micheleandtom.com

Zoe went to #OSCON (Open Source Convention) in Portland this July, attending a robotics camp for girls. Since most of the stuff they worked on with Lego Mindstorms she had already done at home, she found the most thrilling element of the conference to be swag acquisition.

She came home with bags of t-shirts, mugs, mouse pads, and strangely, a ping pong ball. Yes, a ping pong ball. And not just any ping pong ball! This one came complete with a picture of a little masked ninja face on the side, as you can see in the picture above.

One day, this ball provided her with a flash of boredom-relieving inspiration, and she announced, “I am going to make ping pong paddles.”

“Please don’t,” I pleaded, picturing that ill gotten little ball ricocheting around our apartment, and then into my head. By accident, of course.

Big surprise, Zoe ignored me, and with some tongue depressors, paper, and duct tape, she made two ping pong paddles. Amazingly, they functioned perfectly to allow for a robust game of Zoe Pong on our dining room table, since the paddles absorbed enough of the ball’s velocity to allow the game to scale down just the right amount. I hate to admit it, but both Tom and I became big fans of Zoe Pong, and had some epic matches ourselves! (Okay, we don’t officially keep score. We get so competitive, it could get a little too heated!)

After Tom, the Zs and I all took a turn, we agreed unanimously: “Ian is going to love this!” You can see him taking some shots in the picture here!

We were excited this year when Maker Faire came to Portland, albeit in mini form! The kids enjoyed watching the watermelon launched by the giant catapult with the fancy french name…trebuchet! They made some adorable animals out of sculpting chocolate, pedal-powered their own smoothies on some bicycle blenders, and, of course, went in for some obligatory faire face painting.

Only in this case, it was Trackers style. Yes, that’s right. Trackers, or what I call hippie survival camp, which the Zs love. (The girls said they do a zombie apocalypse camp, how cool is that?)

Anyhow, Trackers had a booth at Mini Maker Faire and they were doing some awesome horrorfilmesque face painting that was a draw for old and young alike. Truth be told, it was a bit strange to see wee little tots in line for fake wounds and bruising!

Of course, the girls were instantly smitten with the concept, and placed themselves in line as Tom wandered off to peruse a few uber geeky booths we might find boring.

Zoe quickly made it to the front of the line (the artist was fast), plunked down in the chair and declared, “I would like an open cut on my arm.” The makeup whiz asked me if I had a kleenex, which I did not. But a bystander offered what I hope was an unused napkin, which she declared, “Perfect!”

This Michelangelo of the Macabre ripped a piece of the napkin, placed it on Zoe’s arm, and then sealed it to Zoe’s skin with liquid latex, leaving a line through the center raised and unattached to Zoe. Then, she began to color over it with her makeup brush from a circular palette she called her “bruise wheel!” It looked shockingly real very quickly, the napkin appearing to be peeled back layers of skin.

The icing on the cake, if you will, came when she split open the raised bit of napkin and filled the resulting trough with her special concoction of fake blood (a formulation of chocolate syrup, corn syrup and food coloring). It was disgusting, as you can see in the staged pictures below.

Zelda was next on the docket, and she requested a black eye. The makeup whiz whipped that thing out in a mere minute or two, explaining in detail to Zelda how the bones shatter and the resulting bruise pattern that occurs with a hard strike to the eye socket.

“I don’t know how to do pretty makeup,” she chatted with Zelda. “When I got married, my friends had to do do all the princess work…I only know how to do the scary stuff!”

With my disturbingly wounded lovelies in tow, we set off to find Tom.

It didn’t take long for the tall guy to spot us from a distance, his face lighting up when he saw us approaching. As we came into focus though, his hand went to his heart and he visibly staggered upon seeing the girls, so realistic was the effect. I thought he was going to have a heart attack, which, naturally, was a bonus in the eyes of our darling children!

The walk back to the car drew a lot of shocked glances and outright gawking. Clearly the highlight of Maker Faire for the Zs, and also an interesting experience, to see how fellow pedestrians interacted with their injured selves.

Sometimes, the old fashioned way just feels better.

Tom and I have developed a bit of a tea habit. We like white teas, and green teas, and black teas, and ginger teas. (Although I am lazy about loose leaf. I tend to buy high quality bagged tea, such as Mighty Leaf and Tea Forte.)

We like tea pots too. The small Japanese tea pot. The smaller Chinese tea pot. The big dragon-themed tea pot that I inherited from my Grandmother (which has the faces in the cups, I posted about earlier).

What we don’t like is boiling our water, steeping our tea…and then forgetting about it. For some reason, we just don’t use our watch timers, or our electronic kitchen timer that sits right by the stove.

I’m not sure why, but digital just doesn’t seem to jibe with the process of making and sipping and appreciating tea.

So there we were, middle-aged farts with the short-term memory of fruit flies (we like to blame this on the children) who were letting their tea over steep…sometimes for half an hour!

What to do?

Tom found the perfect solution in my Christmas present last year: an old-fashioned, totally retro, bright yellow mechanical timer. We all love it, and somehow, it seems to fit perfectly with the ceremony that is tea drinking.

As an added bonus, the sound of the timer reminds us all of the bell that rings at the beginning of Starfish and Coffee, by Prince.

Perfect, since it’s one of our favorite family songs!

I had the most fantastic surprise in the mail yesterday! Four gorgeous, fabulous smelling turtle soaps, lovingly handcrafted by my aunt Leslie.

She is an incredibly talented and generous woman who thought the Zs and I would enjoy a little handmade Shea Butter and Aloe Vera soap.

Leslie, you were right! We do enjoy! We are enjoying!

For the record, I would like to say that the Zs practically got in a wrestling match in their excitement over which soap to claim for their bathroom. And, Leslie, you will be happy to know that living with 3 women has rubbed off on Tom, and he appreciates a non-drying hand soap as much as the next guy!

I also wanted to get a plug in for my aunt’s Etsy store. She makes some of the most gorgeous wooden crafts. Her cutting boards with inlaid turquoise–a great Mother’s Day gift.

Thanks Leslie for making my week!!

In Portland, we have a wonderful store, if you adore paper arts and letterpress. It’s called Oblation Paper and Press. I was lucky enough to take a letterpress class there a while ago, working with those incredible old machines and wooden letter blocks (I made a postcard-sized thank you card that said “Danke”).

Anyhow, our current downsized lifestyle, which I adore, does not really include room for a turn-of-the-century, gigantic, zillion pound letterpress machine! (Maybe when the Zs depart…) So, I didn’t think playing with letterpress would be in my future.

Then, Tom gifted me with the crafter-sized QuicKutz Epic 6 letterpress and die cutter this Christmas.

Before even using it, I have to say that I enjoyed reading all of the reviews. I traveled back in time, via the Interwebs, to the moment of its launch to see what reactions were when it first came out. The outraged posts on the part of professional letterpress artists about this innocuous little machine surprised the heck out of me. I am not sure what they found so threatening. I would think it would only expand people’s appreciation for, and understanding of, this incredible art.

The consumer reviews were definitely entertaining. My personal favorite was the complaint that to use it, you would continue to have to purchase supplies. Does a tube of paint came with an inexhaustible supply of canvas? Of course not. Think of it this way, you are buying a tool with a minimum amount of supplies to get started. Also, many complained, “I got it out of the box and it didn’t work perfectly on the first print.”

Welcome to letterpress!

When I took my class at Oblation, the pros had to use a ton of tricks and tweaks to get great results. Every machine had its own personality. Don’t expect home letterpress to be any different.

There are some good posts about modifying the machine, and about other’s experiences with it, including this one from Boxcar, here from Paper Crave, and lastly Viva la Blogette’s review.

Mine own first pass reactions after spending a few hours with the machine several weeks ago are below. Above is a photo of some of the results I got with the Epic 6 during that time.

1. I was able to get passable results pretty quickly out of the box, particularly with the finer letters and lines.

2. The plates that are included are uber low quality. When I opened the box, several of the stock images were dramatically warped and completely unusable.

3. The brayer that was included worked fine for me, particularly on narrow text. In fact, for this, I preferred it to the fancier 6″ one I purchased on the recommendations above. I am curious to order plates from Boxcar though, and use the larger brayer with some guides. This will be the key to good results with larger inked areas, which are hard to coat evenly with the smaller brayer.

4. I had no problem with cracking plates, as others did. But, I didn’t print any large runs. Also, I didn’t press boundaries in terms of increasing the impression depth.

5. Watching a video or two beforehand is definitely helpful.

6. You will definitely want more color than the solo black tube included with the kit, so buy an array of ink ahead of time if you can!

7. Make sure you have lots of time to play the first time you take it out of the box. It’s addictive!

If only I had known how beautiful you are Mr. Sunrise, perhaps I would have dragged my ass out of bed a bit more often to see you! I suppose it is lucky that I live in the Pacific Northwest, where it gets light late enough in the winter that I had the chance to be mesmerized by the sun pouring over the horizon as I strolled over the Steele Bridge on my way to a morning meeting. It was a clear, cold winter day and the view made me stop and haul out my cell to snap a few pix. I don’t know that I have been more entranced by the vista of downtown Portland, or the Willamette River, than I was at that moment. These are the times that I am exceedingly pleased not to have a car, for if I did, I would have missed this entirely.

MY BIKE
TOM’S BIKE
ENVELOPING A RACK

TUCKING
GYOZA WRAPPERS
IN OUR BACKPACK
AN ICED BAG
KEEPS THE
DOUGH FRESH

THE WEIGHT OF
THE FINE PAPER
FOR HOMEMADE
HOLIDAY CARDS
MAKES ME WISH
FOR A ZIP CAR

As most of you know, we made the decision to move back to Portland as renters, living center city, without a car, plunking our children in their neighborhood public schools. And, we made it through last winter, spring soccer, and various summer camps sans vehicle. We were proud. But, as we all know, pride goeth before the fall.

Autumn arrived, and school started anew for the Zs, who were to be on two different campuses, playing soccer in two different leagues that called for four separate practices during the week and two to three soccer games every weekend. My parents were kind enough to loan us a vehicle when this crazy schedule began, and we planned to use it just until we worked through our various transportation challenges.

We began our brief stint of car possession with earnest promises to ourselves.

“We will only use it in place of the Zipcar. We won’t drive anywhere that we would typically walk, bus, streetcar, or bike.”

We super promised each other. But, somewhere along the way, someone must have been crossing their fingers because we learned, the hard way, that when you have a car at your disposal, when it’s parked right downstairs, you opt for efficiency and forget about walking altogether.

“Just this once, it’s so much faster…”

After less than a month, I am sad to say, we almost had fully regressed to the habits of the car owned. Tom knew we had jumped the shark when he drove the 6 blocks to Hot Lips Pizza to pick up food for the kids one night.

Aghast, we called my parents and asked them to take the car back, posthaste. They couldn’t do it for a few weeks, and we were in a panic. No lie, over that month-and-a-half, Tom and I each gained about ten pounds.

I am happy to report that we are again car free these days. (Although still very appreciative for the loan, Mom and Dad!) Yes, it is rainy, stormy, misty, and awful out, but we couldn’t be happier to be biking, walking, and streetcarring once more. The photos you see here in this post were taken on recent walks going about my daily routine — not moments one experiences from a car. I love the organic imprints left by leaves and rain on the sidewalk, which I snapped on the walk to my gym. And, this bare little tree with its few bright orange leaves still clinging to branches provided a stunning contrast to the driving wind and rain that marked a recent trek across the Willamette River on the Steel Bridge as I made my way to a work meeting. Truly, it was exhilarating!

I recently bought some pants that are a smidge too long, breaking my cardinal rule about never purchasing slacks that need to be hemmed. This deviation then prevented me from wearing a typical work shoe with my new suit in an effort to accommodate the longer leg length. You see, I normally wear something from my collection of Danskos for work (various colors and styles, but no clogs), which I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE. They are wide, comfortable, sturdy, attractive … well, in sort of a man-suit kind of way.

I have dubbed these faves my “nun shoes,” which could be interpreted negatively, but rest assured, it is an affectionate nickname! These shoes were my best friends when I worked in brokerage–valiantly trudging through construction sites, standing up to cold empty warehouses, shedding the rain, and not causing fatigue after a full day on my feet.

Strangely enough, I am used to comfortable shoes now. I am acclimated to not torturing my feet. To actually expecting my shoes to fit and be comfortable…ALL DAY.

This was a lesson relearned recently when I wore the pleather boots, shown above, to prevent my aforementioned new pants from dragging on the ground. I had to dash about 1/3 of a mile to pick up my Zipcar for a work meeting, and I have to say, I felt pretty hobbled. (Our new car-free lifestyle is, well, demanding on the old shoes.) Which is not to say I can’t walk in heels, because I can, but good grief, I was really missing the long easy strides I achieve with my nun shoes. And, I was left feeling…hmmm, maybe less substantial… because I was mobility challenged of my own making. (Thank God a train didn’t come, no mad dashes across the tracks for me.)

If you attend a wedding, you will notice as the event winds down that women’s formal shoes are strewn all over the dance floor and can be found tucked betwixt and between tables and chairs. The ridiculousness! Wearing shoes that destroy our feet…buying shoes in which we can’t walk for protracted periods of time! Footwear designed for sitting. I mean really, as we mince and wince around the city in our stilettos and wedges, can we honestly snicker about barbaric practices of the past, like Chinese foot binding? (X-ray of bound feet shown below.)

EPILOGUE: You would think that my desire to avoid sprinting for a Zipcar in the boots of death might motivate me to get those pants hemmed, right?

Sadly, it didn’t. I am lazy.

The next time these particular slacks entered the professional clothing rotation, I avoided my fake leather friends (which are clearly footwear designed for reclining on a black leather chair whilst pretending to be a Dominatrix) by instead using the college trick of temporarily raising my pant’s length with the strategic application of two-sided tape.

Yep, that meant nun shoes for me. Pain-free strolling on the way to my work appointment.

In truth, I felt very smug with myself as my meeting began. Stifling a contented sigh, I crossed my legs during the presentation to sneak a quick peak at my superior temporary hem job, only to realize that I was wearing the wrong color socks! *sigh*

Sometimes, I think I am a horrible girl!!

Readers, meet my new bike! Well, I should say, my new used bike. I love my new bike. It is so awesomely fabulous, I would still adore it, even if it spent the rest of its life sitting in the downstairs bike storage space…which it won’t, I assure you. This baby begs to be out on the open road…and I feel compelled to park my wide ass on that equally wide seat. In truth, I was really bummed I couldn’t ride it to my lunch appointment today — I didn’t have my accoutrement together, such as lock, helmet, etc.

I plan on using this little gem as a fun, commute to in-city work appointments, mode of transportation. I do believe that I need to get a little white basket for the front (yes, I mean “need,” not “want”). I haven’t spent a lot of time on it, but it is a kick to ride. It’s an instant age regression. Sitting so upright…no gears…a big fat cushy seat…pedaling backward to brake. Love it!

Learned something interesting at the bike store today. Our sales guy said that the way thieves are popping kryptonite locks these days is by using the tiny jacks from tiny cars, such as the Mini Cooper. If a bike owner wants to thwart said robbers, it was recommended to us that we buy a lock with the smallest opening needed to affix our two-wheeler to a bike rack. The goal is to prevent them from having enough space to maneuver the jack into the lock, because if they have enough of an opening, they can pop it. The smaller and tighter the fit, the better. Who knew?