Posie Gets Cozy

Navy Skirty (WIP #1)

Navy skirty, pretty cute. It's baby-wale corduroy, very soft, with topstitching done by hand with six strands of tan embroidery floss. Cool folky buttons which you can't really see very well. This is Simplicity pattern 2758, view E. Ish. Longer. Skinnier waistband since I misread the instructions and only cut one instead of two of fabric, and by the end of Wednesday afternoon was too lazy to go back and unfold the extra fabric and recut it and do it the right way. So I just folded it over twice and made it skinnier. Fine. Next one I'll put the pockets on lower. A lot lower. Love the pleat, though. Taking photos of a navy-blue skirt is like taking photos of a black doggie: Light absorbers. (The other stuff in the photo is all thrifted. This is the wall of the dining room [which is as dark as a cave today].) Susan asked how I keep track of where I am in each WIP and I thought, "Oh, yeah! I should do that!" So I guess that is the answer: I just push things aside and then pick them up months later in confusion: "What is this? Oh . . . yeah . . . that [vague, dawning memory seeping in, no notes or indications where to pick up, general frustration with self and lazy habits, etc.]."

While I was making this: Ding-dong! The UPS man dropped off this skirt from Boden, almost exactly the same shape. With cable tights and boots: a winter uniform. Now for somewhere to go! Not today though: I am tiiiiired. Long week. Feel like ordering curry, getting under a pile of pets, and watching a movie tonight. What are your favorite movies that take place in contemporary London? Like really take place in London, where you can see London and the city feels integral to the movie? Kind of like Love, Actually or About a Boy. I love both of those. I have been meaning to ask this for a while! Thank you!

Apple Tree Days

Last year at this time, we were just back from one of the best vacations in my whole entire life, our trip to Victoria, British Columbia. Remember that? Wasn't it awesome? If you haven't been there, you can come along with us again now: Day One, Day Two, Day Three, and Day Four. And Day Five. That was just such a nice trip in so many different ways. I took the picture above at Butchart Gardens, and we talked about getting an apple tree for our own back yard, and we are going to try to do that this weekend. I think I would like a dwarf apple tree with red apples instead of yellow. It will go back in the corner by the garage and the fence and the hammock. If you have any recommendations, let me know. I am pretty excited about having an apple tree. I don't know if any of our neighbors have one that is close enough to polinate or anything like that. I want to plant lillies of the valley and daffodils under it, since those seem like two of the best parts of having an apple tree.

A scene from the movie Bright Star

I was thinking about our trip to Victoria yesterday, too, because there was that day (Day Two) that reminded me so much of walking across Hampstead Heath when I was 21, and going to John Keats' house, and on to Highgate Cemetery by myself; the weather was the same, the wet, red leaves and foggy, dull light. We went to see Bright Star yesterday afternoon, mostly because that day in London is one of those strange days that is just stuck so resolutely in my memory, and in my memory of myself, and I think of it at this time every year, and feel like I have to do something about it. Actually, I don't "think" of it as much as it feels like it visits me, like a spirit: London in November, the smell of frying onions and wool coats, the sound of my steps. Bright Star the movie had the same feel and colors, quiet, patient colors: blues and grays and greens and darks and pearly lights. And, oh, for Fanny's wardrobe! Anyway, I won't talk about it too much, but I loved it, 'cause I love all that stuff. I'm going back to see it again with my friend Aimee because this time I'll just watch for the details. They played some previews for more movies that I really want to catch, including Coco Before Chanel, The Young Victoria, and Life is Precious, which has the most moving trailer I've ever seen.

Thank you SO much for all of the nice and super encouraging things you said about the painting. I busted out laughing at some of the comments, too. It's been such a fun week painting, mostly because it's something so different from the things I usually do, and it feel so good to break out of my old routine sometimes. I have four more paintings planned (I know, I am crazed) and last night I got a bee in my bonnet to learn how to make some 

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 woodcuts.

See, I bet you didn't think I was going to say that, did you. That's how we roll here at Posie Gets Cozy, though.

Farmer's Daughter Apron

Remember the apron I was making a few weeks ago?

I finished it!

I am so happy with it. It's exactly what I was going for (rare). It's generous and sort of . . . serious. Pretty but serious. Makes you feel like you can bake a ribbon-winning pie. I love long aprons — baker's aprons — the ones that really cover you, with long, generous ties (ahem).

The apron is made of linen, and trimmed with binding tape (not bias cut, just straight). It's about eight yards of binding! I don't like full aprons that just have a neck loop and then tie separately at the waist. The neck loop is never in the right place for me. These ties attach at the top of the bib, cross in back, go through loops at the waistline, cross again, and come to the front to be tied in a bow. Doing them this way makes the apron really adjustable, so it fits better.

The embroidery is a couple of Swedish floral designs I put together, done entirely in satin stitch (with two strands of cotton embroidery floss) and outlined with dark brown back stitch. I picked up some of the flower colors that were in that dark brown calico (from JoAnn's, many years ago now).

My friend Sarah and I finally saw Julie & Julia a couple of days ago and we loved it, especially the Julia parts. The clothes. The kitchens. The . . . everything. Her aprons — long, straight, serious. French. It was all so beautiful. I've got to see the movie again and just watch the sets and costumes this time. I went right home and cleaned the kitchen. And stared happily at my apron. I'm going to do the ties and binding a bit differently on the next one (have the side-bodice binding turn into the ties, and also, bind it completely by machine). (To be honest, and fully disclose my lunacy, I did the binding on this one by machine and hand.) There are plans for a next one — next four ones. (Three are already in progress. All different colors. I told you, I'm crazed.) There is a special someone's birthday coming up, and I am going to make three more for my mom and sweet sissies for Christmas. My sister Susie is an actual pastry chef, too — how cool is that.

This one is for me, though. My uniform for fall baking. Hmmm, what should I make . . . something French? Not a tarte tatin, though. I made one of those last year and I didn't really like it (quel dommage!). Something from Baking with Julia, maybe, because it's now (naturally) in my TiVo queue. Or maybe these chocolate souffles.

Wasn't Meryl Streep so amazing as Julia? Magical.

Hot Summer Soup

Thank you very much for all of your gentle and truly kind comments on Tuesday's post. I got choked up reading so many of them, as I always do when people talk about love, and animals. I have been in love with one animal or another my whole life, it seems; even when I had no real-life pets, I rode an imaginary horse through my neighborhood, or I named an imaginary puppy, or I dreamed about getting my very own cat. It's funny how some people are like that, and some people aren't. I wonder where it comes from. When I was really young, I decided that if I was ever lucky enough to have my own dog, I wanted a corgi, and I must have only known about corgis from the lovely, gentle Tasha Tudor, whose books I had as a child and whose life and work has influenced me in too many ways to count. If I couldn't have a 13.2-hand dapple-gray Connemara pony with a black mane and tail named Musette (specifically), I wanted a corgi. When Andy and I have a disagreement, no matter what the topic, I just eventually say, "Well, fine, but I was the one who wanted a corgi!!!" and then, y'know, that's it: I win, hands down. It just works that way.

Shall we talk soup? Let's. This is my creamy corn bisque, modified over the years from a recipe that originally appeared in The Oregonian a long time ago. We made it last night and ate it with fresh garlic bread.

Creamy Corn Bisque

1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon butter
1 large leek, white portion only, rinsed and chopped
2 carrots, chopped
2 teaspoons fresh thyme, chopped
1 tablespoon fresh basil, chopped
2 cups chicken stock
3/4 pound potatoes, peeled and cut into 1/2" cubes
1 cup half-and-half
1 cup corn kernels (you can use frozen corn here, if that's what you have)
1/2 teaspoon salt or more, depending on how well-salted your chicken stock is

Sour cream
Hot sauce

Heat oil and butter in a large saucepan. Add leeks and carrots and cook over medium heat for five minutes. Add herbs, chicken stock, and potatoes. Bring to a boil then reduce heat to low; cook, covered, for ten minutes until potatoes are just tender. Stir in half-and-half, corn, and salt. Bring just to a boil, then reduce heat to low and simmer for three minutes, stirring. Serve with a dollop of sour cream with a few shakes of hot sauce stirred in.

I am going to a potluck party on Saturday. What is your favorite summer potluck dish that doesn't have vinegar, olives, or salmon (I don't like those things) in it? And I know this is sacrilege, but I don't really like tomatoes, either, so forget those. I almost always bring Ina's Pasta, Pesto, and Peas to summer potlucks, and I love love love it, but I really need something new.

In other news, I am completely obsessed with watching Anthony Bourdain's show No Reservations lately. The Montana episode is coming up on Monday night and I am so excited.

*In answer to the questions about half-and-half, it is half cream and half milk, sold already blended in the U.S. Be careful adding milk to hot soup because it will separate and curdle if it boils. Heavy cream won't, so if you don't have half-and-half, I'd probably add half cream/half chicken stock or water.

My Christmas-Movie Screenplay Plans

I've almost convinced Andy to write a Christmas-movie screenplay with me. Not an awesome movie like Elf, or Prancer, or The Family Man. But a made-for-TV one (what's not awesome about these!) like Boyfriend for Christmas (pictured above), Christmas Do-Over, or Holiday in Handcuffs. I've told him that it's easy: All we need to do is pick out and incorporate about ten of these Christmas-movie must-contains and we'll be set:

A character named Holly, Mary, Merry, Chris, Kris, Christy, Kristin, Nick, Nicholas, Rudolpha, Carol, Noel, Noelle, or some diminutive of Ebeneezer.

A widow.

A widower.

An orphan.

A soldier, sailor, or marine.

A homeless person who is, it is suspected, actually Santa/God/an angel.

A soup kitchen.

A workaholic corporate suit who schedules meetings on Christmas Eve and has clearly forgotten the reason for the season.

A cottage industry/family business in danger of being put out of business by big-box store/urban development/greedy coporation.

A character who pretends to be someone else.

A blizzard that knocks out all forms of transportation or communication.

Two characters who hate each other forced, by the blizzard, to spend the night in a cabin with no utilities and who wind up in love by the next morning.

A stinky, drunk department-store Santa. Who hates kids.

Someone in a Santa suit who stole something who is now being chased by a hundred other people in Santa suits. Through Manhattan.

Santa who falls ill/is too old/has lost hope, and Christmas is in danger of being cancelled.

Santa's son or daughter who must take over his job reluctantly, or with difficult conditions (must marry today by midnight, e.g.).

A child who knows more than all of the adults combined.

Stupid adults.

Toy freak out: not enough toys, wrong toys, toys lost, toys not able to reach their destinations.

A character who absolutely hates Christmas due to some past loss. Loss occuring around Christmastime.

A character who loves Christmas when everyone else around him/her hates it.

Overworked elf. Lazy elf. Cranky elf. Naive elf. One nice elf.

A character who returns home to find that things have changed. And, in a weird way, stayed much the same.

A character, unlucky in love, who returns home to find their high-school sweetheart conveniently unmarried.

A deer. Could be reindeer. Could be Rudolph.

Miracle snow.

Right? Now, which ten, which ten . . . Hmmm.

Why my muscles have atrophied.

Wow, that movie list yesterday was awesome! Who knew how many of us out there not only watch movies for the interiors, but watch the same movies for the interiors?

I think I will put a list together out of the comments, and thank you so much for those. There are two reasons that the list comes at the perfect time. The second reason I'll tell you about soon, since I think the contract is in the mail (hint, hint); the first reason is that after today I am going to need something to watch other than CNN for eight hours a day!!! I've forgotten how to watch anything but CNN!!!

Here're my convos for the past two months:

Someone: "Would you like to go out to dinner?"
Me: "Would, but I'd miss my show."
Someone: "What show?"
Me: " . . . Campbell Brown: No Bias, No Bull."
Someone: "But you have TiVo. "
Me: "It's not the same."

Someone: "Can you go to the store and get some groceries?"
Me: "Would, but I've fallen onto the couch in front of CNN and can't get up."
Someone: "Jeez."

Someone: "Didn't [the candidate] just say that same exact thing in the same exact way yesterday?"
Me: "He's actually said it eight times already today."
Someone: "There he goes again."

Me: "I'm gonna miss Roland Martin and David Gergin and Paul Begala after election day!"
Someone: "Maybe then you can make some real friends, though."

So yes, thank goodness it's November 4 so that maybe now I'll be able to get a life! I will miss The Situation Room, though. And AC 360. And what will Campbell Brown do now that the election is over? She's pregnant again, so that's exciting. I'll miss Dana Bash and John King's magic map! I now know more about retirement funds, luxury sedans, the potential side-effects of Celebrex, and why it's important to get AARP supplemental insurance than I've ever known before. At least we'll still have The Daily Show and The Colbert Report. What a marathon it's been. I wonder what's going to happen! What an exciting time for our country. How wonderful it's been to feel like we're headed, no matter what happens, in a different direction.

Vote today!

(Almost) Ten Movies I Watch Over and Over Again Just Because I Love What the Inside of the Character's House Looks Like

1. The Holiday (Ooo, check this out.)

2. Green Card

3. Something's Gotta Give

4. Under the Tuscan Sun

5. Passion of Mind

6. Nanny McPhee

7. No Reservations

8. Kiss Me Goodbye

9. Seems Like Old Times

10. ____________________

Any suggestions?

Great Pumpkin Pasta

Did you watch that show on PBS last night about the people who grow giant pumpkins? Oh man! It was emotional! I had no idea. I almost cried, myself (and let me just say, there was much discussion of crying). That lady who named her pumpkin Shasta? Oh, my heart. So good. I love shows like this. The best kind of TV. And it really did make me want to try to grow a giant pumpkin. But apparently you need a yard the size of a football field and absolutely no life, since you have to spend about four or five hours a day out in the garden taking care of your pumpkin and miss your daugher's soccer games. Since the 'kin can grow up to forty pounds a day. I have the no-life part (at least lately, since I never leave the property), so I could do that, but I don't have the yard for it. And let me tell you, if you, like me, thought growing a giant pumpkin seemed like "fun," you've got another think coming. Because when you watch this show, you will see that it looks like about the most stressful undertaking ever. Mice, woodchucks, beetles, hurricanes, and PATCH SABOTAGERS are all enemies of the great pumpkin. The lady describing her husband running around screaming and chasing the woodchuck was just hilarious. Sort of.

After I watched the show, I went to bed, and early this morning I had the weirdest dream that I was growing a secret giant pumpkin in the bathtub behind a white frosted shower curtain. This was in my old bathroom in my old apartment in the "brown box" in Rock Island, Illinois, where everything in the bathroom was bright white. I would never look at it, and then one day I did look at it and it was pale orange and bulging out of the tub (not attractive — giant pumpkins are actually pretty gruesome-looking, the poor beasts). I got very nervous and started to worry how I was going to tell Andy about it, and was wondering if the bathtub and 'kin was going to crash through the floor, and then what would the landlord say (I am terrified of landlords and whenever I had one would live in constant fear of getting yelled at by the landlord), and how would we get it out since it seemed to be sort of encasing the tub in its own warty folds. And then I woke up. THANK GOODNESS!!! Phew. Close one.

I woke Andy up and told him about the pumpkin show and the dream. It was hard to explain how obsessed I had become with the pumpkin in the past twelve hours just like the people on the show said would happen. Disturbingness!!!

I asked Andy to dictate one of the recipes he frequently makes in the fall. He has a few seasonal recipes in his repertoire that he makes, and I never make them. Because they're better when someone else makes them for you. This is one of those. Serve this with a big spinach salad and crusty French bread. Super great.

Great Pumpkin Pasta, as told to [me] by Andy Paulson, but originally from a recipe from Country Living magazine a couple of years ago

1 c. whipping cream or heavy cream
1/2 c. pumpkin puree
1/4 c. grated Parmesan cheese
20 leaves of fresh sage
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
3 links of mild Italian sausage
1 lb. rigatoni

The first thing you should do is find a little 9" x 9" . . . glass [metal] . . . thingy. So you can broil your sausage in it. Put the sausage in your pan, and put it in the oven and turn the broiler on.

Grab a [medium] pot. Pour your cup of cream in it, put your pumpkin puree and Parmesan cheese in, mix it together, and chop and add the sage, the salt, and the pepper. What I do is get the cream and stuff going and then I go out to the garden and cut myself some sage. Put that all on medium heat, bring to a simmer, then turn it down and leave it on a low simmer.

In the meantime, get the water boiling. When the water's boiling [please salt it, says Alicia], put the rigatoni in and stir. Look at the sausages and see if they're browned on top. If they are, use tongs to flip them. When the pasta's done, drain it, and return it to the pan. Add the cream sauce and stir it [gently]. Remove sausage from broiler and slice it into bite-size pieces and add it to the pasta. Sprinkle a little more Parmesan cheese on top and serve!!!

Pastitsio Weather (Except It's August)

Weather weirdness. Thunder, lightning, rain, big clouds. Good stuff, stuff we don't get a lot of in August. Cold. Wondering if I should close the windows because it's cold. Instead I splurged and made the pastitsio from Falling Cloudberries, because what else warms up a chilly summer evening than a hot oven and a bubbling casserole.

I have so many things to tell you about, but I am so behind in stuff like that. I will say that I have finished reading almost everything on my summer reading list, plus a few. I saw Get Smart and loved it. I saw Kit Kittredge with my niece and that was really cute. I saw Brideshead Revisited and the second half of it was so disappointing I complained loudly about it in public for a half an hour afterward. The first half was awesome, the second half just completely disintegrated for me. But I still love you, Matthew Goode. If I didn't, would I really watch Chasing Liberty for the seventh time and then watch the Mandy Moore–Matthew Goode commentary version again immediately afterward? No. I would not.

Just sayin.

Star Sighting. Almost.

I bought a few handled baskets at Marshall's (my very favorite store) this summer, and they had pretty cotton liners in them. It reminded me that I'd been wanting to line this big basket shoulder bag that I got from Land's End last summer. So I made this calico liner a few weeks ago. The dog's leash is hanging up there for a sort of scale, but still, the basket is about eighteen inches tall and however many inches wide, and I now take it with me everywhere, for groceries, or any kind of shopping where I can use it instead of taking a plastic bag. The liner splits into these separate little flaps to go around the handles, but otherwise it's just a solid liner inside. Good. Cool. Keep reading, this gets better.

So. Though I usually use a big plastic box, I stuffed all my orders into the bag the other day and took it to the post office for the first time. The post office was, for only the second time (and the first time at this particular location), empty. Empty. EMPTY.

You know how my head starts spinning around on my neck when that happens. And no, I have no idea why this phenomenon sends me into such a state. I cannot explain it.

I raced to the front of the non-existent line, looking around wildly, and exclaimed to the three post office clerks, "Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!!! There is no one here! I am the only one here! Wow wow wow!" I hefted my bag, bulging with dozens of Precious-Bundle padded envelopes, onto the counter and managed to say, between exclaimations, that everything was already labeled and ready to go, as usual (I do this almost every week, so they are used to me). The post office clerk, my favorite guy — early 60s, loves jazz, very nice hair — took the bag and promptly and dramatically turned it upside down and dumped the contents into one of those big, wheeled, canvas P.O. bins. Out flew all of my packages — as well as the fabric liner, several pens and pencils, my Taco del Mar punch card, the mail I'd just picked up from my P.O. box, a dog bone, my sunglasses, and three Super Plus tampons. I apologized. Other customers had since arrived. My clerk was diving repeatedly into the big canvas bin to fetch my tampons and punch card out of it. It should have been embarrassing, but I was still jabbering away excitedly about being first in line. Suddenly I heard a familiar voice say to another P.O. clerk:

"Thank ya very kindly, ma'am."

And out of the corner of my eye I saw a tall, thin guy in jeans and a jean jacket walking away.

Then my P.O. clerk said, "That was Sam Elliott!!!"

"WHAT?"
"Yeah, he comes in here all the time! His mom lives in Parkrose!"
"Oh man, I love Sam Elliott! He's in one of my favorite movies!"
"Which movie?"
"Prancer!"
" . . . "
"Wow, Sam Elliott. . . . Cool."

Okay, it didn't get that much better. But you have to admit, Sam Elliott is pretty cool. It was almost awesome.