Cold SNAP!

There's a strange thing happening out here in ol' North Bend. I think people call it acclimating. I walk out in the mornings, into this wild cold-snap, where "warm" temperatures of 3o degrees are apparently laughable, and watch the patterns of my breathing trace thought bubbles in the sky. My fingertips looked ruddy and chapped, matching my lips, but there is something about that slap of icy air that keeps me coming back for more. I think I kind of like it.

ALSO: Pay no mind to the small vermillion stick in my freeze-dried fingers. It is most certainly not anything that rhymes with "dead ticklish" and even more certainly not something completely devoid of all nutritional value. It's probably just a stick, and a trick of the winter lighting making it appear reddish because I would never be caught with a guilty secret stash of licorice hidden behind the rice cakes and nutella that BC doesn't even know about and that I would sneak in the solitude of bachloretteish afternoons (if, of course, such a thing even existed). So keep moving, nothing more to see here.

Sliced Bread doesn't stand a chance!

Are you sitting securely, both feet firmly on the floor, back straight, elbows resting at your side?

Are you holding a steaming beverage, perhaps a perfectly frothed cappuccino or a maté latté?

I suggest you set it down.

Because I have one of the biggest announcements in the history of UmberDove and I'm ready to crack that egg of knowledge all over this blog (confession: I watch more "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" than is good for anyone).

But first, in the name of delayed gratification (which I am most certainly not a fan of, but occasionally enjoy teasing others with it), I want to introduce to you a newcomer to the flock:

"Unexpected Enlightenment" 4"x 4"

I really can't help it. The avian population here plays a very different game that those of the city. Here, good looks don't go as far. To survive these woods one must be terrible clever, surprising innovative, endlessly resourceful, genuinely gracious, and most of all, unshakably faithful. And these birds do it all with song on their black-tipped beaks. Every time I walk these fields I feel I take a chapter in their story, tuck it inside my 27 layers (good Lord it's cold here!), and read it over and over until I begin to understand.

SIGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

How I love my birds.

Oh!

That's right!

Now

where

was

I

?

With great flourish and enthusiasm (drumrolls, snowball-rolls, popcorn ball-rolls), I'd like to introduce to you my brand new Etsy shop:

UMBER DOVE STUDIOS

After much thought, debate, research and preparations, I've decided to open shop WHOOT! offering select prints of my work, original paintings and (as soon as they arrive via stork) collections of postcards. ZING! I couldn't be more excited YIPPADOO! about it (and just in time for the holidays I might add...) as you may be picking up. I'll be spending much of the day today listing up a storm BUT if there is a particular print you'd like to see, just let me know!

*****

To celebrate the grand opening, to thank all of you who have commented in the past, who have emailed words of encouragement and advice, who have supported me in all my ventures, I'd like to offer a contest. All you need to to is leave a comment on this post between now and Sunday December 13th, letting me know that you were here, and I'll drop your name into my fuzzy felted bowl for a random drawing. The lucky little bird whose name is drawn...

will receive

one print

of their choice

from my el shoppo!

I'll be drawing a name on Monday December 14th, so be sure to check back then!

Additionally, for all orders placed this week (Monday December 7th through Friday December 11th), I'd like to offer free shipping! Just leave me a note in the "messages to seller" box that you are a bloggy friend and I'll cheerfully refund you the shipping costs!

Whew.

What a morning!

Baby it's cold outside

the great white frost-hunter,

- Umber

On the Subject of Apronoscity

That may not be a real word.

But I'll tell you what is, or, more exactly, what three real words are:

Umber.

Dove.

Aprons.

(WHOOT!)

In case you were wondering, the answer is yes. My needle has been pulling some tricky stunts lately. Just when I think I've got it all figured out, an idea pops into my head and I've got to sweep everything off the table, choose some gaudy thread for experimenting, and create something new. Which is how I recently ended up with an apron-I-love-like-none-other. And wear everywhere.

Sorry Ladies, this one's staying home with me!

But this one is flitting over to my little shop of wonders pronto (or after I finish my turkey sandwich)!

It certainly took me long enough but I've finally begun digging into my precious stash of vintage fabrics. This baby features a charming floral swatch of flour-sack that has passed through the fingers of three generations of my family; my own baby blanket, a patchwork quilt strewn with the most amazing fabrics, includes quite a lot of this exact flour-sack. Cutting into that last remaining scrap of cloth and carefully stitching it, knowing another woman would wear this apron well, felt like the best way I could honor that lineage. I love the idea that years ago, one bit of fabric was used in the kitchen, washed and carefully folded in drawers, only to be cut, quilted and slept under by a child, later to be pressed and stitched into an apron. There is something about that handing down that resonates deeply with me and I understand that history in my bones.

All of that to say, an apron is thing of fabulouscity (also, perhaps not real). Three cheers I say!

Gratitude

The house is so quiet I can hear the buzz of the radiators

The sky offers watery bands of light through a milky gray haze

They break on the white-tipped grass and slide down ivy colored trunks

I feel a bit in a fog myself (12 hour drives will do that to you)

But I'm enjoying the stillness before torrent.

When the crunch of gravel welcomed us home (late, late Sunday night)

I was reminded, yet again, of just how much I have to give thanks for

I could easily begin that list and keep on shouting my thanks for days

But

What I really want to say

Right here

And right now

Is Thanks to

YOU

You, fabulous reader-friends, continually make my days a little bit brighter

Encourage me when I most need it

Make me laugh and snort into my coffee cup

Cause me to marvel and remember the beauty of humankind.

When I began this blog (truly, honestly, I only expected me mum to be reading)

I had no idea the friendships it would lead me to find,

Across town, across this continent, and across the earth

And for that I have no more words

Other than

Thank You

You really do mean the world to me.

Oh yeah.

One more thing:

Paul Bunyan agrees. We're tight like that.

Yeah, that really is the same booted foot in both photos! Trees of Mystery and Paul Bunyan? Sigh, I really do miss California somedays!