tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14608894888306399222024-03-05T02:52:43.154-05:00 k n i t y o u r s e l f p r e t t yLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.comBlogger169125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-67380176224442327662013-04-26T14:45:00.000-04:002013-04-26T14:45:07.844-04:00Garden Upgrade
For the past several years, Robb and I have had this thing where we attempt to do a complete garden overhaul in one day. It's a totally exhausting pain in the ass that usually begins with high spirits and a trip to Home Depot! We then haul ten bags of soil and manure into the backyard (along with a ton of other crap we decided we HAD to have), and we spend the afternoon tilling all of the soilLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-65295257947538468492013-04-18T22:54:00.000-04:002013-04-18T22:54:38.606-04:00New Top, New Day
You know how you sometimes hear people say things like "stay in the moment"? Or "enjoy the moment"? Or "savor the moment"? These people are usually yoga teachers or life coaches or a meme on Facebook or Oprah or your aunt on your wedding day. And you know they mean well, and you know that they're totally right. Yes! You say to yourself. I shall live today in the moment! And then you proceed toLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-47823500176173304842013-04-12T11:28:00.000-04:002013-04-12T11:28:18.064-04:00One Year Later
For those who are curious about why people would spend time knitting sweaters for babies, I am here to tell you why. This is why. This little girl right here. And actually, all little girls everywhere. And little boys, too. Every single stitch is worth it if only for the moment when your best girlfriend sends a photo over the great divide of our nation, which bounces up to a satellite and landsLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-80574197598484074432013-04-04T17:44:00.000-04:002013-04-04T17:50:50.399-04:00Sometimes You Make Cookies
"I went into the kitchen. I love food. The clarity of it, the direct pleasure. I love it simple, absolutely fresh and freshly cooked. At my worst, like now, when nothing makes sense to myself, I'll cook something as a way of forcing order back into chaos. As a way of re-establishing myself, at least in this one thing. It steadies my hands." --From The PowerBook by Jeanette Winterson
Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-27107851665121339902013-03-25T14:57:00.000-04:002013-03-25T15:05:34.209-04:00Brunch and MeditationAfter last week's post on meditation (and giant pillows), I had a sudden flashback to something I had written years ago. It was buried within a larger piece called "30 Thoughts" in which I challenged myself to write for 30 days on topics for which I felt passionately--be it love or loathing, greatest hopes and fears. This list included everything from fruit trees to bed bugs, from my fear of the Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-41526813676780944172013-03-21T15:35:00.000-04:002013-03-21T15:45:40.558-04:00Giant Pillows
I am trying very hard to bring more balance into my life these days. Being a Libra and all, I'm already reasonably balanced when it comes to some things. I'm pretty good at not thinking about work when I'm not at work. And I'm okay at not thinking about my personal life when I am at my desk. Throughout the course of a week, I flutter between nights home in my pajamas, nights out with friendsLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-65061323290601424292013-03-17T13:46:00.000-04:002013-03-17T13:46:20.090-04:00Adventure Backpack
A couple months ago when I dyed my backback turquoise, I had a vision. It was me in cut-off jeans, hiking through an overgrown trail in the jungle. I imagined there would be boulders to sidestep and large, bushy jungle plants I'd have to push back with my forearms. I imagined that it would be hot and sticky, and that at the end of the trail would be something fabulous--a swimming hole with a Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-5246545949979776192013-03-11T13:39:00.001-04:002013-03-11T13:39:33.079-04:00Hybrids - the Mutts of the Tomato World
I planted tomato seeds today. This was, in fact, not at all what I planned to do. Not today, not this winter, not even this year. The biggest reason I was surprised to find myself planting the tomato seeds is because we were in Mexico yesterday. And I have to go to work tomorrow. And, well, with only one day to sulk in the weak New York sunshine before heading back to a day of good, bad, and Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-80184012145267961982013-02-21T16:45:00.000-05:002013-02-21T16:45:26.015-05:00Sleeves and Such
I wouldn't exactly call it a funk. That's not quite the state that I have been in. But I have been quiet, and that has been good. For me, for you, for all of us probably. Right? Unless you've missed hearing from me every week, in which case I would like to say I'm sorry...I've missed you, too! (Though you probably know I'm just saying that to make you feel better. And look, now I've made thingsLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-26931377731077455312013-01-27T17:38:00.000-05:002013-01-27T17:52:50.136-05:00Double Dyeing
It's true, I carry a backpack. I'm one of those people. I do not wear sneakers to work, so I still have some dignity. But at the end of the day (and in the morning, too), I must admit that I am an adult who slips one arm through a strap, and then the other. There is a reason, of course.
The primary reason is that I am a big bag lady. Meaning, I have a compulsive need to take a lot ofLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-70961947185631901732013-01-07T21:51:00.000-05:002013-01-08T10:58:48.017-05:00New Buttons on an Old Coat
This last weekend was one of recovery. I know, I know...I had a whole beautiful wonderful ten days away from work over the holidays. What I did with that time, I don't really know. It is all a blur of red wine and this amazingly fatty dip my dad makes that involves cream cheese and a whole jar of olives. There was a moody California landscape as well as the faces of so many people I love...it Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-55189952500411194732012-12-09T19:13:00.002-05:002012-12-09T19:13:40.586-05:00Street Treats
Back when I lived in San Francisco, we used to find cool things out on the street all the time. And we'd even bring them into our homes--a thought that is unheard of in this day and age. But we didn't even think about bed bugs back then. As far as I knew, they were something Henry Miller had to deal with in 1920s Paris as he ran around from brothel to brothel in Tropic of Cancer. I found Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-20868177797939767462012-12-03T22:54:00.001-05:002012-12-03T22:54:48.496-05:00Last Week's Cake
I must admit, after a long, challenging Monday, it's hard to remember the pure elation that went into making this cake last Thursday night. Isn't it funny how far we swing during the course of just one week? My cycle typically begins with a fabulous "the world is a good place to be" type of feeling on Friday, an energetic, hopeful lilt on Saturday, a sleepy, slightly moody Sunday followed by aLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-24149495105984691222012-11-27T22:33:00.000-05:002012-11-27T22:33:09.423-05:00Jess's Girl
Know what's amazing? When a girl you grew up with is having a baby. I first met my dear friend Jess when she was 15 years old, on the first day of rehearsals for Into the Woods. She rocked a really cool bowl cut and swooped in to take the lead as the Baker's Wife with her booming, gorgeous voice. Naturally, we were all intrigued. Over the years, I've watched her grow out of that bowl cut and Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-45883878378864395482012-11-15T19:10:00.000-05:002013-03-13T17:02:59.860-04:00On Art & Editing
As Robb and I walked through the Met last weekend, we started to get into that lovely hour-three rhythm, where you stop reading every placard and accept that you aren't going to see everything. We spent far too long looking at a medieval crossbow and breezed right by the Monets, not really feeling too enthused about all that pastel. Right about the time our legs were starting to ache and we Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-65536363575744963712012-10-31T22:06:00.000-04:002013-03-13T17:02:22.564-04:00Hurricane Sweater
I tell ya, this hurricane thing has been pretty crazy. Having grown up in California, I had no idea what to expect. On Monday--the day the fun was due to begin--I sat at the dog park giving Camper a pre-storm run as another friendly dog owner explained to me how in Florida, coconuts can literally fly off the trees and kill you during a hurricane! He advised me to get some nonperishable goods Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-61514207799677118682012-10-23T17:52:00.000-04:002013-03-13T17:01:59.190-04:00Jess's Future Stylish Child
So you know how in my last blog post I went on and on about how focused I am right now? How I'm not really crafting all that much? How I'm only working on Robb's sweater and the writing of an epic story? Well, it turns out I'm having trouble keeping that focus. This is hardly a surprise.
Last night as Robb and I watched the debates, I knit his sweater furiously (literally...these debates make Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-40142359547934199522012-10-18T22:38:00.000-04:002013-03-13T17:01:30.642-04:00Writing Stories
I haven't been doing much crafting lately. It's true! And it's a rather strange thing for me not to give into every creative whim. (I usually begin each weekend by making a list of things I would like to make, practical or not, and making them just because they sound like fun at that very moment.)
Instead, I am using this lovely cool autumn to focus my efforts. I am reading a lot. I am goingLianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-78910666246120306572012-10-10T22:45:00.002-04:002013-03-13T17:00:39.294-04:00Textile Porn
Some weeks have a theme. The theme might be something as trite as "I watched a lot of Friday Night Lights" or "I drank a lot of Syrah." Some weeks I eat almost exclusively Mexican food. Some weeks I play an inconceivable amount of solitaire on my phone. This week, however, the theme has been textiles. Which photographs much better, I must say, than Mexican food or video games.
I have Lena Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-39084384817623824282012-10-03T18:13:00.001-04:002013-03-13T17:00:11.110-04:00Dear Tomato
Dear Tomato,
I don't usually like to resort to this type of language, but you suck. All of you. (Well, not the cherry tomatoes, they are just fine). But you? You are infuriating. You are stubborn and selfish. I gave you just as much as much sunshine as other years (and don't try to tell me the apple tree created too much shade...we all know how wimpy that apple tree is). And yet you Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-68910233000051844352012-09-28T18:29:00.000-04:002013-03-13T16:59:19.030-04:00Floor Books
Here is what I don't like about e-books: if I want to judge someone's intelligence and taste, I have to find their e-reading device and stealthily peruse its contents while the person is not looking.
That's not really my style, though. I much prefer that we all keep our books out in the open, where we can scan their spines and gain an understanding of what kind of treasures and trash we have Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-14257560641857303792012-09-23T18:56:00.000-04:002013-03-13T16:59:06.496-04:00Halfway House
I feel it important you all know that as I begin writing this blog post, the lyrics "Ooooh, we're halfway there, oh OH living on a prayer!" are blasting in my head. That's what I get for trying to tell you the story about my weekend and how I only got halfway along on everything I started.
I think the problem is the dogs. Yes, we should certainly blame it on the dogs.
For one whole Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-59679196977138986432012-09-16T22:14:00.000-04:002013-03-13T16:58:38.105-04:00A Little Tableau
When Robb and I were on our honeymoon, we decided to leave the confines of our Caribbean resort and go across the street to an establishment called Tequila Joe's. I donned a faux denim romper, Robb put on his nicest cargo shorts, and we sat in the shade of the patio, sipping terrible margaritas. It should be known that the logo for Tequila Joe's is a cactus (that looks not unlike a pickle) Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-17358683363533018452012-09-09T19:14:00.000-04:002013-03-13T16:58:02.090-04:00Six Yards
About two months ago, I spontaneously ordered six yards of wool/silk jersey online. The package arrived and inside was a small, tight mound of fabric. I was at first taken aback by how little fabric six yards seemed to be...the bundle was so small! But the package itself had a nice heft to it. Oh, I realized...this is one of those fabrics that has drape. And bounce. That clings and flows. This,Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1460889488830639922.post-8197479661319429722012-09-04T18:33:00.000-04:002013-03-13T16:57:37.473-04:00Frida's Ensemble
In early June, Megan had a baby, and though I didn't get to meet little Miss Frida until early August, I already knew how much I would love watching her grow up. And how much I would love watching Megan grow up, too.
When I first met Megan, she was 27-years-old and had just returned from a many-months-long trip to Europe. Both wordly and world-worn, she came home to San Francisco to find Lianahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13156323336032946325noreply@blogger.com2