp honey, and salt. Stir in 1 cup whole wheat flour.
 3. Flour a flat surface and knead with whole wheat flour until not real sticky - just pulling away from the counter, but still sticky to touch (about 5-8 minutes). This may take an additional 1 to 2 cups of whole wheat flour. Place in a greased bowl, turning once to coat the surface of the dough. Cover with a dishtowel. Let rise in a warm place until doubled.
4. Punch down, and form 1 loaf. Place in greased 9 x 5 inch loaf pans, and allow to rise until dough has topped the pan by one inch.
5. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 25 to 30 minutes; do not over-bake. Lightly brush the tops of loaf with 1 tablespoon melted butter when done to prevent crust from getting hard. Cool completely.

 There's nothing like the smell or taste of freshly baked bread. I'm hooked. Oh, yeah, you can forget about it, Orowheat. We're through.

Doing this made me think of my Mom. I can feel myself becoming more and more like her. Maybe it's more like I'm beginning to think her way is the ONLY way to do something. I'm sure it's her genetics that require me to be watching something British (and having to do with women worrying about which gentleman will accept their meager dowry and provide them with a snazzy lifestyle in their Victorian England context) whenever I sew anything. And I'm pretty sure that she's the reason I went to TOWN on some coupons that got mailed to our apartment for some other previous tenant, and that I now have my very own "coupon wallet" (aka the J. Crew coin purse Becca got me for my birthday in 2007). And it's also because of her that I can't really be comfortable on the couch without a blanket draped over me. But there's really no woman I rather share neuroses with.