green ravioli

little maestro

2009-05-19T09:51:00.000-07:00

He was just there, in his little maestro walker, he pushed a button and a symphony started playing. I, amazed at how more agile he has become with his hands, reaching, touching and grabbing toys, said to amatxu: "He's a genius!". "I know!" she replied, "I didn't know he could compose music so well".

his first words

2009-05-18T09:41:00.000-07:00

Gabo has been a lot more verbal the last few days, I swear I heard him say "mama" yesterday, although amatxu thinks he said "obama".

Either way, I'm cool with that.

anti-chef monday

2009-02-23T01:18:00.000-08:00

I’ve never been a good cook, but that’s ok, I’ve never liked cooking anyway. Since the baby has been here I’ve found myself eating more veggies and buying less processed foods (I’m a mom now, I need to take care of myself). Working all week outside of the home leaves me with almost no time to cook on a daily basis AND spend quality time with G, so I’m trying to make up for that during the weekends. No cookbooks or recipes though, I’m kind of experimenting in my “lab”. Good thing my partner eats EVERYTHING and is the one doing the tasting almost all the time, since I’m too scare of my own concoctions. Have I told you I’m not a good cook? If you’re going to use it as a sauce over meat (it goes great with pork chops) I would suggest dicing the peppers into small square pieces or long thin strips. I pureed mine and ate it with some cheese.

secularism at home

2009-02-20T05:54:00.000-08:00

Can a child be raised in a 100% secular household? That's a question I often ask myself and I guess is something that will only answered as G grows up.

Religion is everywhere, whether we like it or not, it's a big part of who we are, of how we were raised. So far G has not been baptized, circumcised or presented in any church or temple. My partner swears she's going to get him baptized, even when she is a non practicing catholic who despises organized religion. For her it has to do with her culture, a tradition passed from one generation to another, like Christmas (but more boring and without presents). Should I get him circumcised then? Seeing as even my agnostic father had his "Pepito" sniped. (It's a good thing he's no longer alive, since he would have died if he knew I was writing on a public blog about "Pepito").

What about Easter, Christmas, Carnival, Halloween? Should we treat those holidays as a time for fun and not focus on their religious meaning or should we just ignore them altogether? Did my mother had the same questions, or are those questions for our modern times? Religion was not something we talked about at home. Abuela took me to church every Sunday and both my parents gave me presents at Christmas and for the Reyes Magos Day without attaching any kind of religious connotations to them. Did they have the same questions I have now?

I don't want G to miss out on things both my partner and I remember fondly from our childhood, but are we being hypocrites if we “celebrate” those holidays?

As I write this I’ve been told that the costume for Carnaval is a must, so I guess we’ll just decide as we go along.

Gabi says:

2009-02-19T05:39:00.000-08:00

"Vaccines suck!".

We tried calming him down with words like "It hurts us more than it hurts you", but who are we kidding?

I know vaccination works, but is there no other way to get rid of a desease than making al healthy baby sick?

“Why Shlomi, why?”

2009-02-04T12:50:00.000-08:00

Today my heart goes out to Dr. Ezzeldeen Abu al-Aish.

This must be unbearable for any parent, specially for someone who has always talked about peace.

I had hope, but I'm finding it hard to believe that a peaceful resolution will be possible. I don't think Dr. Ezzeldeen will be thinking of peace anymore.

paper or fabric?

2009-01-28T15:53:00.000-08:00

A few months ago, BB (before baby), I took it upon myself to save the planet one bag at a time. A basic plastic bag served as a template for a much better, eco-friendlier version of that disposable classic. I had great plans and good intentions; I just didn’t have the attention span needed to make more than one. And so my small creation that was going to change the way our family went grocery shopping now just hangs there, stuffing its belly with scraps. The tote hanging next to it was made after I found the cross stitched cherry jam my mother had made and never used. I used it a few times, but it has gone into “retirement” and now spends its lazy days guarding some unfinished cross stitch projects.

(As I was finishing this post Amatxu and the baby waltzed (or tangoed) in while Gardel was playing in the background. I SO love my love right now.)

brown and blue

2009-01-23T10:00:00.000-08:00

Contrary of what many may think, my favorite color is not green, it’s brown, deep, dark chocolate brown. So when the time came for us to get ready for the baby, and get our hands into projects induced by two terribly out of synch biological clocks frantically ticking inside an already reckless couple trying to become a family, the first color that came to my mind was, you guessed it, brown.

Compromising on a gender neutral combination was not easy, lime greens , yellows and beige looked good; but a simple purchase made it all clear for us… aqua and brown. Things (or stuff as my partner would call them) were made, and then we had to wait.

“So you’re adopting a boy” everyone said when they laid their eyes on my blue and brown creations. “Not really, actually we’re hoping for a girl”. (Insert here awkward silence and “the look”. You know that look. It’s the look your friend gives you when you order the large fries. It’s the look that says: “You shouldn’t.”). But we were stubborn, blue it was, and my vision of little Eva in a pink free environment, much to the pleasure of my partner, slowly grew on me.

And then we got the call, our baby was ready to come home, and it turned out that our gender neutral vision went out the window the moment they said the baby was a boy; a beautiful, healthy, brown and blue baby boy.

I didn't make the baby...

2009-01-22T16:26:00.000-08:00

...but I did make the quilt.
Back when I had the time and decided to venture in the wonderful world of crafts, I made this quilt. Without having the proper knowledge about quilting, binding, measurements and lacking of a walking foot for my sewing machine. But still it was “my first” and I could never part with it, just like the cutie laying on top of it.

it matters to me

2009-01-22T07:35:00.001-08:00

a little bit of blue amogst all the green

2009-01-09T08:26:00.000-08:00

Our baby boy Gabriel came home to us a few weeks ago. So far there have been no time for crafts, books or paintings, and I'm told that will probably be the case until he goes to college. So I guess I'll become a mommy blogger (or mamá blogger in my case).

it had to be green

2008-12-15T11:57:00.000-08:00

I swear to G.d I didn't cheat.

Your rainbow is shaded green.

What is says about you: You are an intelligent person. You feel strong ties to nature and your mood changes with its cycles. Those around you admire your fresh outlook and vitality.

Find the colors of your rainbow at spacefem.com.

a rant

2008-12-04T06:53:00.000-08:00

Besides the news, there are four tv series that I never miss:

1- Child of Our Time: BBC series with an average of three episodes per year.
2- Lost: haven't seen an episode since the season finale months and months ago.
3- Cuéntame: spanish series scheduled Thursdays nights.
4- Pushing Daisies

So I almost felt like crying when I learned that Pushing Daisies had been cancelled. There's no other show like it on tv right now, the attention to detail, art direction, the performances, specially from miss Kristin Chenoweth and Swoosie Kurtz (I love saying her name Swoosie, Swoosie...).

Are tv executives out of their mind!?!?! What am I supposed to watch now?

I should be celebrating...

2008-11-05T06:26:00.000-08:00

but it's hard to get over the fact that discrimination is alive and well. History was made, but equality must be for all, black, Latino, gay, lesbian, rich, poor.

Today my family was denied it's basic rights.

just because

2008-10-01T10:57:00.000-07:00

I have everything ready for tomorrow's debate. Will it be as funny as the Saturday Night Live sketches? Crossing my fingers.
Thanks to Tina Fey my nephew (14) is now interested in politics, weird.

Yes, I have too much time in my hands.

sad beauty

2008-09-20T05:57:00.000-07:00

Viewing some pics taken in a recent one day trip to the south I was overcome with emotion after seeing first hand the devastation that this hurricane season has caused in the crops. Complete plantain, banana, corn and grape fields are still under water a week after the storms. Thankfully not many lives were lost, as opposed to our neighbors Haiti and Cuba.

is that a duck in my wrist?

2008-09-18T16:57:00.000-07:00

I was able to make my first softy a few days ago. I chose a pretty simple pattern found here and couldn’t be happier with the results. After it was done, it hit me: “What was I going to do with a little duck?”, so I added a blue ribbon to the bottom and some Velcro, and voila, a new pincushion!

the last day

2008-09-14T14:57:00.000-07:00

The Hudson’s version of an Englishmen's club is anything but traditional. Don't let those Haunted Mansion fake books fool you, we are not here to read, we're here to play and this is what we're doing.

There's no doubt about it, the grape Fanta pool table, as I’ll call it, is the centerpiece and “she” knows it (I don’t know why, but with those solid legs and dressed in that color, the table definitely looks like a gallega lady just coming out of mourning). Hanging above “her” is an oversized domelike lamp providing just enough light to showcase this solid purple beauty. Long gone are the days of drunken commoners playing pool at their favorite seedy joint.

But nothing is more suitable for a place that once hosted the Sesame Street studio than the fifteen black and white pictures of coquette cows donning their best Sunday hats. Forget the coffee table books here and there, with those black and white chubby girls who can look at anything else?!?

Champagne flows by the bottle and lively conversation is enhanced by Amir, the always engaging host tending to our every need. It’s a shame that there's no time to visit Mogadore, suggested by our newly acquired friend as the best Moroccan restaurant in the city. But don't worry dear friend, as the now Governor of California once said: "I'll be back".

Warning: If the room temperature is low and you’re only dressed in your underwear, it’s NOT a good idea to sit on the custom made aluminum chair to blog. Hey Phillippe Stark, can you say butt-freeze??

NY day 2

2008-09-13T06:46:00.000-07:00

When I think of Miami I think blue, annoyingly happy acqua blue. When I think of NY I think black, sleek, slimming, deceiving and trendy black.

Fortunately my mother died. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mom, but mourning her has made me feel a little less out of place in this steel mass that houses assembly-line-always-wearing-black people. Suddenly I'm not asked why am I always in black shirts and, unlike Tati, no one has approached me asking me if I'm a tourist.

NY has no sidewalks, it has catwalks. Perfect people gliding by, no sounds coming out of them but still screaming fashion. Is it the way their heads seem to carry an imaginary book? Or is the way their arms barely sway? Who knows! I just know that doing the NY walk is impossible with the hips I have, but that hasn't stopped me from trying.

The Hudson is now my favorite hotel in NY

2008-09-12T12:32:00.000-07:00

So far I'm liking what I see. Starting with the bald Godlike creature greeting us at the door and the ascent to boutique hotel heaven thru escalators suited for a subway.

Check in under the chandelier, holographic light bulbs, as real ones are just too kitsch to have at The Hudson.

An then up to our rooms, up in elevator limbo. Red "EXIT"'s bleeding their lights in the dark barren hallways. Am I being taken to an experiment room behind one of those generic doors? I'm numbered, 972 tattooed in my card (thank God not in my arm). Is this what my future is going to look like? I'm doomed.

An then my door opens, soft heavenly glow filtered thru chiffon barriers. Dark wood, mirror and art as nightlight. The required tiny white formulaic b (as in "boutique") bathroom , clean, crisp. My future looks surprisingly brighter now. Too tired to think I jump to my nest. Soft pillow? Hard pillow? I've entered a world in which those are the toughest decisions I will have to face. And so, as my head hits the hard allergenic pile of mush my eyes adjust to the light I find myself wondering: "What is that popcorn ceiling doing here?!?!"

More later.

in case you're wondering

2008-09-06T05:47:00.000-07:00

I guess I'll have time to do a little crafting. Hey, I'm just trying to find the silver lining here.

warning

2008-09-03T07:30:00.000-07:00

Even though I may seem somewhat sane in my posts, I actually have no idea what I’m doing.

my baby the entrepeneur

2008-08-28T02:19:00.000-07:00

It seems like yesterday that she was born, “Bachata Rosa” sounding everywhere. As soon as I saw her face I fell in love with her. She was my doll to dress up and spoil; that’s what aunts do, isn’t it?

No longer a baby, M is now using her free time to start a little business (when not studying, partying and sleeping). After years of helping her with projects, dioramas, costumes... the time I’ve dreamed about came a few weeks ago, when I was asked to make a logo for her “cookie business” even though most of them end up being consumed before they’re even packaged.

Maybe in 10 years, when Mookies surpasses Oreo sales, I’ll receive a lifetime supply of free cookies!

building a family

2008-08-27T02:12:00.000-07:00

The baby is coming, the baby is coming!! And even the dogs in the Colonial Zone seem to be eagerly waiting for Eva’s arrival.
She’s not coming today, and maybe not for the next few weeks, but there’s a good chance (and that’s an understatement) that by the end of this year a child will have me as a mother.

simple flower tutorial

2008-08-15T16:29:00.000-07:00

Susan from Plush Parade asked me how I made the flowers for my niece’s bag. So this post is for her.

1. Start making the circle, you know the drill.
2. Make a knot at the end to secure it but don’t cut the thread.
3. Thread needle thru the center of the circle from back (the back being the side with the hole) to front, then thread again from back to front. (Repeat depending on how many petals you’ll need).
4. When you have all your petals, the needle will be in the front. Thread back though the center, this time from front to back. Make knot to secure it. Don’t cut the thread.
5. You’ll end up with something like this. Now choose what you’ll put in the middle.
6. Add bead or a few beads, French knots... Secure them and now you can cut the thread.

PD. This is not the cutest flower ever, but had to use contrasting colors for the pics to come out clear.

anything BUT a pack rat

2008-08-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

Sharing an apartment with someone that saves everything (cute little stones, interesting leaves, junk mail that one day might come in handy, EVERYTHING) I feel a need to be the total opposite. Dealing with scraps is especially difficult for me as I don’t always have enough storage space, so I tend to use them regularly, sometimes even more than newly acquired fabric.

A few days ago I decided to play around with some tiny scraps that I knew worked well together, and made three wonky log cabin-ish type squares. Used Photoshop to create a few versions for a baby quilt, and I went with the easiest one I could come up with (hey I’m just learning as I go along). I think I have enough fabric to make nine more wonky squares. Hope it turns out better that the blue cheese quilt I made last year.

U is for Uganda / C is for Caribbean

2008-08-14T09:50:00.000-07:00

They sit close together in my bedroom, almost touching each other. Forget lunchboxes or bentos, this woven wonder is what farm workers use in Uganda to carry their food. It was a gift given to us by a friend that spent months there volunteering for a non profit.

Each time I see it I’m reminded of the night it came to be ours, a perfect night of chipirones and wine, new friends that opened their home to me, stories and laughter. I see the farmer, saying goodbye to his family before going to work at the fields, carrying “little blue” with his simple meal inside. I see the wife, the same hands used to weave now kead the perfect balls that will feed them.

And then my thoughs go to the seashell bowl, with little pieces from our travels through the island, and specially from Miches and fishermen sailing the waters to feed their families. Although we are far, we are the same.

heirlooms and leftovers

2008-08-12T05:38:00.001-07:00

As we always say, we only have two seasons here in the Caribbean: Summer and Hell; this time of year being Hell. Sunday was especially hot, causing a kind of heat induced stupor in us. Cooking in front of a stove was an impossible task, and so we went the pasta salad route for lunch.

To make up for our lack of domestic inspiration I decided to do the unthinkable: use one of my grandmother’s crystal bowls. Having heard during all my childhood not to touch them; using one for the first time almost made me feel guilty. Don’t worry abuela, I’ll take good care of them.

little boy, little shoes

2008-08-10T06:13:00.000-07:00

A few months ago I saw this great tutorial and bookmarked it. I finally got around to making them and gave them to my little nephew as a gift the day he turned two months; but it was a little late, as it turns out they were too small for him. No biggy though, enlarged the pattern to 125% and they fit just fine.
The little french knot sheep inspired by incy.wincy.

playing with wordle

2008-07-16T08:29:00.000-07:00

beads

2008-05-23T05:37:00.000-07:00

I’m a sucker for Peruvian crafts and their colors, geometric shapes, their tapestries and specially their retablos with nativity scenes. They remind me of sleepovers at a friend’s house, but more importantly, they remind me of her mother, a woman that touched many lives.

These are beads I bought from a Peruvian lady at a craft fair. They will adorn some bookmarks I’m planning to make. The cholito is not a bead, but I just HAD to have it.

chez andrea

2008-05-21T05:35:00.000-07:00

Gave my first try at piecing this weekend, I was inspired by a book I bought for my niece and since she’s the “girliest” of girls there was no better way to wrap it up than with a flowery tote. I first drew what I wanted in freehand and then gave it a try piecing it. It didn’t turn out exactly the way I planned it, but Andrea seemed to love it.

little sailor bear sailed away

2008-05-16T17:43:00.000-07:00

I’m really happy about the way this pillow turned out. I wasn’t specially enthusiastic when I decided to do it, seeing as I’m a little tired of cross stitching, but since every time one of my cousins had their babies I’ve always given them something x-stitched with the baby’s name on it, I HAD to do it.

The best thing was that I had everything I needed right here: thread, fabrics, everything. I couldn’t believe how great it feels starting a craft and not having to put in on hold just because you lack one thread. A first for me.

Salinas

2008-05-11T16:34:00.000-07:00

We spent Saturday at a little town called Salinas while our friend windsurfed. We took shelter from the sun at what I thought was an abandoned house; it turned out to be the office for the local salt mine across the street that gives the town its name.

sad faced bear

2008-05-07T05:38:00.000-07:00

This will be my last cross stitch project for a long time, I swear. I just couldn’t resist making “him” for a nephew that’ll be born this month.

burgos

2008-05-02T05:48:00.000-07:00

My favorite Burgos pic has nothing to do with gothic cathedrals, green parks surrounding a river, world famous embutidos and such. My favorite picture was not even taken with a camera, just with a phone as we took 5 minutes to rest the Spanish way, with a coffee and a piece of tortilla (omelet).
As we parked our vehicles it hit me: old and new, a great past and a hopeful future.

building my own house

2008-05-01T18:04:00.000-07:00

It's always more fun to work with glue than with a hammer and nails.
A little too victorian for my taste, but it was a steal at $1.25. Who said the economy was in bad shape?

lazy sunday afternoon

2008-04-29T05:27:00.000-07:00

I forgot how much home life changes when you have a puppy. We wished for a lazy Sunday afternoon, sitting on the balcony floor, exploring books, sipping juice. But we underestimated the power of annoyance of a six pound puppy. Just 23 minutes after we sat and took our first sip of that wonderful carrot and passion fruit concoction (believe me I hate carrots… but this was delicious) juice was all over us, the books and pillows; and the half eaten cupcakes along with their paper cups had disappeared in the jaws of our little troll.

Case 2: Solved!

2008-04-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

Not only did the itchy topiary pillow finally fulfilled its reason for being created, but it found a loving home far away from me!

little hungry anarchist

2008-04-23T17:25:00.000-07:00

My dear friend is the proud owner of a purse tissue holder… I asked her to loan it to me, and now the time has come for it to go back home… with a little friend in tow.
It was my first attempt at embroidering something that was not formed by x’s and my first try at appliquéing.

MMD, step 1

2008-04-22T11:26:00.000-07:00

I´m putting the virtual pieces together for my first quilt. Each color is a different fabric. Basic squares combined in freehand. Should the seam allowance be 1/4 inch? I´ll need to browse some quilting blogs to figure out details like that. Wish me luck.

a whole new direction

2008-04-17T17:52:00.000-07:00

I’m going to take a break from cross stitching after I finish my latest wip. Can’t wait until I’m ready to start making new things, which is not going to be easy since... I don’t know how to sew, the sewing machine was my mother’s. Stitching the project below took weeks, but quilting and binding it only took a few hours, I’m all for instant gratification.

a promise fulfilled

2008-04-16T08:19:00.000-07:00

I didn’t know she was losing her sight, so when I found a project she had been working in a drawer, unfinished, I had to ask.
“Can you finish it for me?” was her plea.
“You’ll finish it once you get better” was my lie.
Even though it was clearly meant for someone else, as the future recipient’s name was already embroidered in the piece, I couldn’t part with it. Knotty, crooked, to other’s a bad cross stitch work, to me a reflection of her tenacity.
A replacement, a duplicate started from 0. Was it cheating?

Sad in so many levels

2008-04-16T08:18:00.000-07:00

They both jumped into the marriage for ulterior reasons and now the cat´s out of the bag. “All that shines it´s not gold”. Trophy wives better beware.

all gargoyles point to heaven

2008-03-25T06:58:00.000-07:00

Walking around the Colonial Zone we found this little treasure, 26 gargoyles just “sitting” there.

scale model

2008-03-23T04:49:00.001-07:00

Sorting pics I came around this scale model made by under privileged children in one of the poorest areas of the city. It depicts their neighborhood in such a whimsical way that it almost makes you forget their precarious surroundings.

Cold Case 2: The case of the itchy topiary

2008-03-22T06:31:00.000-07:00

Victim: Needlepoint Topiarius
Born: 1998-1999 approx.
Known facts: Subject was abandoned after its caretaker suffered a severe wool related rash. It being the second topiary found in such a short amount of time is making us look into the possibility of a serial case. No visible wounds. Further examination required. Surgical gloves are a must.

Case 1: Solved!

2008-03-21T08:36:00.000-07:00

I'm taking it today to my aunt's, I hope she likes it.

Juan Sebastian Elcano (the ship)

2008-03-21T07:07:00.001-07:00

Recently while driving through the Avenida del Puerto we were surprised to see the ship in the Santo Domingo Port. Having a Spaniard in the car with us, we HAD to pull over. She was amazed, as it is a well loved icon for Spanish history, that the first time she was able to see it was in a port so far from home.

For those who don’t know, the ship is the third largest tall ship in the world, and it serves a as school ship. (you know, were the future king of Spain trained and everything).

Cold Case 1: The case of the comatose topiary.

2008-03-16T06:28:00.001-07:00

I have A TON of works in project. Some of them are only days old, but most of them have been sitting around for years. I’m going to try to finish them before I start any more crafts. (yeah, right)

Victim: Corny Topiary Doe
Born: Around 2002
Known facts: Subject entered a deep coma after being stabbed with a rusty needle on 2003 and has never regain consciousness although attempts to “bring her back” were perform in 2005.

rules rule!

2008-03-15T09:14:00.001-07:00

After a year of working non-stop for 24/7 I decided to have weekends for myself and not read any work related emails. My clients know about it, and I have to say, for the most part (there have been two little urgent things), they have been very understanding. I guess that having rules is not bad at all.

I don't know if I should laugh or cry

2008-03-13T06:35:00.000-07:00

more Biarritz please

2008-03-12T08:56:00.000-07:00

It was cold, not crowded, quiet, lots of Chloe, Fendi, Lalique… But I felt at home.
If I loved it at winter, I can’t wait to see it at summertime.

I had forgotten...

2008-03-09T05:53:00.000-07:00

...how sweet puppy breath can be.

musings

2008-02-26T08:44:00.000-08:00

Went to an exhibit yesterday, it seems that I’m back on track.

Much more fit, my trip to the Netherlands is now closer.

For now is just work here at home, which I love, so I’m not complaining.

Just needed to write all this down to remind myself how lucky I am.

a big aaaarrrrggg!!!!!

2007-12-05T14:31:00.000-08:00

There's a difference between trying to do the right thing… and actually doing it.
Lately I've been putting extra effort on doing what's right because I REALLY want to do it… not just because I have to, but it seems that no matter what I do, it's never good enough.
I can't DO more, but I'm not quitting… I'll keep trying, even when others make it almost impossible. I need to remember I do it FOR ME, not for them.

thanks

2007-11-21T06:50:00.000-08:00

Thanks, because she was there with me when I came to life, and I was there for her when she departed.

Thanks for the little puppy that came to be my best friend as he never left my side during dark days, and left his shattered body with the peace he deserved.

Thanks for my hands and sight, as I’m able to make a living with those tools.

Thanks for those sad days that make me value the bright ones.

Thanks for my friends, near, far or long gone, each one of them has given me precious nonmaterial gifts that have filled my life.

Thanks for knowing that, as imperfect as I am, your love for me is perfect.

Thanks for the hope that I still carry, even when all has been lost.

Thanks for the aches and pains, because they help me remember that I’m still alive.

why ravioli? why green?

2007-11-09T07:22:00.000-08:00

My mother was known by all to be a foodie. When it came to conquering her Everest, a lack of an ingredient was not going to stop her!

Like all great masters, her food evolved as she did. Picasso had a blue period, Nené had a pasta period. And just like the tiny Spaniard with a talent bigger than him… her creations where sometimes too much for the common people to grasp… or eat.

Pasta had to be made from scratch, real Italian chefs don't use Buitoni. Noodles, gnocchi, lasagna all went through her miracle maker machine, sometimes too thick, others just perfect. And so it came the inevitable, we all knew we had it coming, it was time to make raviolis.

With the steady hand a painters acquire after drawing fifty pair of eyes in a single sitting, my mother delivered the pasta in record time, smooth, perfect; but then she realized that her eagerness for starting her new culinary project had overshadowed one little fact… there was nothing to stuff those tiny pillows with.

I, like every time she went into one of her creative spells in the kitchen, was too afraid to even show my head in her domain, mainly because the unspoken treat of having me wash the dishes; so I tried to make myself invisible, and left her alone on her search for the perfect stuffing.

I should have helped her, I knew she struggled with the Tupperware, jars and “a date is only a number” leftover food in the refrigerator. But I was too afraid, anyone that has been in her kitchen in the middle of one of her projects knows that all math logic was cast aside when it came to food… in fact secretly awaiting for a call from some Nobel wining mathematician inquiring about the fourteen dirty pots for a five ingredient recipe “mystery” we had in 2004.

And so, when she called me to dinner, the guilt left no other choice, I had to sit down with her, and be the first human subject to try her new concoction. As any one that has gone willingly to the guillotine, I walked to that table with fear so big it gave me a rigid expression that could have mistakenly been confused with pride. I got to the chair as my knees buckled, just in time to save my butt from hitting the floor. And then I waited.

One plate was put in front of me, the other accompanied her to her side of the table, and with it in front of her she proudly stared at me waiting for that first taste like a kid who knows that his all A score card is coming. The smell was intoxicating, béchamel with a little bit of nutmeg (yes, nutmeg), who knew, maybe this was going to be a pleasant experience after all. And so I proceeded to “dissect” the first little sucker, searching for the mysteries guarded under that pasta belly. With a swift stroke one ravioli had now become two, showing unceremoniously a greenish/blue color of what my mother confirmed after looking at my puzzled stare: “Blue cheese!”.

I did not remember having any blue cheese in the house, but she was resourceful, so I happily dug in as my fears evaporated and took that first bite. But oh, the horror… she had mastered the fine art of packing a filthy stable, smell and all, into a 1.5 inch square, and now she was waiting for my nod of approval to have her taste of It's-Royal-Nastiness,-the-Crowned-Prince-of-Ravioli-Hell. What could a good daughter do?!?! And so I gave her whilst trying to swallow that thing without it touching my tongue one more time.

She was happy, pleased, and so she dug in. For a slip second I was hopeful, maybe she wouldn't notice and her feelings will be spared, but I thought to soon. My grandma's words “You can cheat others, but not yourself” came to mind as Nené graciously took her napkin and to spit that Italian-Dominican cyanide.

And then a scream… “Damn nutmeg!”. She took both our plates back to the kitchen as I followed trying to comfort her. I took a chance, I knew I was just a finger painter talking to DaVinci, but I said: “I don't think it's the nutmeg". She turned her back to me, incredulous, everything was perfect, it had to be that tiny spec of nut dust; and quietly threw away the hard “food” of her labour.

I turned around heading for the dinning room, and just as I was about to leave I saw it… sitting there, amongst the flour dust and leftover dough was an empty wooden Camembert container, and it all became clear. “Mom” I said “Are you SURE we had blue cheese?”. With that words the Devil awaked, how dare I, a single mortal, question her!. “It's just that… err” I stumbled “Was the cheese you used blue or green?”. It took a few seconds, but I think she got it also, because the first words out of her mouth were: “Mamita (endearing term she used with me only when she had done something wrong), can you please bring me my glasses?”.

And so, as she carefully inspected that round wood box she realize that overdue greenish Camembert, although it might look the part, could never be Blue Cheese.

mom

2007-11-06T13:47:00.000-08:00

I think I'm letting you go.
No more nightmares about you every night.
No more cries in the dark.

Could it be my Canadian souvenir
is working it's magic?
Or is it that you and I have finally made peace?

adoption

2007-10-26T07:55:00.000-07:00

For many, adoption comes as a last resource;
for me is my first option.

Others try to get pregnant,
I try to find my child born from another woman’s seed.

They eagerly await 9 months to hold their little treasures;
I have no due date, but I wait the same as them.

And while others try to predict whose eyes will he/she have;
I'm happy knowing that no matter what he/she looks like,
he/she will be beautiful, because he/she will be mine.

a drop

2007-10-18T07:43:00.001-07:00

Lately I have not been very creative. The though of beauty born from amongst the chaos has been banging my head. I guess I was in a “winter-y” state, cold and barren, but it’s time to flourish. So a new “project” has begun, a little drop given in exchange for a future.

green survivor

2007-06-22T11:22:00.000-07:00

After a weekend at the beach I came home to a dying plant. I never realized she was like me, an indoor gal. Now she sits in my studio, she's loved and comfy in her new spot, but most importantly, she's alive.

fabric

2007-06-21T06:34:00.000-07:00

As you can see by my pink stash… finding lots of fun cotton fabric in a little island can prove challenging. Rows and rows of low quality polyester mixed textiles line the stores creating visual chaos only heighten by the sounds of bachata blasted from loudspeakers. So is no surprise that when my good friend V asked me what I wanted her to bring me, I said: “Cotton fabric!! Any print, any color” and proceeded to explain what a fat quarter was (here only “thin quarters” are sold).

I know that in our modern times of globalization, free trade and mass producing, you can get an shirt for 100 pesos (less than US$4)… Chinese or Indian made, of course!!! The demand has decreased and the offer has pretty much disappeared, and that leaves us crafters in “fat quarter limbo”.

Oh well, let me just step down from my soapbox while asking “Why do the high end fabric stores only carry upholstery fabrics!?!?... you try binding a quilt made with thick heavy canvas like textile!!!”

christmas in June

2007-06-20T06:05:00.000-07:00

It's only June, but Christmas has been on my mind for a few days now, I dontt know why, maybe is because I'm looking for something to cheer me up. So I'm starting a list of things I'll be doing this year:
•Tree skirt
•Tree top
•Ornaments
•Christmas banner

I'll be tackling these in between other projects as I haven't decided between a Japanese themed or a country bear tree this year. I need to find some ideas.

inheritance…

2007-06-19T15:50:00.000-07:00

Leftover fabric found amongst my mother’s belongings now have new life.

green friday

2007-06-08T09:52:00.001-07:00

Tomatoes, garlic and basil living together in my container garden.

In return

2007-06-08T09:47:00.000-07:00

The homemade pizza Blanca Saturday sent is now long gone. As my mother used to say: “ When someone brings you food, the container shouldn’t be returned empty”... And since I can’t cook to save my life, and the tray was sitting in my kitchen counter asking to be taken back home, I made this little something. A red dot is missing… but at least the tray is gone!!

blu fromage

2007-05-04T08:20:00.000-07:00

My first attempt at sewing.