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Daddy and Roman take in Central Park. We sorta forgot his coat, so he is wearing about 32 sweaters. Oh the cuteness. Where are those two..... Photographic evidence of me not letting go of the girl (except for bathroom breaks and eating). And now Nicolas can say he skated in Central Park. This should really be a video, but I didn't think that fast. I don't know what you call what he's doing here but he landed it. Some sorta jump twist the board in the air thing then landing on the board. I really need to work on my action shot skills. And my skate term skills. And lots of other skills, but I'm trying to keep this post brief. My 6 and my brother's 4 (mostly in the front there). Roman is being held up by a hiding Daddy, which may explain that "hhhheeeyyyyy!!!!" look on his face. I can't explain the look on Nicolas's face except pointing out that its Nicolas. And a quick blur of the gorgeousness that is New York at night during the holidays....

Whenever I prepare for the holidays, I always think of my American grandmother, Anna Ruth Coble. Her twinkle, her cleverness, her endless work at the kitchen counter, her pies, her potatoes, her laugh, her smile. Several years ago when I was about to cook my first official Thanksgiving turkey in my own home, I thought of this smock-style apron that she always seems to be wearing in my mind's eye. She made it for herself, a fact alone that I adore. It was given to me after she died because we share the same name, and if I had ever thought to ask for just one thing from her home, it would have been this. I knew I had it tucked somewhere, but I almost never wore it so it wasn't at hand. I think I spent so many years with babies spitting and pooping on me that I never gave much thought to kitchen messes. But cooking a turkey was different, I needed her apron. I couldn't find it. I tore the house apart. I realized that I hadn't seen it, perhaps, since before we m...

figure eight scarf I (possibly like you) have been counting the moments for all of my velveteen fabrics to arrive. And just like introducing the voiles through a little write-up earlier this year where I professed my love and offered my experiences with them, I thought it would be nice to welcome the velveteens in a similar way. Just like the voiles, I think that once you have the chance to touch these velveteens, that no one would really have to warm you up to the idea of bringing a little bit home. But in case you have questions, I thought I would jump ahead with some answers. Velveteen Velveteen has in some instances been thought of as a substitute of sorts for velvet, or even a lower priced imitation of velvet. In their most typical formats, there is an inherent difference between the two fabrics. Velvet, traditionally, was woven as two cloths weaving at the same time, continually connected by threads that would then be cut to separate the two cloths from each other, leaving...

The simple fact that it has taken me precisely 2 weeks and 2 days to share my Quilt Market experience speaks volumes about what went into it, what it was, what it wasn't and how much time it takes to recover. I know that I am not really sharing photos that you haven't already seen elsewhere (provided you're into that sorta thing), in fact many of these aren't even my photos, but borrowed from my pal April ( thank you! ). This year I was so happy to have my mama join me for the first time. I mention this because I always like starting with the good news. Having her with me was definitely the goods news. It is more typical for her to be at home caring for the kids while we (Jeff and a rotating group of employees) are working the booth trip. Fall market always falls near Joseph's birthday. I can typically be back home just in time to celebrate with him on the actual day, or pretty close. But this time it fell smack dab in the middle. This fact, plus wanting my...

I talked a lot. I had so much to say. I simply could not manage to wait until the appropriate time to say it. Poor Mrs. Taylor. This week was not what I expected. I traveled home to mourn the loss of a dear man, the father of a very special family, whom I've adored since early childhood. But it was one of those perfect funerals, if there is such a thing, where there was as much sadness for the loss as there was celebration for the life. With that celebration came the reminiscing, the stories, laughter and memories of a life that could not have been improved and one that I am thankful to share some history with. Sitting at a luncheon after the funeral, talking to my mom and some of the family members, she brought up something that I had no recollection of from second grade. The conversation had led to the size of my family (as it often does) and she told me that my second grade teacher predicted that I would either be a teacher or have a huge family. After a little back and ...

As much fun as it was arranging these (few of many) pillows into my Quilt Market booth , the idea of settling in enough back at home to decide where they really belong in my real house is just plain luscious. I'll be doing some of that along with cleaning, organizing, cuddling and hopefully some nothing too. Missed you! back here next week~ xoxox, Anna (speaking of home, the new decor cottons are in! hooray!)