The Fruits of the Garden

The fruit plants are definitely benefitting from the early spring. 

I've never seen the strawberries bloom this early. Usually closer to mid-May or early June, but I can't remember ever seeing them in early- to mid-April. 

They always surprise me with how quickly they grow back. They'll go from almost nothing in March, after it starts to thaw, to quickly taking over that patch of land where I have them. Over the course of the summer, when they start to set fruit, I'll easily have a couple of quarts of strawberries -- but sadly, then I won't have any more until the following year, since I refuse to buy them out of season. One of these years I'll hopefully have enough that I can freeze them, and maybe even make ice cream.

I continue to adore the fruit bushes, and continue to be immensely proud of them. 

I planted them just about two years ago now, and had absolutely no idea what I was doing. 

I knew that I wanted something in this side yard so I didn't have to mow the lawn up there (because while I am passionate about urban agriculture, I am also lazy). And I knew I wanted fruit. So blackberries and raspberries it was. I didn't want to call the landscaper for an easy job (ha!), so I excavated the side yard, mulched it, and planted them. 

And admittedly, then called the landscaper to take out the mulch and put in the limestone, with a warning to be careful around the bushes.

I figured I'd be doing well if they survived the first winter. I figured they'd be doing well if they not only survived that first winter, but actually made fruit by the second summer. I harbored no such illusions that they'd fruit the first summer -- three months after they were planted. 

So imagine my surprise that first summer when that little raspberry plant on the end started setting fruit. And then ripening fruit. 

And my surprise was even bigger the first spring following -- 2016 -- when I looked out one day and saw that the blackberries were taller than I was. And then I got nearly a pint of fruit each week from all the bushes combined during the summer. 

This year, I got smart. Once I realized they were big enough, and were only going to get bigger, I bought trellises, and staked them up. 

Last check, they were almost four feet tall. 

And this is April. 

Keeping the Plants Happy -- But Maybe Not the Cat

I'm very proud of the quality of life that my plants have. 

Gardening is Very Serious Business at the CollectingBlues household. Seedlings get planted early on, and then the garden planner comes out once I have a better idea about what I can reasonably grow.

But the really exciting part is when it gets warm and bright enough out in the sunroom for the seedlings to move...

And then for the seedlings to be transplanted. 

The seedlings really tend to take off once they get natural light, even though the electric set up is pretty adequate. So this year, I was thrilled when after having to move them early, I came back from my vacation to see that the cucurbits -- the squashes, the watermelon and honeydew, and then the cucumbers -- were outgrowing their little pods, and needed a new home.

I'm pretty sure that the eggplant, tomatoes, and pepper are not that far behind. They're doing well with their true leaves, and I think they just need another week or two to get a little more established before I transplant them to the bigger pots.

Then they'll all hang out in the sunroom for a few more weeks to harden off. The Farmer's Almanac says that the last frost will be around May 1 or so, and I'll be off on May 8, so I'm thinking planting in the garden may happen that day -- or by the following weekend at the latest. 

Of course, this time of year also involves the "Be nice to the plants" conversation with Cat. 

For this time of year, she has to sacrifice her sitting spaces so that mama's plants can grow big and strong. (She's a cat. We talk in toddler language.)

She manages, though. She doesn't get the benefit of the plants, but she gets the benefit of a happy mama. 

Joy, a Long Time Coming

This tree is definitely in the list of "stupid things that I love so much." 

One of my fantasies for as long as I can remember as an adult has been to have whatever I could get close to an orchard in my back yard. So when I bought the house, and it came time for landscaping, I asked my landscaper to take out a pole that was randomly in the backyard (I don't understand the previous owners) and replace it with an apple tree.

And then I waited. And waited. 

Nothing happened that first fall, but I figured, OK, that's normal.

And then nothing happened the next spring.

I am not a patient person. 

So I Googled, and saw that apple trees won't blossom and set fruit for typically three to five years after being planted. 

Three. To. Five. Years.

An eternity for a not-very-patient person.

So I waited. And waited.

A few weeks back, I had a sense that something different was coming. I could tell that the tree was doing something, but wasn't sure if it was leafing, or if it was blossoming. It looked different than previous leafing years, but at this point, I'd accepted that the tree wasn't on my schedule. 

I was out doing some work in my yard, and my neighbor mentioned how nice everything looked when it was up and growing. I made a comment to her that the tree looked different, and she gave me the "Crazy Neighbor Lady Is Crazy" look, and said that no, she thought it was just leaves.

I felt vindicated when this happened a week or so after that conversation:

I was right! (There also may have been some creative exclaiming when I walked into my yard and saw this.) 

Almost three years to the dot, the tree finally felt comfortable and confident enough to bloom. I don't know if this is a harbinger of apples for this harvest season, but I love looking at it from my patio at night, and knowing that for once, my patience paid off.

Five short days later, the tree had burst into full bloom. 

It was worth the wait. 

Someday My Prints Will Come

It's OK to go ahead and groan at that headline. Say it out loud. Then groan.

Part III 

The navy and blue sateen was a "Oh, crap! I need something to work with Vogue 1397! It needs to drape. Or something," purchase. Because at that point, the associate said that my other choices were sold out, and desperation was kicking in.

I don't really know what to do with sateen. I had to Google what sateen even was. 

But because I am a pattern hoarder, of course, I had a pattern appropriate for sateen: Vogue 8812. 

And of course, it's another out of print pattern. (On the upside, I don't buy patterns nearly as often now?) But I think the bows will be a fun print for this vintage pattern, and come summer, when I expect my building to be super warm, it'll be nice with a shrug or bolero.

This was what ended up winning the battle of Vogue 1397. I felt like a poplin -- especially this poplin -- would hold the drape better than the stretch cotton, especially when paired with the size of this skirt and the organza underneath. 

Plus, once it's time to sew, there's a fun little surprise that I'll add in the back. 
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Sometimes the Results Surprise Me

I puffy heart love this dress so much.

The really funny thing is that I wasn't on board with it about halfway through the process. It felt tight, and clingy, and it was looking all weird and funny on the dress form. I was having my doubts as to whether it would fit without making me anxious, because it was so clingy in the waist when I first tried it on. 

But after letting it hang for 24 hours (AKA, following the directions), and then hemming it, it was absolutely perfect. Nice drape, and it has a nice small flare out when I twirl (a very important feature in a dress).

Pattern: Vogue 9199

This dress definitely lived up to the pattern name. No ripping out, and aside from fit anxiety, no major swearing or yelling.

I had it finished in practically an evening, and could have knocked it off the next day if it weren't for the need to let the dress hang for 24 hours -- and such a critical step that was! It's not bias cut, but because of how the side panels are cut and attached, it really did need time to settle. 

Pattern notes say that the pattern is close fitting through the bust, but in typical My Body Is Weird fashion, I found it to be slightly too large in the bust, but fitted through the waist. 

Typically I'll do pattern sloping when this problem happens -- my waist feels so far from proportion that it's not even funny -- but I was hesitant on this pattern because of the side patterns. I'm very glad I made the modifications that I did:

• Kept pattern sizing at 14 for front and back sections
• Cut to size 16 for side panels in front and back
• Reduced seam allowance to 3/8 on side panels, where they attach to the front and back panels

The 16 would have been too large overall, but these modifications gave me the ease that I needed through the waist. 

I'd like to try this again, and possibly try out a sleeveless version. It should be easy to modify for sleeveless, and that would give me another option for summer dresses.

Fabric: Black and white floral, printed polyester jersey (the first Mood order)

Love the print on this one. It looked exactly like what I wanted the finished product to be. 

Kind of a pain to work with. It was super sticky for pinning and sewing, and it wouldn't hang right on the dressform without a lot of fussing from me. It was nerve-wracking, and I kept reminding myself that unlike my dressform, I do not have fuzzy skin that grabs things. 

My machine was not on board with this fabric. I typically do a modified zigzag stitch on knits, but every time I tried that with this dress, it just kept getting caught in the feeder. I think the fabric was simply to sticky to let the zigzag work. On the upside, that means that the basic straight stitch should be adequate to hold the seams nicely. 

Relatedly: The amount of fuzz I cleaned out from the machine after I finished was astonishing. That also may have influenced the bobbin issues. It was like using a Biore strip -- fascinating, but disgusting. 

Stigma: Or Why I Can't Shut Up About It

It's funny, in a way. I've spent the bulk of my career trying to reduce stigma around mental illness and behavioral health.

But somehow it's different when it's yourself. 

Which almost makes it feel worse. Because wow, I spend all this time breaking down stigma, and yet I won't discuss it. 

No more. 

I used to think that I covered behaviors really, really well. But then you notice those things from others that reflect that you aren't covering as well as you think. 

• When you're out to dinner with someone you're meeting in person for the first time... and she pegs you as having issues with food restriction when you start breaking the pieces of your entree apart. 
• When a colleague preemptively suggests that they'll split a cookie with you so you don't have to get it on your own.
• When it's your last day at your job, and the manager apologizes for not bringing in doughnuts, so you laugh it off as "I wouldn't have eaten them anyway!" ... and your colleagues laugh in agreement. 
• Or when your new boss asks a week into the job, "So what do you eat?"

Here's the reality: I'm a real-life, full-fledged nearly 38-year-old professional who has issues with food. 

And no, in response to the second therapist I saw in Pittsburgh, I don't binge. But that was enlightening to see the bias even among practitioners -- that there was/is a perception that if you're not thin, you must binge. When the reality for me is that I'm quite on the opposite end of the spectrum. 

Like I've explained to provider after provider: It's not that I don't think I need to eat. I just don't think I need to eat as much as everyone else thinks I need to eat, and my life as it pertains to food tends to involve a series of very precise calculations. The odds are good that if I'm out with someone, and I'm eating a full meal, that I'll have nothing the rest of the day. Or that I'll have a small salad, with precisely weighed lettuce and a bit of organic turkey. Or that I'll go out for a long run -- or that I'll have just come from a long run.

That's the part that gets exhausting after a while. 

Always doing the math. What have I burned. What can I burn. What have I eaten. What can I eat. 

Whether I've gone for a run or a swim or to barre, and whether that balances everything out. 

What I'm going to do if I travel, or if I can't make a workout. How I'll mitigate that anxiety if something interferes with my plans or calculations. 

The almost funny thing is that when you're in this way of thinking, but you've gone from being on the heavier side (although apparently still far below the U.S. average ... not that anyone has ever accused me of being average) to the slimmer side of the healthy weight spectrum, no one seems to really notice what's going on -- and really, I don't blame them, since I maintain the issue is that it's just the thought process that's paralyzing. 

Where stigma comes creeping back in? The mental math gets more power, since I figure that hey, if this were an issue before now, someone would have said something. But instead, since dealing with a resurgence of issues over the past few years, I've been commended for losing weight and making "healthy choices," lauded for a "fitness transformation," and praised for having an almost encyclopedic knowledge of food. 

But now I'm finding myself back on the other end. Where now, apparently people think this is a problem, and there's no lack of opinions on my current weight or state of eating. And I don't tend to believe any of them, because from my perspective, I'm doing what I've always been doing, but with perhaps a little more precision. 

That's why it's time to talk about it. Because the media and social media show an eating problem as being that emaciated anorectic, or the 600-pound individual with binge eating disorder. Or the bulimic who binges, and then purges to make it all go away. 

But there's more to it. And that conversation needs to happen. 

And if I can't break down misconceptions, who am I to ask anyone else to do it? 

Third Time's the Charm

I have been trying to make this dress for a very long time. 

It's a cute dress, and I like the layout and fit. But making it has not been a successful process. 

Finally did it!

I started making this back when I lived in the apartment -- so at least four years -- and I'm pretty sure that the initial version wasn't that long after I started getting comfortable with sleeves, but before I was fully comfortable with zippers. 

I know the first version was before I could handle zippers, because I took out the zippers, since I was using a wool jersey. A wool jersey would normally work well for this, but the weight of it was so thin that it would rip if I looked at it wrong. I didn't even get to the point of putting in the sleeves before I threw it out in disgust.. 

Dress: 1
Me: 0

Version two would have been an awesome dress. It was in a jersey knit (because seriously, I wanted a knit dress), and all was going well until we got to the finishing work. Then, something went very, very wrong, and the zipper refused to close all the way because it was getting caught on thread -- despite having been fine when it was basted and then sewn in. I kept meaning to try again to fix it, but then I realized that OK, at my current size, it would be massively big anyway, so off to the WIP graveyard it went. 

Dress: 2
Me: 0

Pattern: Vogue 8442 (out of print)

The severely out of print status is the first indication of how long I've been trying. 

In general, I like this pattern. As the name suggests, it's easy -- but I don't know that it's as easy as the other Very Easy Vogues that I've done. By no means is the pattern any part of the reason why the dress took three attempts. 

One modification on this one: I didn't want to fuss with finding buttons I liked, so I sewed the sleeves straight and didn't add the cuffs. 

The size 14 was a little big, but as it was out of print, and I am cheap and didn't want to buy a new pattern for a dress I wasn't sure I could actually finish, I went with that. 

Fabric: Who knows

I had this fabric in stash, but have no idea what it was bought for -- a skirt, maybe? -- or even where I got it. I'm 90 percent sure it wasn't from Mood, so I think it was Joann. Maybe the clearance rack? Maybe regular. 

At any rate, it's a microsuede with embroidery. A very thick, dense fabric. Using an embroidery needle to baste in the zipper was an arduous task, and I broke several sewing machine needles trying to sew over seams and hems. 

If I get up the courage to make this dress again, I'd do it in a lighter fabric with a gentler drape. This is fine for fall and winter, but I'm not super thrilled with the denseness. 

Dress: 2
Me: 1

More from the Fairy!

I didn't intend to buy all this fabric. Promise. 

But there was a snafu with the original order, and in the process of trying to replace an item, I ended up ordering an extra four cuts, just so that I could have them and have stash fabric again. 

I figured I wouldn't worry, and just would try not to buy more until I travel later this year. 

Part II

I've really been trying to embrace prints more and more, and these two will take me outside my comfort zone a little more. 

I saw both of these when I was browsing some sale fabrics, and mentally tucked them away for when the right project arose. 

This fabric was really what started the stash buy. Honest. The associate told me they were out of stock, but it looked in stock online, so I figured since I had to have it, I'd try to order it... and see what happened! 

And it came!

I've been hemming and hawing, but I think this one is destined for Vogue 1348. Vogue 1397 was another contender, but it's got another fabric lined up now, in something that will drape a little better. 

But, ironically, the challis was in my cart before that. 

I loved this challis when I saw it, and knew it would be perfect for Vogue 1511.

This one will be for one of the later projects this year, since I'm not exactly dying for long-sleeved dresses in spring and summer. A perfect weight for fall, though!
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All in All, It's Just Another Brick in the Wall

So that thing about not having any major projects to do this year?

Yeah. My house didn't like that idea. 

I was all proud of myself this weekend when I got a "head start" -- I maintain that it's earlier than May, so it's a head start -- on doing spring cleanup outside. 

• Got the pre-emergent sprayed on the rock beds
• Did some far overneeded trimming on the shrubs
• Propped up the blackberry and raspberry bushes (and cheered that they were leafing!)
• Repaired the lattice work on my back fence (except for a piece that the deer destroyed and will go measure and buy that piece)
• Planted the new grapes

And then, when I walked around the side to the front to bring down branches, discovered this:

For the record, it didn't look like that on the preceding Thursday. 

I've learned more than I ever thought I could learn about retaining walls in the past 15 hours. Typical cost per square foot (sounds low at first, but OMG does that add up). Styles. Dry stack. Natural versus concrete. Different pre-fab companies. Different colors. How quickly it could take. Who my preferred landscaper usually works with. Who can actually do the job. 

All while pausing for a second to realize that yes, it is so stupidly expensive, but it's for the betterment of the house, and AT LEAST the upside is that no one got hurt -- not me, nor my neighbors' little kids, nor their dog. 

Don't get me wrong. I've hated this wall since I moved in. It's got to be at least 30 years old, is very obvious that it was not done professionally, and has had an obscene amount of moss on it. 

I just hadn't wanted to replace it yet, because these things are not inexpensive.

When I couldn't sleep Sunday night thanks to anxiety about "OMG I'm going to spend HOW MUCH money on a damn wall?" I realized that this was almost like the infamous crayon costume from my elementary years. 

Family policy -- and it was a good one -- was that a new costume was made on alternating years, and as long as the old one fit, it would be cycled in between. 

I was fine with the yellow crayon the first year I wore it -- either when I was 4, or in  kindergarten. But the second go around -- either first grade, or second grade -- I hated that costume. And if I'm remembering correctly, had no shame in telling everyone that I hated it. It was babyish, in my eyes, and even worse, it was yellow!

Crayon, take one

Cue Halloween night. I go trick or treating with my father, and boom. Face plant on an uneven sidewalk about 2/3 of the way through the neighborhood. Blood everywhere. On my face, and all over the costume. 

We go home, and my parents calmed me down. And I still remember, once the drama was over, a gentle teasing comment being made about how I hated the costume, but did I really need to destroy it? (That still to this day makes me laugh. I do not do things halfway!)

Wall, I hated you, but did you really need to go out so spectacularly?

Green Things!

It was hard to control the giggles when my physiotherapist asked me what I grew in my garden. 

"Um. Let's see. I've got about 100 seedlings going right now. So butternut and acorn squash, honeydew and watermelon, eggplant, tomatoes, peppers, and cucumbers. Outside I'll plant beans and peas direct to ground. And then I'm thinking beets, carrots, onions, and lettuce in a container inside the garden, since those are hard to keep weedfree.

For fruit, I've got a lime tree, a lemon tree, blackberry and raspberry bushes, a strawberry patch, two blueberry plants, and a fig tree."

Oh, and this year I'm trying asparagus, sweet potato, and grapes. I've ordered those plants."

There was a bit of silence before he started to call it intense, and I responded at the same time with "I'm hard core about this."

And that didn't include telling him about the extensive herb garden. Or the apple tree and the peach tree I've got in my backyard. 

Hard core may be an understatement. 

I start most of my plants inside from seed. I'll supplement from a local nursery once we get to May, and I've evaluated the successes and failures. 

I could stare at these seedlings all day long. It's just so amazing that I can plant something, and just four days later, they're poking up out of soil! And then, when I plant them and they produce vegetables, I'll be eating something that I quite literally grew and nurtured from seed.

My goal eventually is to be able to grow nearly everything that I need for produce from my backyard, and preserve it over the seasons. I've been fairly successful. I don't worry about lettuce, since I do like salads, but hopefully I'll get some traction this year with the onion and potato route. Sweet potatoes are supposedly easy, so I'll try those first,

Asparagus and grapes truly are new this year -- and they're the first up in planting. They've arrived, and I don't want to kill them, so they went in the ground this weekend. I have no idea what I'm doing with them -- and I certainly don't recognize that mess of roots as actual asparagus -- but I'm grateful that Burpee sends very good directions. (Their directions resulted in successful blackberries and raspberries, so something must work!)

The irony? I don't even like grapes. But I have the space, and I heard that they grew in our zone, so ... Well, it's like my usual approach to new things: "What's this red button do?"
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Creating an Oasis in Suburbia

When I was house hunting in 2013, my point of frustration was that finding a house in my price range with the backyard I wanted was next to impossible.

Sure. There were houses in my price range. But they had postage stamp yards that had no potential. Or there were houses with yards with potential ... but for far more than I'd ever be willing to pay.

And then this house came along. It needed work, for sure, but it was in my price range, and had that patio and backyard I wanted. And the screened in sunroom with skylights didn't hurt. 

A garden and patio was imperative for me. I wanted -- no, needed -- a patio where I could have a grill, and plants, and furniture. And I needed a place that although I was in the suburbs would be my little bit of quiet and calm. My little suburban horticulture hotspot, yes, but also my place to relax and think. 

Or not think. 

But enjoy a nice gin and tonic on the patio, for sure.

I started small, but this year, I think I've finally got a grasp on what I was picturing all along. I've got zoned seating areas, with actual outdoor rugs, and potted plants. 

I can't think of much else that needs to be added for this season. I've got my plants, the landscaping around the gardens -- including the Fort Knox set up to keep out those stupid rabbits that drive me crazy, and the right furniture for the patio.

From last season. More to come once it's not ... well, rainy and cold in Zone 6.

And OMG yay after years, I finally found the chaise lounge I wanted so that I can sit cross legged and read magazines.

Sidenote: I am still totally blown away by how expensive chaise lounges are. Most of them cost more than the table and chair combo! I'm so glad that not only was this one from Lowe's totally within my budget, but it also was a decent match to the existing set. 

About that Princess Thing

Ebates is a bad enabler.

I'd seen Nike was on Ebates a while back, and it looked like it would be good for getting some money back when it was eventually time to replace my shoes -- about 125 miles away, according to Runkeeper (although the app helpfully notes that I want to start looking now). 

I'm not a snob when it comes to running shoes, likely because I feel like I don't have enough experience to be a snob. So Nike is what works for me, and I'm happily brand loyalI've also always only bought my running shoes from the Nike outlet. I figure they last, and it's a good deal, so why be a princess. 

But late last year, I saw that you could customize running shoes for only $50 more than the base shoe... and once I knew that, all bets were off about going back to the outlet. Especially since I didn't really like any of the current model colors, and the idea of getting colors that I loved felt like such an awesome treat. 

With Ebates' April Fools' day cashback of 14 percent (and thanks, mother, for having your first reaction being to ask if it were a prank -- good to see that you think I'm that much of an idiot), getting those customized shoes suddenly felt like less of a splurge. And that's why I'll be getting new shoes delivered shortly after my birthday, instead of waiting until June or so to order them. 

Because really. Why shouldn't I sparkle as I run, and get money back for doing it?