O is for Origami

Origami. From the combination of two Japanese words, Ori, meaning fold and Kami, meaning paper.

Folding perfectly square pieces of paper, lining up the edges and corners just so... it’s the perfect meditative activity for when you need to unwind.

And the crane! Oh the crane! The classic origami crane. I love this explanation of its signifigance:

“In Japan, the crane is a mystical creature and is believed to live for a thousand years.  As a result, in the Japanese, Chinese and Korean culture, the crane represents good fortune and longevity. The Japanese refer to the crane as the “bird of happiness”.  The wings of the crane were believed to carry souls up to paradise. Traditionally, it was believed that if one folded 1000 origami cranes, one’s wish would come true.  It has also become a symbol of hope and healing during challenging times.  As a result, it has become popular to fold 1000 cranes (in Japanese, called “senbazuru”)." Source here.

While I didn’t quite reach 1,000... I certainly found hope and comfort in folding these little guys. I highly recommend it if you are in need of a little TLC!

And, as we established back at the letter M, I do love a good theme. So let me start this photo gallery with... a haiku: :)

K is for Kite

kite, nounˈkīt:

A light frame covered with paper, cloth, or plastic, often provided with a stabilizing tail, and designed to be flown in the air at the end of a long string.

Behold, the visual story of how I went from zero to KITE in a matter of hours...

A special thanks to my kite making crew/family members on this one, especially my niece Stella. Go fly a kite, guys!

J is for Jewelry/Japan

It happened again. I went to get a necklace from my travel jewelry case (a.k.a coin purse) only to find the chain in a tangled mess, so entwined with his friend that it appeared they had melted together. While some may say that untangling a pair of knotted silver chains is meditational, I’d rather not spend forty-five minutes of every trip dealing with jewelry! Sheesh.

Solution:

You might remember that I’ve already discussed how I LOVE to make cases for things. LOVE it. So, my latest endeavor is this little jewelry case with fabric my mom got on a recent teaching trip to Japan. Such beautiful colors, designs and textures. The case can hang from the wall, and then roll up like a burrito. Inside, there’s a hook and pocket for necklaces (so they don't tangle!), and not one but TWO zipper pouches for earrings, rings, etc.

A little shout out to my dear friend Lorien. She makes, among other beautiful works of art, gorgeous jewelry. She made the bridesmaid's necklaces and earrings for my sister's wedding, and countless pairs of earrings, bracelets and necklaces that I (and others worldwide) still wear to this day, and will ALWAYS be found in my travel bag! And if you like the little pink earrings below, you should check out her stuff here, here, oh and here too.

Here's the little Japanese burrito case:

Machine appliqué in action.

Rubi was sort of interested in what I was doing.

Hanging out:

The other zipper pouch is hiding behind the first one!

Roll her on up!Now, if only I could use this for an actual TRIP TO JAPAN!

I is for Ice Cream

Number of bowls of ice cream eaten in my life: more than 1,000Number of years worked as a professional ice cream scooper: 4 Number of countries in which bowls of ice cream were eaten: more than 4, less than 20. Number of times made ice cream myself: 0

These statistics are skewed! It was time to change that big fat ZERO. I have happily admired, eaten and served ice cream for years without ever trying to make it myself. That's crazy. I don't know if any of you have ever tried to make ice cream, but I can now put myself among the elite. And I have two words to describe the experience: WOW, and YUM.

At home in Ann Arbor with my folks, we spent a lot of time this weekend watching Wimbledon and making things. I had found this recipe in the July Real Simple magazine, and was really excited to make my favorite ice cream flavor: Mint chip.

The ingredients are "real simple:"

2 bunches fresh mint

1 cup whole milk

1 cup sugar

2 cups heavy cream

6 large egg yolks

4 ounces semisweet chocolate

The mint leaves I found were definitely spearmint, and they reminded me of the tea we drank in Morocco, the kind that isn't really tea, it's just mint leaves and sugar.  The recipe called for two "bunches” and since who knows what THAT means, what I included could very well have been 4 bunches, or even 8! It was MINTY.

First step: The MINT.

What a beautiful bowl of mint!

Not quite as attractive after it takes a sauna with whole milk and heavy cream...

Second step: The CUSTARD.

It was at this point that I realized: Green ice cream can be naturally green in color! This was 100% natural green color.

This part was highly labor intensive. Thankfully, I had two sous chefs.

Third step: CHURN, baby CHURN.

Oh, this is the fun part... The Kitchenaid mixer doesn't have a lid so you can watch the show.

Fourth step: The CHOCOLATE. And a little nod to San Francisco!

Fifth step: The EATING.

Even Mabel enjoyed the mint...

Ooh my. If I had to give this ice cream a name, it would be Moroccan Mint Chip. You're transported to Marrakech with each bite. Exotic, calming, delicious.

And it will always remind me of tennis.

H is for Hands

What’s the first thing you think of when you think 4th of July?

No, not fireworks...

Not grilling...

It’s natural beauty products, duh! On the 4th of July here in Michigan, we had a discussion about this very topic. My mom and aunt were talking about how my grandma used to go to this place called Merle Norman because (pre-Clinique) they had the only hypoallergenic makeup around. Even nowadays, the search for makeup that doesn’t irritate our skin still endures, and we spend a lot of time talking about chemicals in what we use.

Not to get on a (natural, chemical-free) soap box or anything, but I was doing some fancy “internet research” about the topic, and I couldn’t get the image of us essentially rubbing lighter fluid all over our faces, arms and legs. Using natural products makes a lot of sense to me, really. When I stopped using a face cream with chemicals, I no longer felt a burning, tingling sensation every time I put it on. Now, I don’t know a lot about biology or chemistry, but that has got to be a good thing.

ANYWAY.

Back to the fun part! I have been longing to try this Creativebug homemade apothecary tutorial by Amy Karol from Angry Chicken for months. And in the intro to the lip balm section, Amy speaks my soap box-y mind. She says, “You use it next to your mouth, so you want to know what’s in it... because you’re kind of eating it.”

The ingredients are so simple, and so delicious: Cocoa butter, shea butter, sunflower oil, vitamin E, and an essential oil for scent. I used tangerine, and a bit of lavender for some of the hand creams. The mixture of the scents of shea butter, cocoa butter and tangerine is quite delightful! And, it is SUPER easy to buy empty lip balm tubes (I did not know that a week ago) and violà... Homemade lip balm.

So please enjoy the making of his "handy" little cream!

G is for Granola

I’ll just start by saying that the adjective “granola” was a mystery to me. I had heard the words “crunchy” and “hippy” before, mostly to describe the Haight street dwellers (as well as Californians in general) but had never myself understood using granola to describe people. If you look up the definition of “granola” in the Urban Dictionary, you get the following humorously long-winded response:

“An adjective used to describe people who are environmentally aware (flower child, tree-hugger), open-minded, left-winged, socially aware and active, queer or queer-positive, anti-oppressive/discriminatory (racial, sexual, gender, class, age, etc.) with an organic and natural emphasis on living, who will usually refrain from consuming or using anything containing animals and animal by-products (for health and/or environmental reasons), as well as limit consumption of what he or she does consume, as granola people are usually concerned about wasting resources. Usually buy only fair-trade goods and refrain from buying from large corporations, as most exploit the environment as well as their workers, which goes against granola core values. This definition is sometimes confused with hippy.”

Oh my God, they just described most people I know. With the exception of the “animal and animal by-product” part, and since they also added the qualifier “usually,” (thanks for that, by the way, nobody’s perfect,) they also just described me!

I am [usually] granola!

Yes! And what better way to celebrate one’s granola-ness than a Granola Gathering in Golden Gate Park on Pride weekend in San Francisco. Boom.

You’ve heard of a wine “tasting” or a coffee “cupping.” Well, what we had was a granola “bowling.” Four bowls, four recipes*, four gals who like to gab.

*You’ll find links to all four recipes below, with comments describing each one, followed by some glorious photos.

1. Smitten Kitchen: Big Cluster Maple Granola (From the Smitten Kitchen Cookbook by Deb Perelman)

I have been making this recipe for months, and I cannot get enough. Her magic touch of an egg white creates chunky clusters if you let it cool completely. It's simple, yet the coconut and maple add a little pizzaz. The girls described it as a great “everyday” granola.

2. Iowa Girl Eats: Maple Almond Granola

Holy crap. This granola was hands down our favorite. The only thing I changed about this recipe was that I added a whipped egg white right before baking it, a là Deb Perelman. It worked like a charm. The girls decided this one “tasted like a bakery.” I think it was the vanilla and almond extract that gave it that flair. It tasted like heaven.

3. Emily Levenson: Peanut Butter + Honey Granola

I HAD to try a PB granola. And this one did not disappoint. I substituted flax seeds for the chia seeds, and the PB flavor was subtle and not overwhelming. Wendy said something like, “I don’t usually like peanut butter flavors, but this is delicious.”

4. Allrecipes: Ultimate Irresistible Granola

Molly brought this batch, and it was outright finger-lickin’ good. A chewier variation, it had all the elements of a classic, everyday granola: crunch, salt, and a little sweet. We all agreed we could eat this granola every day (and probably will.)

And so they don't kill me for ONLY including pictures of them eating:

So pretty. Oh! Don't forget the doggie bags! Hey you! Do you have a favorite granola recipe? I'd love to try it!

Also: Check out the 2010 "G" post here. One of my favorites from the OG Alphabet Summer.

F is for Fabric

“Hey, nice bag!” says kind stranger.

“Thanks!” says proud owner.

“Where did you buy it?”

“Oh, I made it...” proud maker says, blushing.

“Oh, no way! I really like the fabric! Where did you get it?”

Here's where I've always wanted to say,“Oh, yeah, I made this fabric." Well, wish granted!! I have, literally, CREATED MY OWN FABRIC! The exciting story about how this came to be is as follows.

So. When I was at Purl Soho (which is just straight up ridiculous, by the way, have  you been to that place?) back in February, I found this book which inspired the emotions on the right:

If you’re unfamiliar with Heather Ross, you are (like I was only a few months ago) living in a world of boring fabric designs.

Not only are her prints rich in color, but they incorporate original drawings and artwork that evoke happy nostalgia. I am particularly drawn to how she combines hand-drawn art and Photoshop... and ever since I discovered this book, I have been DYING to dive into this challenge:

And challenge it was: Several really ambitious artistic endeavors all wrapped into one.

First: Decide to draw the chicken.

Choosing my subject was actually a piece ‘o cake. Meet Maude.

I found this card in probably 2005 at 16 Hands when it was on Main Street in Ann Arbor. (Note: I have since tried to get more of them, but it doesn't seem they are making them anymore!) And, since Maude has made her way with me to all of my various homes, front and center on my wall, and she ALWAYS manages to make me chuckle... I decided it was time to pay homage to her and her foam yoga mat.

What is it about her that is so captivating? I mean, she not only asks us a good question around life and work ethic, but she also exudes personality. Something about the way her little plastic chicken legs angle in towards each other, or how one eyeball is just a tiny bit larger, or the fact that somehow her little plastic hip juts out to one side ever so slightly... Sass and angst all wrapped up into one plastic chicken.

Maude, you are my hero.

Second: Draw the chicken.

Wow. I guess I hadn’t drawn in a while. She’s not only complex in her emotions, but Maude is difficult to duplicate. Truly a rare bird.

Third: Photoshop the chicken.

So here’s where my fabulous Photoshop training came into use! I got down and dirty with the polygons, the command T function, the marquee tool, and I got up close and personal with Maude, pixel by pixel.

After some deliberation, I decided on a chevron pattern and tried to stick to the original color palette as much as possible, in order to honor the original card.

Here are some thrilling screen shots of the process:

Fourth: Print the chicken.

Do you know about Spoonflower? WOW. I have known about them for a little while now; I follow them on Instagram, and my friend Susannah has printed fabric with them before. But now, I truly am a believer. Essentially, you upload a JPEG file and they PRINT FABRIC WITH YOUR DESIGN ON IT. That’s it! So simple.

Here's the process (Captured in a mere three photos!)

And now... I await my yard of "Maude the Yogi" fabric! So exciting! What should I make with it? Leave me a comment below if you have an idea!

E is for Education

“Just when I thought I was out... they pull me back in...”

Not like school is the same as being in the Corleone family or anything... but school’s out for the summer!? Not entirely! This week, I had the awesome pleasure of teaching a sewing camp called “Accessorize it!” ...and please don’t forget the exclamation mark.

All but one of my students (age 10, approximately) hadn’t used a sewing machine prior to showing up to class on Day 1. Fresh meat! And thanks to some generous friends and colleagues, we had a 1:1 ratio for machines. We spent the week cranking out all kinds of accessories: bracelets, drawstring pouches, pins, tote bags, infinity scarves, and even hair scrunchies (hello 90’s!).

To summarize:

The experience was educational for all parties. The students were eager and energetic, their final products were elegant, and their egos were elevated (ever so slightly) and I believe they have truly caught the sewing bug.

Yay! More little sewists for the world. But I'll tell you who also learned a thing or two... this guy. (Pointing to myself.)

Basic lessons learned:

1. Bring extra sewing machine needles. Within 20 minutes of the first class, two needles broke, and we were down to three machines. Rookie mistake!

2. Draw lines for students to sew along! Beginners (who are also ten-years-old) tend to veer off course.

3. When drawing said lines, DON’T use a turquoise Sharpie. Use a writing utensil that doesn’t bleed through!

More exciting lessons learned (or re-learned):

1. Sewing is FUN.

2. Watching a bobbin wind is AH-mazing. I had a crowd around me EVERY time we had to wind a bobbin. They were in complete and utter awe.

3. Sewing on a machine is a lot like driving. Therefore, when a person under the age of 16 is sewing... do NOT assume they understand the “your foot controls the show” idea.

4. Do not even bother to give advice to a ten-year-old about which colors look best together. They have their own ideas about that, and cannot be convinced otherwise.

5. Also, don’t bother telling a ten-year-old about what is/isn’t trendy. Making an infinity scarf is apparently a lot less fun than making a long piece of cloth that you can turn into a blindfold or use to whip your friend.

Now... "E"njoy a few pictures from class:

Hey you! Check out the "Blue Tool" here. This thing is MAGICAL for turning straps and threading drawstrings.

D is for Detroit

This activity is a DOOZY. It involves not one, not two, but three things I really like:

1. Making a case for something. 2. Machine applique (or “fancy patches” as I like to think of them) and... big surprise here... 3. Detroit baseball*.

(I promise to not mention baseball again for at least a few letters. See below.)

So here’s the story with the “D.”

Back in the day, I used to make little cloth cases for iPods (back when they didn’t look like iPhones...remember those things?). A few of you probably still have your aforementioned case, even though it's probably serving more as a dust protector than anything else at this point. But, man oh man, I used to love making those little guys. The whole touch screen fad really put me out of business. Poof! Just like that, I had nothing to make snug little cases for! Wahh. And so ensued a dark period.

Then, seven years later, when I was least expecting it, that dark, case-making-less era finally came to an end. Last week my sister told me about a special early birthday present she was getting for our mom, who had recently re-earned the “super” part of her Super-grandma title. Sweet crafting serendipity! It didn't take me long to decide what to do.

A kindle, you say? It’s essentially a GIANT iPOD!!

So I got to work. It was foggy and rainy out (can it be both? Cuz it was.) There was no shortage of coffee. I had a fancy loaner sewing machine and fabric from my trip to Purl Soho. There was a Tigers v. Red Socks game on. ‘Nuf said.

*Now, regarding the theme of the "fancy patch" on this case: I know I must across as some sort of obsessive fanatic. I mean, I already confessed my love AND mentioned it again in the "C" post. But I will say, in my defense, that the Detroit Tigers “D” is more of a tribute to the recipient than it is to my own tastes. It just so happens that we have the same taste when it comes to baseball. Okay?

Hey you! Did you notice I didn't actually HAVE the kindle? I'm sure my pretty awesome cardboard replica fooled you. It's up for grabs if anyone wants it. Let's just pray to the sewing Gods that the case fits on the real thing.

C is for Craft Party

Nothing screams “Wild Night” quite like a Craft Party, am I right?

Yes!

There are few things I look forward to more than a good old-fashioned crafternoon. I mean, can you blame me? Let’s talk about it for a second. You've got sassy conversation, healthy and unhealthy snacks, some kind of needle and thread, and (if you're lucky) at least three types of crafting adhesive. It’s pretty much the perfect way to spend an evening. (Okay, well maybe I’d like there to be a baseball game on the radio, but I can survive without that one.)

And last night’s Etsy Craft Party at the Creativebug HQ was no exception.

If you’re ever in the search for creative inspiration, I highly recommend that you check out Creativebug. They offer affordable online classes for everything your little heart fancies... from quilting to paper crafts to making lip balm. They not only have top quality videos, but they have coralled the crème de la crème of instructors... some of my ultimate crafting idols are teachers for Cbug; Melanie Falick, Radmegan, and of course, the woman who LITERALLY gave birth to Alphabet Summer, my very own mama, Sue. (When you do go to their site, you’ll see why it’s not just because of my mom that I love the site! But also watch her bio video... it features my Grandma Tiny, among other Alphabet family members!)

I was first introduced to Creativebug back in January when my mom was filming her classes here in San Francisco. Since then, I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know some of the rock stars behind the scenes; Jeanne, Kelly, Courtney... who are not only inspirational artists in their own rites, but are proof of what amazingness can happen when truly good people put their creative minds together.

So last night I headed over to Potrero Hill with my new 50mm lens and my all-around-life-partner-in-crime, Molly. Paper art genius Courtney (Paper Musings) was leading an activity in making ATCs (which, it turns out, does NOT stand for Air Traffic Controllers, but Artist Trading Cards) and faster than you could say “black and white chevron washi tape,” we were crafting our night away!

Now, Molly and I are no strangers to being around Craft Royalty (back in March we attended Craftcation together, but more on that later), but we were, as usual, humbled by the openness and warmth of the Creativebuggers. And, in other serendipitous news, it just so happened that we were ATC-ing across the table from Ali and Emily from the Makerie, the creative retreat in Colorado that we had been swooning over for months. Ridiculous! It was a crazy night, that’s for sure.

Thanks for having us, Cbug! We are inspired.

Scroll down to enjoy the pictures of Courtney’s GORGEOUS studio design for last night’s party.

comma (a punctuation pause)

This punctuation pause is brought to you by the comma.

As I prepare for the letter "C," which will be up tomorrow, please enjoy this interlude starring the adorable amoebas (thanks Jessi!) Maxi and Carmel. All I can say about "C" is that it may or may not involve a CRAFT PARTY. Whaaaaaaaat?!

I know.

Also, please enjoy the definition of the comma below. Kind of perfect!

Noun

1. A punctuation mark (,) indicating a pause between parts of a sentence. It is also used to separate items in a list and to mark the place...
2. A minute interval or difference of pitch.

Source: Merriam Webster dictionary

M & C, take it away...

I feel like we are all a little bit Maxi, and a little bit Carmel.

A special thanks to Alice and Nick for the ideas in this one. You guys really know how to delve into the "square" mind:)

B is for Baseball

THANK GOD “B” is the second letter of the alphabet, because I have been dying to tell Baseball how I feel about him for some time now, and I am so relieved that I don’t have to wait any longer.

Baseball, I LOVE YOU. There.

ALERT: For those of you who, upon hearing the word “baseball,” feel the sudden urge to yawn, don’t skip this post! I have included this little visual treat to keep your eyes from glossing over.

So here’s a little background on the “B” activity.

Every year at my school, the seventh graders write essays that are based on the NPR series “This I Believe.” They are personal, honest, and often touching declarations that challenge the thirteen year old mind to dig deep; they examine themselves and their core values. It’s a REALLY GREAT EXERCISE. And every year, I promise those little sweethearts that I’ll write one of my own. And so the familiar scene played out again last month. Them asking, “so what did you write about, Ashley?” Me, dodging the question, “Hey, sooo ahhh what’s up with that Justin Bieber dude, anyway?” I simply cannot live with the guilt any longer.

So, below you will find my attempt at This-I-Believing it. Thanks to Jodi for the advice and edits. Even though it is still a work in progress, you all can thank her for improving upon the wretched, mind-barfy first draft.

Oh, and did I mention, we literally force them to read their essays out loud a là NPR? Therefore, everybody, I have taken this as an opportunity to practice what I preach. As I prepared this recording (found below), I realize now why some of them might burst into tears or run screaming to the bathroom. It’s HARD to read something personal out loud! But, Alphabet Summer is all about “trying new things,” and “stepping out of one’s comfort zone,” and all that...

If you want to listen (you may have to click on the m4a file link after the word "Download"):

[audio http://alphabetsummer.files.wordpress.com/2013/06/ibelieveinbaseball.m4a]

If you want to read:

I believe in baseball. The game of baseball. Baseball is numbers. It’s technique. It’s skill and luck, it’s human error and precise measurements. Baseball is humility. Baseball is pride. Baseball is a marathon and a sprint. Baseball is disappointment. Baseball is celebration. Baseball is life.

Echoing the ins and outs of the human existence, the game itself is a thing of beauty. Sometimes the shortstop is out in the dusty field, unsure about what’s coming his way, but knowing that the batter is looking to smash the ball over his head. And sometimes he’s up to bat, his sole responsibility is to get something going, all eyes waiting to see what he’ll do with the pitch thrown. Baseball can be so dog-gone slow, dragging on and on for hours into the middle of the night. Or, it can be fast. Double plays, grand slams, stolen bases... the course of the game changing depending on how the ball leaves the pitcher’s fingers.

Sometimes, players slump. They strike out every time they get to the plate. People talk about what’s going on with them and then they get all messed up in their head about it. Or whack... they finally hit the ball but it goes right into the shortstop's glove. But then... sometimes they get hot. On FIRE. Man, when it rains, it pours. A twelve game hitting streak, hitting it out of the park in consecutive games, or maybe they even bat through the cycle or win triple crowns.

Quite often, players get humbled. If the basic mechanics aren’t there, then the pitcher will never consistently throw that curve ball. They make mistakes, they watch the people around them make mistakes. They go on the disabled list. They pitch a shutout into the 8th inning, and the closer can’t seal the deal. They lose some.

But it’s all a part of something bigger. It’s you, it’s the pitcher, it’s the catcher’s throw to second, it’s the warm-up swings, it’s the signs from the third base coach. It’s the sacrifice squeeze, it’s the right fielder on the warning tracks, it’s the person who sews the number on the back of the uniforms, it’s their high school coaches. It’s the manager’s long walk out to the mound, it’s the high-five to the guy who got the sacrifice out, it’s the seventh inning stretch. It’s the sunflower seeds, it’s that punching gesture the home plate umpire makes on a called third strike, it’s the belly flop slide into home.

Turns out it’s not hard to pinpoint the things I love about baseball. A distraction, an obsession, a pastime, a tradition. The game can be magical, inspirational, heart-breaking. It’s perfectly imperfect. What more could you ask for in this life? This, I believe.

Hey you! Did you click on the "This I Believe" link up there? It's an essay that Jackie Robinson wrote in 1952. It's pretty cool.

Tales of an ABC (Après Bird Cleanse)

I wonder how many people, like me, ate a cabbage salad today for lunch. It wasn't helpful that my birthday fell on Thanksgiving week and my lovely friend Anne made me the world's most delicious chocolate cake, and I "accidentally" didn't give anyone doggie bags.

Coincidentally, I was also on pie duty for Turkey Day, and since we were a party of 11 people, one pie wasn't going to cut it. Three cups of butter and 2 cups of sugar later, I had dessert covered! Did I mention we held our second annual wine tasting contest involving 11 different bottles of Zinfandel?

Needless to say, today was a cabbage day. It was also a day for this:

I'm thankful for all of it, including the moderate headache and the newly formed cavities. I mean, I got to spend the day with some of my favorite people in the world, AND this morning I got a letter from England in the mail! England! As the old saying goes, "you know it's a good day when a letter for Hashlay arrives in the mail."

Check out Susannah's art here. She's an inspiration. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some leftover pie to eat.

Photos taken with Instagram.

A Fruitful Summer

Even though the summer of 2011 didn't sow quite as many seeds as last year, I still managed to harvest some crops!  Cherries, cucumbers and oranges were the fruits of my labors this year.

Alphabet Novelties

Well, it's officially official. I am a National Novel Writing Month champion!
Yesterday, November 28th at about 7:00pm, I finished writing and clocked in at 50,050 words, sick of the sight of my main character, her name, and her annoying habits. One day later, though, I have to admit something. I miss her and her lack of personality a little bit. I even found myself missing the weight of the heavy laptop I schlepped around town all month. And I most definitely miss drinking cafe au laits with my writing posse, distracting ourselves with word clouds on wordle.net and catching each other on Facebook when we really should have been writing. Good times. But, alas, I've always been the sentimental type. I'll eventually get over it.
While the novel as a whole is entirely too bad to share, what with it's cringe-worthy romantic encounters and complete lack of character development, the experience in itself was highly enjoyable.
And I learned an important lesson about fiction writing.
It's HARD!
It makes me re-think my whole identity as a reader. How easy is it for us to soak up a novel in, what, two days? When in reality, the writer has poured hours upon months upon years into those 200 pages. And then has had someone sit down and pick it apart. If "Spanish Ham" even sees the light of a bedside table, it will look absolutely nothing like it does now. It might not even be called "Spanish Ham," but something atrocious like "An American in Valencia" or "Love in the time of Oranges." Yikes.
Even though in the end I have done this only for myself (can you believe NaNoWriMo doesn't give monetary prizes for crossing the finish line!?), I have decided to share a small snippet. A bad snippet, but a snippet it is.
And you better believe I edited this excerpt at least fourteen times before posting it here, and it's still bad. Considering it took me about 24 hours to revise 800 words, don't be expecting to read more anytime soon.
(My main character has gone to a soccer game alone because her BF is out of town and she wanted to gain some "life perspective" by experiencing it on her own.)

And there she was, at 7:30, in the vomitory seat where the previous night she had sworn that this was going to be therapeutic. As she looked at the empty seat next to her, she wondered if she shouldn’t have just called Paco to see if she could give his ticket to one of her friends. But which one of her leftie-indie-hippie friends would have taken her up on that offer? She did, however, half expect one of Gabi’s other crazy family members to appear on the spot.
But kickoff came and went, and still no seat filler. She looked down at the field. Nothing exciting going on. A lot of back and forth. Five, ten minutes passed. She looked around her in the stands. A group of boys in their late teens shouting into their cell phones about some party on Friday. A group of middle-aged men. A little girl with her dad. Ugh, maybe this was not the ideal place to come to any life conclusions. The little girl next to her started making head motions towards her, apparently intrigued by this light-haired fair-skinned lady who was on her own and very out of place. Entertainment, Farrah thought, and asked her the first thing that came to her mind.
“Do you like watching the soccer?” was all she could come up with.
The girl looked at her dad, who was too busy making violent arm gestures towards the field to notice his daughter eyeing him for assistance.
“You know,” Farrah continued, “When I was your age, my dad used to take me to see football.” The girl played with her Valencia scarf, but Farrah sensed she was listening. “I used to love it, all the shouting and the jumping up and down. What do you think of it?”
The girl hesitated. “It’s alright,” she whispered, “My brother normally comes, but he is in trouble, so my dad brought me.” Her last statement was in a braver tone of voice, more confident.
Farrah was only thinking about the unfairness of it all. Why does the brother get to go and not her? Typical.
“I have an idea,” Farrah was scheming. “What’s your name?”
“Carmen,” she stated.
“Good, Carmen. Listen. You have to show your dad that you love coming here, that way he’ll bring you all the time. Not just when your brother can’t come. Football is not just for boys, you know.”
“But I don’t really like all of the shouting,” she admitted.
“Well, you’ll see, you’ll see how it’s actually very exciting,” Farrah slipped in, more for herself than for Carmen.
At that moment, Valencia’s forward took a shot on goal, high over the left side of the cage, sending everyone to their feet. Farrah let out an enormous groan, Carmen holding both arms high in the air while her dad yelled “FUCKING SHIT!” She looked over to Farrah as if to say, “What do you expect me to do about this guy?”
As Farrah turned away to giggle, her foreigner radar honed in on a blue-jeaned Americano approaching. Oh god, he’s coming over to this empty seat, she thought.
“Excuse me, is this seat taken?” He asked in perfectly American English. Dammit. Yes, yes it’s taken. Go away, if I wanted to meet Americans, I would still be living in America. No, don't be like that. Be nice, Farrah.
“No, it’s not,” she finally squeaked out, careful not to be speaking too loudly in English, so as to not lose face with Carmen.
He sat down. She turned back to her only other hope for salvation, but Carmen was involved in some kind of cell phone-texting scheme with her dad.
“Whose seat is this?” the stranger asked, and Farrah noticed a neutral accent, most likely from the central part of the homeland, perhaps Colorado or even one of the Dakotas.
Extremely hesitant and not wanting to get sucked into the same old Ex-Pat conversation, Farrah brusquely stated, “It belongs to a friend who is out of town.” And she hoped that would, by some miracle, stop the conversation.
“Do you live here?” He continued.
Sigh. “Yes, for many years now.” She said, sounding arrogant to anyone but herself.
“Oh, I see. Yeah, I’ve been here for a bit, you know, traveling around and all of that. My name is James.” He slipped in that last part as if she had actually asked.
“Farrah.”
“Ah! Like Farrah Fawcett! Nice!” James said, in the same way that the Spaniards would say, “Oh, like farra! Let’s go out for some farra!” Which would, of course, make Farrah feel the opposite of wanting to have a crazy party. But she forced out a smile, which clearly invited him to continue the interrogation.
“How is it that you have been here for so long, Farrah Fawcett?”

So, there you have a piece of "Spanish Ham." Pretty hammy, huh?
Now, for your further enjoyment: A wordle.net word cloud that represents the top 500 words used in my novel. The more a word is used, the bigger it gets:

What is Alphabet Summer up to?

Well, yes, it could be time to call it Alphabet Autumn, or even Alphabet Indian Summer for those of you in the Bay Area.  But even though my crafting fingers haven't been making crafty things, I have been keeping my little alphabet soul busy during this month of November. I have been writing a novel!  Yes, I said, NOVEL!  50,000 words to be exact.  Today, which is day #23, I am officially on track with my word count!  38,440 words and counting.  Ten days to go,  and a little over 12,000 words to go. Inspired by (first and foremost) my friend Molly last year, and then later by my bf Chris, or as the program director Lindsey referred to him the other day, the "reason for the season," the goal is to write an entire novel during the month of November. Check it out: National Novel Writing Month What is my novel about? Wouldn't we all like to know. It's a very mediocre story about an American girl named Farrah who lives and works in Valencia, Spain. Hmmm, sound familiar? Yes, I decided to stick to what I know for the first try. It started out as a kind of Nick Hornby-esque story about a girl who goes to some soccer games (football, or futbol for some of you) and it literally has turned into more of a Bridget Jones-esque romantic comedy. But what can you do? I recently just made a fourteen year old girl named Arantxa (who didn't even exist a week ago) into a key player in the resolution of the love story. But whatever! It's fun, and I'm highly enjoying taking on the "novelist persona" that gives me the right to occupy tables at coffee shops for hours on end. Not to mention the friendly competition amongst other participants, including my own boyfriend (my word count has been above his for the entire month thank you very much.) On Sunday night, I had the distinct privilege to attend the NaNoWriMo fund raising event called "The Night of Writing Dangerously." It was amazing. Imagine: Wedding reception in a ballroom in the financial district of San Francisco, but except the tables were filled with not gaudy centerpieces and name cards, but laptops. And they were serving drinks called "Novel-tini's" and "Cosmo-novel-tons." It was open bar. Need I say more. Check out the amazing poster: Oh, also, I have discovered Google Reader and also Twitter. There are so many blogs and so little time! I'm alphabetashley on Twitter, if you are interested! November 30th, here I come!

Z is for Zeitgeist! (The End.)

True to it’s definition in the Merriam-Webster dictionary (the general intellectual, moral and cultural climate of an era), Zeitgeist has been more than representative of this era in my life.
The closest bar to school, I have spent many sunny (read: chilly) San Francisco Friday afternoons on the patio at Zeitgeist.  For those of you who have not experienced this place, I am sorry to say that I have no picture proof.  Because of the “flexibility” on what you can smoke outside on their enormous open-air terrace, the “photo police” are on constant patrol.  So, I am challenged on my last blog entry (sad sigh) to photograph the big Z in words.
Picture (for those Ann Arborites) a very large Dominicks, minus the family vibe, plus a large biker-bar contingency.  Wallet chains, tattoos, suped-up hipster road bikes hanging from the bike rack with the warning to not leave your bike or else it will be gone.  Four Port-O-Potties, delicious hamburgers, and the occasional Tamale lady.  The best Bloody Mary in town, according to some.  Sunglasses, skinny jeans, card playing, giant heavy glass pitchers of beer, American Spirits and Parliaments as far as the eye can see.
Check out their website for a few actual photos!  http://www.zeitgeistsf.com/
I chose to celebrate the end of my blog drinking the only beer with a Z in the name, the Franziskaner Hefeweisen.  Delicious.  Now, here comes the Zeitgeist-induced self reflection!
Favorite blog entry:
I really enjoyed talking to my Grandma.  I think that was the most fun, in terms of process and final result.  In terms of a crafty activity, I really like the DIY skinny pants I made!
Hardest blog entry:
Well, naturally, the most physically and mentally demanding one was that bloody Patchwork Quilt.
Most enjoyable to make blog entry:
I had so much fun at the Tea Party!  That was a great day.  The X-tra credit research was also fun, in that dorky way. And obviously, Vacation was unbeatable.
Favorite thing about blogging:
My favorite thing about this experience has been the writing.  It turns out I really enjoy writing!  I was scarred by graduate school, and assumed the process of writing and editing was always painfully boring.
What have I learned from this experience?
That when I get set on something I like, I become stubbornly obsessed with it!  I had several minor panic-attacks when something went wrong (paypal sucks) or when I would have trouble coming up with ideas.
What would I change for future Alphabet Summers?
Not a lot.  I think I would like to have more photography skills in order to properly capture the experience.  I would also love more web design and HTML knowledge.  And while I’m asking for things, I’d also like a bigger work space!
I would like to say thank you to everybody who kept up with my little summer challenge. Thanks to my devoted comment-ers, who made me smile. Also important to me were those silent partners out there, too. You guys rock.
This is just the end for now.
Thanks and adiós por ahora!

X-tra credit!

Were you one of those people who always took the extra credit opportunities in school?  I think it says something about a person, whether or not they are comfortable broadcasting their own nerdiness to the entire class.  As a middle school teacher, I am reminded of how it takes a very special teenager to actually do this.  But there they are, the geeked-out minority, not afraid to rush up to the board to conjugate a verb.  And, bless them, they will most likely grow up to write a blog entry about how finding extra information for the sake of learning is oh-so-thrilling.
On that note, this summer, many questions have come up.  So many, in fact, that they have been written down into a little notebook.  So, I have set out on this second to last weekday of freedom to uncover the mysteries and give myself gold stars for extra credit.

1. What exactly is a glacier? And I can’t remember how to say it in Spanish. 2. What causes a volcano? 3. What is up with the supervolcano in Yellowstone? 4. Why are barns red? 5. How did those dumb car stickers with Calvin peeing start? 6. How does Google know about traffic? 7. Who was the original artist that made those catchy newspaper cut-out magnets with 50’s housewives on them? 8. Why is there only one type of bear spray on sale in Montana? And why is it so expensive? 9. Why do all movies use 555 numbers?

Okay.  So here’s the dirt:
1. According to Wikipedia, a glacier is a perennial mass of ice which moves over land.  Se dice glaciar en español.  Duh. This is the Perito Moreno glaciar en Argentina.
2. Well, here it is, thanks Wikipedia: There are four causes that I could determine:  Volcanoes are generally found where tectonic plates diverging (moving away from each other) or converging (colliding). A mid-oceanic ridge, for example the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, has examples of volcanoes caused by divergent tectonic plates Pacific Ring of Fire has examples of volcanoes caused by convergent tectonic plates coming together. By contrast, volcanoes are usually not created where two tectonic plates slide past one another. Volcanoes can also form where there is stretching and thinning of the Earth's crust (called "non-hotspot intraplate volcanism"), such as in the East African Rift, the Wells Gray-Clearwater volcanic field and the Rio Grande Rift in North America.  Volcanoes can be caused by mantle plumes. These so-called hotspots, for example at Hawaii, can occur far from plate boundaries. Hotspot volcanoes are also found elsewhere in the solar system, especially on rocky planets and moons.
3. The Yellowstone Caldera, or the Yellowstone Supervolcano, like Hawaii, is believed to lie on top of an area called a hotspot, where light, hot, molten mantle rock rises towards the surface.  The area experiences between 1,000 and 2,000 measurable earthquakes a year, but the last full scale volcanic eruption occurred 640,000 years ago.  Residents of Victor Idaho and the surrounding area can rest assured, because the U.S. Geological Survey, University of Utah and National Park Service scientists with the Yellowstone Volcano Observatory maintain that they "see no evidence that another such cataclysmic eruption will occur at Yellowstone in the foreseeable future. Recurrence intervals of these events are neither regular nor predictable."[Wikipedia] Phew!
4.  According to the Farmer’s Almanac: Many years ago, choices for paints, sealers and other building materials did not exist. Farmers had to be resourceful in finding or making a paint that would protect and seal the wood on their barns. Hundreds of years ago, many farmers would seal their barns with linseed oil, which is an orange-colored oil derived from the seeds of the flax plant. To this oil, they would add a variety of things, most often milk and lime, but also ferrous oxide, or rust. Rust was plentiful on farms and because it killed fungi and mosses that might grow on barns, was very effective as a sealant. It turned the mixture red in color.  When paint became more available, many people chose red paint for their barns in honor of tradition. Interesting.
5. Origin of Calvin peeing stickers. As far as I could find out, the stickers are not sanctioned by the creator of Calvin & Hobbes, and the only “real” information I could get on who was the first to do this was from sites like Uncyclopedia and the Onion.  But, I did find this out on Wikipedia:  Almost no legitimate Calvin and Hobbes merchandise exists outside of the book collections. However, the strip's immense popularity has led to the appearance of various counterfeit items such as window decals and T-shirts that often feature crude humor, binge drinking and other themes that are not found in Watterson's work. After threat of a lawsuit alleging infringement of copyright and trademark, some sticker makers replaced Calvin with a different boy, while other makers made no changes. Watterson wryly commented, "I clearly miscalculated how popular it would be to show Calvin urinating on a Ford logo."
6. Holy...  Ain’t technology somethin’? “If you use “Google Maps for mobile” with GPS enabled on your phone, that's exactly what you can do. When you choose to enable Google Maps with “My Location”, your phone sends anonymous bits of data back to Google describing how fast you're moving. When we combine your speed with the speed of other phones on the road, across thousands of phones moving around a city at any given time, we can get a pretty good picture of live traffic conditions. We continuously combine this data and send it back to you for free in the Google Maps traffic layers. It takes almost zero effort on your part — just turn on Google Maps for mobile before starting your car — and the more people that participate, the better the resulting traffic reports get for everybody.” http://googlemobile.blogspot.com/2009/08/bright-side-of-sitting-in-traffic.html
7. Anne Taintor:  http://www.annetaintor.com/
8. Bear spray.  The only one we could find on sale in Glacier National Park was the brand “Counter Assault,” which is advertised as “the Original.”  But I figured out why we could only find this one kind ($49.99/canister).  According to their website (http://counterassault.com), they are the official providers to many government agencies, one of them being the US National Park Service.  Ah ha!  P.S. If you are going there let me know, you can have our unused (thank god) canister. Also, they don’t tell you what to do in the case you do encounter a bear, so I found this great website (if you ignore the comic sans), if you’re interested:  http://www.yellowstone-bearman.com/b_spray.html
9.   The question about the 555 numbers came up under the argument, “When you see a 555 on the movie screen, doesn’t this just remind the audience that what they’re watching is fake?”  Well, once again, I consulted the Wikipedia machine, and found this interestingness out: Phone companies encouraged movie companies to use the 555 prefix starting in the 1960’s.  Nowadays, only 555-0100 through 555-0199 are reserved for fictional usage, and only within the US.  Check the website for a funny story about Gary Larson being sued in Australia for having used a 555 prefix to call Satan (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/555_%28telephone_number%29).  Ha ha!
Do I get my extra credit points?

U is for Used Books.

A lot of people were curious to know what I missed about the US while living abroad for so long.  Big hamburgers?  Giant parking spots?  Spatial awareness while walking down the street?  Nope. Used bookshops!  And, I arguably chose the best neighborhood to find these dusty treasures.  Although most recently my favorite has been Half-Price Books in Berkeley, the Mission is loaded with second-hand reading material.  In honor of my one-year anniversary of being back in the US of A, I decided to take a used book tour and look for U authors. Unlikely?  Perhaps.  I started out at my house on 16th street and ended up at the ultimate used-book center: the Mission branch of the SF Public Library.
My first stop wasn’t a long journey: Adobe books, literally across the street.  By far the most chaotic in terms of organization, Adobe is also the coolest and the quirkiest bookshop in the neighborhood.  It’s full of dusty paperbacks, worn-out lounge chairs and even more broken-in SF natives.  Today, I went to the Spanish section to look for my U book:  Score!  An staple from any undergrad Spanish lit course: Miguel de Unamuno, San Manuel Bueno, Martir.  On the inside, a bookplate proving its origin at the UT Austin Department of Spanish and Portuguese.
Next up, Community Thrift.  Usually fairly reliable for $1 books, but unfortunately today’s trip was quick.  Their “U” section?  One book.
Further down Valencia street, I thought I would try out the sci-fi specializing Borderlands, whose U/V combined section contained approximately zero books by U authors.  Next door at Modern Times Book Shop, another fruitless search through their used book section, which consists of a cart on the street.
On to Dog Eared Books, also known as the place where I purchased my first used book in San Francisco (Armistead Maupin’s More Tales of the City.)  Here, I noticed a slight obsession with John Updike.  An entire shelf!  My interest is peaked.  Anyone have any opinions about this author?
My last stop was the library.  Frustrated and fed up with the letter U,  I took on a different mission:  Audio books for my upcoming road trip to Montana.  A sparse selection, but I managed to walk out with a few, including Jack London’s Call of the Wild.
Conclusion? There are not many authors whose names begin with the letter U.

Tea Party!

Yesterday, Molly, Claire and I indeed "took some time for tea" at Lovejoy’s Tea Room in Noe Valley (www.lovejoystearoom.com).  We were truly transported to your English grandmother’s country house for tea and crumpets.  What a tea-rrific place!  Mismatch china to perfectly clash with the mismatch antique furniture, lace and doilies as far as the eye could see.  A mixture of tables full of families, giggling girls like us, and the one standout all-male table.
The Earl Grey and China Rose Petal tea was bottomless, and the sandwiches were crust-less and triangular. Our favorite was the Pear & Stilton sandwich. With two thirds of our party convinced we remembered what Stilton was (me claiming "mild, like a white cheddar" and Claire sure it was "not strong at all"), it turns out to be of the stinky, strong blue variety! The scones were pretty much authentic (according to Claire, an actual Scottish person) and the Double Devon Cream was richer than butter.  Having become a self-proclaimed coffee snob since moving to San Francisco, Lovejoy’s took me back to my days of living with English gals, who would not really consider themselves fully hydrated if they didn’t have at least one cup an hour.
After we finished what the menu referred to as “Light Tea,” involving about 15 cups of tea and 12 pounds of butter, we headed across the street to Lovejoy’s Attic, where you can purchase tea paraphernalia, including (to Claire’s delight) Branson Pickle and McVitie’s biscuits.  And what tea party would be complete without trying on kitschy English party hats?
Afterwards, because for some reason the caffeine in tea doesn’t make your head spin around until you’re sleepy in the same way that coffee does, the three of us were fueled with enough tea energy to take our wallets over to Fort Mason for the Renegade Craft Fair (www.renegadecraft.com), a place which needs no explanation.  As if the day needed more terrific-ness!