Fall garden wrap-up...

It is a balmy 50 degrees here and actual cold weather is nowhere in sight.  Seems to me I should wait to plant my bulbs until the weather is consistently chilly... otherwise they might sprout prematurely and suffer through the winter.  Or is that a bunch of malarkey?  My free sample bulbs, courtesy of Breck's, wait in the closet, although the iris bulbs are seeming a little wan and crunchy.  The lady fern seeds/spores/whatever are also looking a tad dusty, but we'll hope for the best.  I'll be interested to see which bulbs from last year make an appearance.  The perennials came back like champs, and the rhododendron showed signs of life.  Watching everything slowly disintegrate from my third story window.  In two weeks I can go dispose of the ravages of last summer's beauty.  Then it's Christmas lights.

Greetings... this is a first.

Is it strange to be an urban dweller (an über-urban dweller, even) yet have a secret penchant for handicrafts and the gentle household arts of yesteryear? I suppose not--seems like that kind of thing is terribly trendy these days--but for some reason among my friends I seem to be alone in my predilections.

I get antsy to make stuff with my hands. Baking is semi-forbidden in my house (alas, all we do is eat the things I make), so I'm stuck baking on behalf of others or for holiday gifts. But I can sew, do embroidery, kind of knit (okay, not really), and make stuff out of paper. I guess that's what I'm going to do on my blog, talk about the stuff I make and how my life relates to it, or the other way around. I'm making this up as I go along. The only reason I'm awake is because my son had a bad dream.