SouleMama

weekending

extending it

Oh - the return home after being away. I don't think it matters how short the visit away is - the piles of laundry, the empty fridge, the dirt and dust and grass and weeds that somehow pile up can sometimes feel a little overwhelming to return to.

Yesterday, with the boys still in the woods, I found myself at home with "just" two babies (three if you count the puppy, which I do. Oh, I certainly do). I will admit that for a minute there was a temptation to clean like crazy, run to the grocery store, (and on and on), with the 'help' of fewer little ones. But thankfully, that ridiculous notion was knocked out of my head by a very fabulous three year old who stood at the door just as I was about to begin vacuuming, and jumped up and down - towel in hand - singing, "I want to swim! I want to swim! Harper wants to swim! Harper wants to swim! Nellie wants to swim! Mama wants to swim!"

I was reminded right then that our wee little vacation just wasn't long enough. So I extended it. Which means exactly this: I ditched the vacuum cleaner (it's still in the middle of the room), went outside, cut a patch of grass in the yard big enough for a kiddie pool and a blanket - and there we plopped. With books, yarn, the pool and SUN (so nice to see you!), we vacationed all day long.

It was so good, I'm thinking I just might continue that vacationing all the way through today. Which means three things (besides the mountain of laundry will grow, and that likely I'll trip over the vacuum three more times):

1. It looks like Adelaide just might get her wish to "turn into a mermaid!"

2. I just might have a finished knitting project to show you tomorrow.

3. We will most definitely be having popcorn for dinner.

Cheers to extended vacations!

24 hours of sunshine

I've lived in this New England climate for my entire life - long enough to know to take full advantage when the sun does shine. I think that's one reason I love the summer so much - it is so fully lived and soaked in and appreciated - by everyone I see.

And so - in the middle of the wettest, rainiest, grayest month of June I can remember, when the sun does appear for an oh-so-brief but beautiful, blissful, warm twenty-four hour respite?

Oh, we sure do squeeze a whole lot of summer in:

weekending

a weekend - and a bag - for Papa

 
 
 
 

Despite the rain dampening all beach & boat plans, I'd say we did alright making a celebratory weekend for our special Papa. Chocolate cake, baseball, hammock hangouts, and rainy walks. Oh, and a little bit of handmade lovin' too. Art, poetry, a handmade baseball bat, and...a new yoga bag.

 

I made it to hold just exactly what goes with him to yoga ((he practices Bikram) - a rolled up yoga mat and towel, with pockets on the side for a water bottle, and another for keys and a wallet. It's reversible, and with linen and cotton, it's totally washable. I'm so happy to see him off to yoga now with a bag, instead of the bundle-it-all-under-the-arms strategy he's been employing for years (much to this "bag lady"s dismay).

Now....if these little monkeys giraffes can just let sweet Papa out the door, he'll be on his way to sweet, happy yoga bliss.

I hope your father's day and solstice weekend was lovely!

summer weekend lovin'

:: tenting. in the backyard. in the rain.

:: family bbq's and the obligatory family photo shoot with the always-fabulous outtakes (always better than the posed).

:: yard sales resulting in my new favorite vintage glasses - perfect for holding a new favorite summer drink (rhubarb soda, white tequila, and lime juice. It needs a good name).

:: Hopping from baseball game to baseball game. Stopping only for ice cream.

:: a garden and a house and a table full of the treats of the early summer growing season - rhubarb, greens, and oh, those lupines.

:: amazing new achievements celebrated.

:: checking long put-off house projects off the to-do list. I have a new front door, a tree planted outside, and a new toilet seat. Um, what more could I want?

:: "summer kitchens" - visited long enough for a flurry of cooking before heading back out. Cleaning happens...some other time (when it rains?).

:: same story in the studio.

:: the best bouquets in the whole wide world.

I think it's funny that a weekend comes every seven days...and yet. And yet it still always feels like 'An Event'. I think I've decided that June weekends are my favorites. I'm pretty sure of that.

I hope yours was a lovely event too!

at home

My goodness - I am such a homebody. It wasn't until there were some clothes on the line, dough rising, and a bunch o' black beans soaking on the counter top that I took a deep, deep sigh and settled on into home yesterday. 

And then...I wound some yarn (Ottawa by Handmaiden, from Lettuce Knit in Toronto - can't wait to knit this pretty stuff up), and all felt right with the world.

My little ones were feeling the same way. I hardly saw any of them yesterday, as everyone scattered about to their respective corners and engaged themselves in all-day long solo projects (minus the one on my back pulling my hair, and the furry one below nipping at my ankles). Ezra spent the day working on a little installation for my studio wall. Baseball cards - and will you look at who's the centerpiece there? Himself, of course. I expect I'll be watching this installation grow today.

I do love home.

yesterday's work

:: cleaning up the yard.

:: brushing up on their car games.

:: putting the last seedlings in.

:: and a few more.

:: making a new travel bag for Mama (pattern from Weekend Sewing).

:: plotting a course (but no, we're not going to Greenland).

:: and wielding a clipboard - making lists and making plans.

What are these all signs of?

We're going on vacation!

We are so looking forward to unplugging and heading to the White Mountains of New Hampshire tomorrow. Amidst some visiting and exploring with my family, I'll be speaking at Squam Arts Workshop on Friday night for workshop attendees. And on Saturday night, there's a Revelry Fair open to all (see here for more details). I'm looking forward to meeting some of you there!

I'll be back here at the first of the week. Wishing you a beautiful start to June!

this season

 

Pictures of our spring season would be incomplete without a little bit of our baseball season. This year, we've entered the busy world of baseball and T-ball, and coaching to boot. And a fourth just willing herself to be four - the age at which she can play on her own team.

Oh, baseball. I never thought it would become such a part of my life. But it has (oh, the things these little ones teach us)...and I love it. I love watching them huddle around the radio at night for a Red Sox game. I love watching one of them so amped up and excited to play his Little League game that he can hardly sleep the night before a game. I love watching the others tap dance of excitement on first base, second base and every base and position on the field. I love watching my son wrestle with a ridiculous amount of over-sized gear to play his favorite position behind home plate. I love watching my children interact and play on a team with kids they've never met before. I love watching their sister chant (loudly) their names from the stands. And I love watching their Papa coach - in a game he's always loved so much.

Though I must admit -my favorite games? They're still the ones in the backyard before dinner, in which they all dress up in long johns ("baseball pants", of course), use cardboard boxes for the bases, keep score with chalk on the side of the swing set, and cheer each other on. Yup, those are the best games of my season.

 

Nellie!

 

Meet Nellie!

Our 7 week old lab/great dane/who-knows-what-else rescue pup. She's been here for just a few days, but it already feels like she's been a part of our family forever.  She is adored, doted on, and only slightly smothered in love.

We're so glad she's here!

what I'm enjoying, right now

:: Calvin's woodchuck "trap". Hey - it could work.

:: This very exciting full-family craft project (to be revealed oh-so-soon!)

:: eating dinner outside each night

:: the arrival of this fabric (princess and the pea!!!) from the far, far away line



:: waking up with lilacs at my bedside



:: watching Harper giggle through the sibling puppet/dance/song/music shows



:: the smell of apple blossoms



:: rhubarb pie, rhubarb soda, rhubarb tartlets and rhubarb crisp



:: Putting something new into the ground each day



:: dandelion wishes



:: Did I mention the rhubarb pie?

handwritten

Our house is littered with notes. Pieces of paper of all sizes taped and tacked and tucked everywhere. Things they want to remember. Projects they've begun. Lists. Stats. Names. Half-finished letters. Declarations.

I step on paper, every table is cluttered with paper, and I look in the mirror and see paper. But just as I begn to shout, "Please stop taping your name to the bathroom mirror!" I (try to) remember:

Soon her "E's" will have just three legs. Soon every "S" will be turned the right way. Soon his cursive will look like that of an adult. Soon "fancy letters" will become more rare. Soon all that fabulous phonetic spelling will be changed.

And suddenly, these things that threatened to clutter my house and my head just moments earlier, have transformed into precious artifacts and sweet reminders from these days.

the latest and greatest

I think I'm onto something here - the latest and greatest in baby gear (or at least for those born of crafty Mamas).

Harper has a new-found complete and utter adoration for the swift. Laying underneath it, he stares as it spins - mesmerized. He giggles hysterically with arms and legs all flapping, like it's the funniest thing he's ever seen. He stops to look up at me - just to be sure I see it too. And that I get the joke. Which I do, of course. I really do.

Sometimes I do wonder about the kinds of memories my kids will have from their childhood. Odd - perhaps.  But hopefully good.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

on Mama's Day

I'm still recovering from being slightly spoiled yesterday by these four cuties (and their amazing Papa). A day spent with them - breakfast in bed, homemade presents and hand drawn cards, a clean house and the ocean. What more could a Mama want? I can't think of a thing. I feel lucky.

I hope everyone's day was special and full of love - either as a mama, as a mama-to-be, or with the special mamas in your life. I sure wish the entire globe celebrated it on one same day. Can you imagine the collective power that could generate by honoring Mothers all at once? Hmn, might move the world, I tell you. 

A few Mother's Day thoughts still on my mind this morning:

• the original Mother's Day Proclamation by Julia Ward Howe. I'm reminded to read it each year, and always moved by doing so.

• You can never have too many mothers. On our evolutionary need for support as mothers.

• At My Place, Every Day is Mother's Day by Scott Simon, about his wife. It's sweet.

Have a beautiful day, friends!

spring emerging

It's been a wet and rainy week around here, which looks to be continuing for a few more days to come. So our work and play has come back inside. With adventurous treks out in the rain, and quick dashes into the sun whenever the rain takes a little rest.

Calvin came in after one wet, soaky trip to the trees yesterday and remarked, "Every time I go out, it's like there's something new out there!"

Indeed! This is the time of year - everything is coming to life. And even more so with all this rain speeding up the growth process. The flurry of activity with the people seems to mimic that of the plants as well - so very much going on.

people::

 

 

 

plants::

 

 

 

 

SoulePapa is in tomorrow. And then I'll be back on Monday. I hope you all have a wonderful few days!

her weekend list

The (older) boys took to the woods this weekend, leaving Adelaide, Harper and I all alone. (I say as if I really wanted to sleep on the ground in May in Maine with an infant. And the black flies. Ahem. Really it's all about the black flies - I'll join them in a month. The infant is just my excuse. Shhhh.)

After the flurry of getting everyone out the door, I looked to Adelaide in the quiet of the house and said, "Well. It's you and me! What should we do?"

And true to her style - this fellow Virgo daughter of mine - she took a deep breath, put her hands on her hips and with a long drawn out "Weeeell...." began to rattle off her list. It went just like this, in her words:

1. Move furniture! (Is there any doubt she is my child?)

2. Paint our fingers and toes. (We like the ingredients in this stuff.)

3. Eat cookies. (Recipe courtesy of Maria.)

4. Find dead bugs for my collection! (We found a living toad. She was happy with that.)

5. Make something for Banjo-Kitty. (A new cushion for him to sleep on in her room.)

6. Play with Harpie-Pie. (He obliged by being her first mate.)

And there you have it. It was a fabulous list. And a great weekend.

I hope yours was too!

weekend signs

open windows :: open toes :: green grass :: garden cleaning :: music on a blanket :: flowers outside & in :: baseball :: peepers at night :: a new (to us) bicycle :: the first margarita of the year :: birds all around :: sun hats :: evening light :: laundry on the line :: running to the sea

Spring is here!

beautifully ordinary

 

 

* the peace of a baby drifting to sleep in my arms
* spring morning sun shining in
* the tip-tap tapping of tap shoes (and the singing and laughter that follows)

Peace is present right here and now, in ourselves and in everything we do and see. The question is whether or not we are in touch with it. We don't have to travel far away to enjoy the blue sky. We don't have to leave our city or even our neighborhood to enjoy the eyes of a beautiful child. Even the air we breathe can be a source of joy.
Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace is Every Step

What beautiful ordinary/simple things have you found joy in today?

monday musings

 

I hope you all had a marvelous weekend! Ours included family & friends, snacks on the porch, walks in the woods, a little bit of crafting and a lot of chocolate. The good things in life, yes?

Also! Quite exciting weekend news: the very last bit of snow in our outside view has melted! (Well, if you're getting technical, there's still plenty in the woods.) We had a little family contest on the "melting day" for said last-pile of snow. Steve won (I was quite optimistic with my March 15th guess). Our April birthday, Easter, Equinox, the melting snow....all of this means that spring really is here - hooray!

Some spring-like things I'm looking forward to this week...

• seeds & soil, and getting started on spring garden work
• packing up the snowpants, ice skates, skiis, and boots. Yes!
• finishing one of the projects photographed above
• a forecast that appears to be full of sunshine
• four more days 'til Ani's in town!
• seeing what "new" birds might visit our feeders this week
• perhaps a trip to the beach? Oh yes. Surely a trip to the beach.

Wishing you a lovely start to your week! What are you most looking forward to from the days to come?

An Art Party!

 

"Six" might be one of my favorite ages for birthday parties (remember the medieval party?). Six is such a great combination of imagination, innocence, and ability, I think - so great for doing fun things at parties.  Ezra decided - oh, back in November - that he wanted an Art Party for his birthday this year. An art party? Oh goodness. Yes, please! (said his Mama). Every surface in this little house was covered in some kind of art-making. There was space for collage onto wood boards, air-dry clay, and acrylic painting on canvas (including the big canvas that everyone worked on for the birthday guy). Merriment and making happened by the artists of all ages here.

The crafting you saw in progress yesterday were the apron gifts for our child guests, complete with an artist mannequin in the pocket (or a "Dude Man" as they're affectionately called around these parts). I used rubber stamps with a fabric-safe ink pad. I tried a few test rounds in the wash and it seemed to hold up okay. It was fun - and a great way for Ezra to be involved in the process with me.

He was overheard telling a friend while painting, "Oh! I'm so interested in making art, I almost forgot this was my birthday party!" It felt like the perfect way to celebrate this art-making, ukulele-loving, tap-dancing, comic book-reading sweet boy of ours.

My sink still looks exactly like it does in that last photo (with the addition of breakfast dishes), and we've got a few more days of good fullness in front of us. I'm guessing some of you do too with the holiday coming up, so I'm going to wish you well and sign off until Monday. See you then!

right now

The next few days are shaping up to be quite "full" around here, which is always an important time for me to remember to stay present and grounded in the here and now. And so...

Right now, I am....

eating :: peanut butter and toast;

feeling :: quite tickled to "know" so many people who appreciate the fabulous-ness of peanut butter + bread + vintage linens the same way I do;

listening :: to the beautiful sound of Gregory Alan Isakov, whose music I just can't stop playing after seeing him open for Brandi Carlile last week;

watching :: the very last bits of white wintry snow be replaced by the first signs of a white flowery spring;

loving :: watching Harper discover the power of his reach, the sight of his toes, and the effect of his giggle;

plotting :: how I'm going to peacefully enter and most importantly - exit - the art store today with four children without buying anything except the mat I need cut (while simultaneously concealing from the birthday boy the print for which I need a mat) - hmmnn...;

thinking :: about six years ago tomorrow, when this magical, sweet, and loving little boy gently entered and forever changed our lives and hearts;

hoping :: I can get all the birthday party crafting/cooking/cleaning done in time for tonight's party.....and if not, that I can peacefully let it go in enough time to enjoy;

and, wishing :: you a lovely Wednesday!

snapshots

 

Yesterday was one of those days. If you're a parent, or even if you remember having a parent, I bet you know just how those kinds of days can go down. Some days there are a few bumps and then other days, for no apparent reason, the road is so bumpy with challenging moments that you just can't quite catch your breath.

There are lots of great writers - of blogs and books - for whom those kinds of days can spark a creative flurry. I totally get that for some writers, sometimes, that's where their Mama-writing-inspiration strikes, and the writing is what gets them through those very moments. I read their often-hysterical, usually-comforting words of the darker underbelly of parenting, and am grateful for the intimate stories they tell in the spirit of motherhood.

But for me, that's just never been what I'm inspired to write about. It's really as simple as that. It's not how or why I write. 

There are so many things that get us through the days of parenting (because sometimes it's about soaring and some days it's truly about 'getting through'). A reassuring phone call to a spouse or a friend. The arrival of the sun at just the right time in the day. The sweet teachers we have in our children. The promise of an evening of creating in peace. The mindful mantras taped to a mirror and repeated as necessary (while ignoring the dirty mirror around it). And yes, sometimes by eating a pint of ice cream, locked alone in the bathroom at 9 o'clock in the morning, breathing deeply and trying to restore some sanity with which to continue the day mindfully, and with patience. (What? You've never done that?)

This blog, you see, is one of those things for me. It's a meditation of sorts. It's one of the ways in which I remind myself of the joys, the beauty and the blessings around me each and every day. Writing here helps me to remember. And it helps me to see and look for those things, people and moments which do bring me joy. Writing about them helps me hold onto those moments. And I find myself wanting and making more space and opportunity for these kinds of moments to enter our days...and my heart. You see how that works? It's a silly little ridiculous joy-addiction that feeds itself.

I rather like it. It's one of the ways I get through my days.

I think I've tried to say all of this in many different ways over the years, and I still don't know as though I've been successful at doing so. I know the consequence to the particular 'style' of my writing could lead one to think there is nothing buy joy, and peace, love and knitting needles in my life - if you choose to read/see it that way.

What you see and read here are snapshots. Real, honest, true and sometimes deeply personal snapshots that capture parts of my life and how I see it.  But a snapshot is never complete or 'whole' of anything. I've never thought of my blog as a journal - this isn't the locked up diary at my bedside. Of course there are days when I'm just trying to get through. Of course. The thought that anyone could think/say that what I've got going on here isn't real or honest, or that what I write makes them feel inadequate - well, that just about breaks my heart. Because that's the last thing I've ever wanted from this space. My goodness...quite the opposite, my friends. I write for me, but I hit "publish" each day in the hopes that somehow - someway - these little ramblings of mine could inspire you to look for, to follow, to perhaps even create a moment of joy and beauty in your own day.

So what I was saying (I'm going for the record of Longest Blog Post ever here today)....Yesterday - one of those long and nutty days of mess and chaos - never really let up. It grew and snowballed all day long until bedtime, when I found myself slinging Harper and reading to the boys. Rocking back and forth amidst the mess on the floor that hadn't been cleaned up from the day, my mind was racing with discouraging thoughts of how the day had gone...and overwhelming lists of things I still had yet to do.  And just about then...well, just then I tripped on one of Ezra's colored pencils - banana peel style - and landed squarely on my butt on the floor.

And just as I was deciding whether I was going to cry (and give up) or laugh (and give in), Harper stopped crying. And the boys started laughing.

And then Calvin said this to me:

"Mom. Can you even believe he's here? Like, before he was born, we went more places and stuff. But now? Now we have the coolest person in the world right here! With us! Every day!"

I've never heard anything more true in my life. Except that it's multiplied times four. 

My days (and hands) are full in the truest sense of that word.

Thank you, friends, for joining me on this ride.

keeping it all together :: the family board

With the addition of The Family Board - our newest family craft project - this little corner in our dining room just got a little more cluttered with the "stuff" of our days. But hopefully, this is clutter of the peace-making, flow-producing kind. I think it is. 

It's a basic cork board, with linen fabric stapled tautly over it. I used a sweet bird fabric from good-ness for the pockets, and included some button tacks I made inspired by Button It Up.

It's purpose is...well, to help us keep a little more organized about our weekly tasks, goals and activities. We began by all talking about and writing up index cards with the household tasks that need attention and care on an everyday/weekly basis. The kids drew pictures and wrote the task, and then laminated the cards. (I have one of these for laminating. Certainly not a life necessity, but ridiculously fun.)

The pockets - one for each babe - are where the cards go. The fifth pocket is for "extra" chores - those above and beyond the everyday and weekly chores, than can be done to earn money if there's interest from the kids (and oh, is there interest in that). Above the pockets is space for tacking the weekly dinner plans and a grocery list - all things the kids really, really like to be a part of knowing and planning. It also seems to be a good place for putting our goals and hopes for the week. Cleaning the shed, going to the skate park - you know, priorities like that - all of equal importance when you put them on pen and paper.

Talking about it like this makes it sound a bit more structured and rigid than it really is. It actually flows quite nicely - starting with our Sunday dinner at which we switch the tasks around for the coming week, and talk about what might be happening in the week to come. This little board - so far - has eliminated a lot of confusion and discord by giving us all a bit of clarity and a visual reminder of what needs to be done to make the house run smoothly. It's resulted in a bit more peace, and rhythm to our work. And somehow - it makes it all just a little bit more fun.

i love...

 

 

I love...

solo dates with my kids
our art museum
big quiet open rooms full of light and art
hearing his thoughts
his art
his heart
that boy.

everyday treasures

The way his four tiny fingers rest ever-so-gently atop his nose, while his thumb is securely and sweetly inside his mouth. Like this, he watches the world of home around him. I want to remember this.

We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.
--Thornton Wilder

What's an everyday treasure in your life right now? Say it outloud. Write it down. Draw it. Photograph it - even if only in your mind. Live it.

tap shoes, not soup

For the first time in a week, there were three of us at the dinner table last night. Progress!

Oh my. It's been a crazy eight days. Crazy, like in The Little House on the Prairie when they all have Malaria (or what they called "fever and ague") and are unable to do anything besides moan in misery in bed beside each other. (Does anyone know what I'm talking about?) It felt like that. Sure, it was the flu and not Malaria. And yeah, so we had electricity and all that. And we never actually feared for our lives. So maybe it was nothing like Little House at all. But six of us all sick at once? It was indeed epic in it's own way, I tell you. Epic.

When my appetite returned, it returned in the middle of the night with a holler for chicken stew. Chicken stew with lemons and ginger. So I made some (and liked it) and had every intention of sharing my recipe with you here today. It was all written up and ready to go....until this morning when I mentioned that intent to the boys. They gave each other a sideways glance.

"What?!!" I asked.

"Nothing!" they replied and giggled knowingly to each other.

Turns out they didn't like my chicken stew. (It also means that someone has actually been hearing me when I plead with them, "Please don't say 'yuck' when dinner is on the table." Who knew they were listening to me?) And since there were only three of us at dinner, two of whom give it a thumbs down, I'll give this stew a few more rounds before I send the recipe out of our house (I loved it!).

Instead, I'll tell you the one remedy we did all agree on: Tap Dancing. Singing in the Rain, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, and Gene Kelly (on rollerskates!), and on and on. (Because oh yes, the TV made it out of the closet this week.)  Really, you just can't help but feel a little bit better after watching those guys dance. I think when this thing finally clears, my boys have grand plans of taking their tap-dancing show on the road. And I think there are two pair of tap shoes buried deep in the dress up basket that will fit them just right. Just as soon as this headache clears, I'll look...

Winter Manifesto :: complete

A Winter's Manifesto ::

1. Follow the sun wherever you find it. Rejoice in the slowly-growing-longer days.

2. Make Stuff.

3. With gratitude for the labor of summer and fall, do everything in front of the fire. Morning, Noon, and Night.

4. Get out there everyday, no matter how cold or quick the visit may be. Through crunchy snow underfoot and breath-warmed wool on your face, remember the magic and wonder of it all. Try not to take it for granted.

5. Shake things up, change the scenery, and Get out of Dodge.

6. Wool. Flannel. Capilene. Know them. Love them. Layer them.

7. Gather often with friends. To commiserate. To laugh. To warm the spirit.

8. Savor the memories and bounty of past seasons harvest. Plan and dream for the one yet to come.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that, I do think, wraps up my little Winter Manifesto. I didn't realize it as I was writing them, but I'm pretty sure they could be applied to my year-round goals for living. (With a little more sand and maybe a new pair of shoes thrown in there too. How did I forget the uplifting power of new shoes?) We've had a couple of balmy days here - in the thirties. And while I know there are likely still blizzards and more snow and ice and cold yet to come for us this winter...those few moments of being outside comfortably, of opening the windows...it was just what I needed. A timely physical reminder that spring will indeed come again. But for right now? We have some more snow to play in and enjoy...and some cold days to cozily hibernate through. I'll be visiting my Winter Manifesto often for the reminders.

Thanks for listening and watching (I'm hoping those icy photos cooled some of you down in the opposite hemisphere!), and thanks for playing along if you did in your own way. If you've been thinking about this, too - tell me - what's in your Winter Manifesto?

Winter Manifesto :: no. 8

 

 

 

Number Eight ::

Savor the memories and the bounty of the past season's harvest.

Dream and plan for the one that is yet to come.

Winter Manifesto :: no. 7

 

 

Number Seven ::

Gather often with friends.

To commiserate. To laugh. To warm the spirit.

(yarn, wine, and/or ice cream make it all the sweeter.)

Winter Manifesto :: no. 6

 

 

Number Six ::

Wool. Flannel. Capilene.

Know them. Love them. Layer them.