Summer projects, part 2: The sequel to "The Cake Topper" and other related incidents

Speaking of projects, I really should be packing up my room right now, getting ready for the annual Summer Transition. BUT, I thought a follow-up about The Cake Topper project might be in order. In short, it turned out beautifully, and it was such a pleasure to be able to add to the wedding in that way. There is, however, a back story to The Cake Topper which I just cannot leave untold, and it is directly related to a second project, which is The Floral Arrangements. The reason why I ended up topping the cake was because I and two of my other housemates were recruited to design all the flower arrangements for the tables, as well as corsages and the cake. Now, if there's any part of a wedding that I would like to be involved in, it's with the flowers, so I didn't need much coaxing. Mainly the bride wanted wild flowers, and the original idea was just to go to a U-pick joint, glean some blooms, put the unruly bundles into mason jars, and ta-da! Our beatific vision was, ah, altered, however, as I will relate.

The Scheme: U-pick was ruled out for various reasons. Sooooo, we figured, if we want wild flowers, we'll search for them in the wild! Honestly, it's Eugene, with plenty of parks and nooks in which to find a little flower-power...can't be too hard...right?

First Proceedings: Molly and I ventured out of the house Friday morning, each with a pair of shears and one big bucket, hoping to pinch a little here and a little there from our neighbors' yards. Yes, we pretty much resorted to theft on the first go. Make of it what you will. It was just such a bleak beginning, a seemingly downward spiral: DIY ain't what it's cracked up to be...so much for 'simple'...we have no purveyor of florals...what else is left, but to scrounge it up out of the bare earth? Wait a minute, neighbor M.'s flowers look mighty nice...he wouldn't mind just a few clippings...and thieves are born.
Nah. We decided instead to find some obliging fields. We weren't that sneaky anyways. Let me say about my fellow adventurer: she is thoughtful and organized in ways that I am not, and she took up the endeavor graciously when I probably would have been too boggled to know where to begin. That doesn't mean that our first attempt with field flowers was that promising. A bland setting to boot, but we were determined. Molly began snipping some tangly purple things, and I turned my attention rather wearily to foliage. You should have seen the look of despair she gave me when I showed her some (I thought) rather lovely pink grasses. (Misunderstanding No. 1. Apparently she thought I was referring to the brown grasses, which were dismal indeed). That was cleared up, and we felt more encouraged. And then...

Daisies! And then we saw the daisy field, on the other side of the tangly-purple-thing-pink-grass field. "Gasp!!! DAISIES!!!!" We were ecstatic over them. Needless to say, we gathered a lot of daisies. This was a much happier prospect, brightened further by the little purple flowers (they looked sort of like giant raspberries) tucked throughout. Things were looking up!

Some Manoeuvres: After we settled the daisy-crazy buckets in our house, Molly suggested that we run by Trader Joe's for some corsage flowers (and treats), and to do some further scouting on the way. We were still feeling desperate, but rather plucky after our first successes. So we figured, why not go out on a median on a very busy street and clip some of the flowers there? And there we were, like nobody's business. I could just imagine my mom catching a glimpse in some newspaper "week in snapshots" thing, on the off chance we were caught on camera (that or some wanted delinquent section. The city of Eugene can take their pick). We didn't stick around (it was a slim median), but found further triumph pruning hydrangeas (and hydrangeas and hydrangeas...lots of hydrangeas) for the benefit of some office buildings. That's how we explained it to ourselves. On top of it, we found the lovliest purple lisianthus at TJ's. We knew we were in business.

A Good Day's Work: We brought our spoils home, and got to work. Our other counterpart provided some fragrant chamomile and lemon balm, and together we constructed arrangements charming enough to grace any shabby chic or DIY magazine. We were all just floored by how everything, the whole endeavor, just fell into place. And glory to God. Really, we had a splendid time, and had the great gift of being able to laugh even at the very worst (for instance, while we were gazing resolutely upon the pink grasses and purple tanglies, there was a summer parks and recreation deal going on in the form of a Quidditch match. For real. Our serious picking was cheered by the image of kids playing soccer with brooms between their legs, and I honestly don't know how it could have been otherwise). Even more, it was one of those instances in which the labor really is its own reward. We had such fun, were delighted with the fruit of our work, and had the added pleasure of giving it as a gift to our friends' marriage.

The only possible dowside to this whole business is that I can't even see a weed or a tuft of grass without considering its potential for floral decor.

Yours, considering a career in floristry, etc.

Summer projects, part 1: The Cake Topper

I am not a project-oriented person. I would like to be, but when I try it usually goes awry due to my lack of focus. For instance: the half-skirt I started sewing last summer; the piano books that are collecting dust; and the watercolor paints that I bought with Christmas money...well, I HAVE used them. Maybe, since I'm not project-driven by nature, it's unrealistic to imagine that I could do all these things on top of school. Some people are projecty, and I can't force myself to fit that.

So, this is something that I struggle with, but enough for confession. It's SUMMER now, and the task at hand is to start work on my senior thesis (weird, right? I should still be a freshman writing an obscure blog about my little experiences during college. Oh wait). So I thought, while I'm reading all kinds of fun stuff by Dostoevsky and Camus, I should balance that out with some of the things I have to put on hold while in school. And, I'll work on investing in those things, on actually valuing the time necessary to do them well. Optimism, they cried, Optimism!

This morning, with the sun streaming into my east-facing windows, my first project is to make-over a dress which needs a little help. Then I remember The Cake Topper. I have a dear friend getting married on Saturday, and she asked if I would construct a cake topper for her topsy-turvey cake using peacock feathers. Hurrah! An Alice-in-Wonderland-esque cake with peacock feathers! I'm thrilled, because Alice and peacocks (and cake) are some of my beloved things, but I must say I panicked a little this morning. A cake topper...should it be flat, or stick up a little...ack, everyone's going to see it...I haven't even met this cake yet...egad, am I really going to be haunted by a cake topper? Google!

Where would this world go, if it wasn't for Google? I've been browsing through fun websites looking for inspiration, and I've found some, along with little amusements that set me at ease. There are all kinds of bride&groom figurines, among them penguins, sock monkeys, and my personal favorite, bride and groom moose. That's right, moose. If people are allowed to make moose cake toppers, I'm sure I'll be fine.

Yours: senior, aspiring cake-decorator (and a lot of other things), etc.

In which I get to be James Herriot

It's fortunate that I've watched so many episodes of "All Creatures Great and Small", because on Tuesday the kids I babysit suggested, for the first time, that we play veterinarian. Here I make two clarifying notes:
~For those who were wondering, I still have the great amusement of playing nanny to Indigo, Raina, and now little brother Aiden, who are five, three, and one-and-a-half, respectively. The saga continues, ta-TUM! with plenty of verve and imagination. And they equate me with Mary Poppins.
~"All Creatures Great and Small" is a 1970s BBC television series based on James Herriot's books. Sound quaint? Nothing could be quainter. I find it delightful.

To resume.
We set up out veterinary practice on the kitchen counter, where I administered shots and checkups and surgeries and prescriptions to all kinds of stuffed bunnies, kittens, turtles, little pink hippos. I dealt mainly with cases of vomiting (kids seem to have the most empirical experience with this one), but it never ceases to amaze me how a simple scenario like giving a kitten its yearly kitty checkup can become an epic involving a snarly gang of purple cats terrorizing our patients. (The whole time I was imagining purple cats wandering around the Yorkshire Dales). We had patients coming in who had been scratched by the purple cats and therefore had contracted an infection that created purple spots on the victim. We ended up serving as sanctuary to a whole swampful of ducks which were ambushed. Eventually, we were able to subdue this rough crowd, and saved many lives with purple cat shots.

As I've learned from Dr. Herriot, it's all in a day's work for the local vet.

Yours: nanny, vet, fan of quaint British tv, etc.