Things I sent to Meredith: Nests Edition
March 11, 2009 § 1 Comment
My mother turned sixty back on February 27th, and she casually reminded my sister and I back in December that 60 was a big birthday, you know, just in case we wanted to plan anything big. My mother is very much like me (or I guess, in this chicken/egg scenario, I’m like her) in that she’s always expecting a big surprise. You can imagine how depressing our lives are, always expecting some gift, visit, vacation, party, trip, prize, revelation. I’ve had ONE surprise party in my life, and my mom has had about three I think, but this birthday, we surprised her big time, by not showing up on her birthday at all, but sending an adorable little token from etsy, a handmade card and a video from her granddaughter saying happy birthday.
THEN. We showed up on March 6th. It was so great. My mother squealed with delight when her granddaughter greeted her at the door after work. We had a wonderful time.
The real challenge in all of this was finding the “token” gift that would throw my mother off the trail and also bring a tear to her eye with its symbolic-ness. I set Meredith on the search with me, our parameters set on “ETSY ONLY” and “NOT TOO EXPENSIVE BECAUSE I ALSO BOUGHT TWO ROUND TRIP TRAIN TICKETS AND $50.00 WORTH OF KAYAK RENTAL FOR HER”.
We both ooohed and aahhed at the simplicity of this nest of eggs from Blue Pearls. I am such a sucker for bird nests, nesting, nestling, I want to fill my home with bird nests. (Even now I hear Brian pinching the bridge of his nose, ‘oh god, not another collection’)
And of course, the Nest Oil Paintings series over at Drunken Cows really floats my boat, but they were way out of my price range for a birthday gift, and more MY style than my mom’s style. This one in particular is calling out to me, begging to be in my living room:
Finally, I settled on an adorable mother and child nest of birds from Fairie Bling similar to the one pictured here.
Of course in all my futzing and searching and hemming and hawing, I had like two minutes to get the package to my mother, but big ups to tizib, the creator/artist/muse behind Fairie Bling for helping me by packaging up the nest beautifully and shipping it priority mail and tracking it for me all week. THAT’S the kind of service, devotion and emotional investment you get when you shop handmade. I got news for you, Target doesn’t give a rat’s behind if your mom’s birthday is tomorrow, you’ll get the Giant Framed Clock that’s always in the housewares aisle when they’re good and ready to send it to you.
Cathe’s blogs (she also does Just Something YOU Made, which is just a blog of tutorials from readers) are quickly becoming my favorites to peek in on each day. Creative, simple, whimsical, thoughtful and fun. Stop by!
And of course in the spirit of families, motherhood and cuteness, someone directed me to the world’s best, cutest blog: Zooborns the cutest newborn animals from zoos and aquariums around the world. My head began buzzing and vibrating by the third picture, and when I got to the Fennec Fox, it just exploded in a pinata style rainstorm of glitter and cute animals.
It was good to see Zooborns this morning, along with a new addition to my Netvibes feed page Picture Is Unrelated, because I was feeling particularly heartbroken and homesick on the last leg of the trip home from Rochester yesterday. It was such a rejuvenating trip for me. I hate late Winter so much, so a little punch in the arm is just what I needed. It felt good to ask Mom “When’s Dinner?” like I always did, or to hear my father’s nightly wish for a ‘small piece of pie’ when there was no dessert forthcoming. I liked hearing mom and dad say goodnight to me as I read my book in my old double bed.
We were wiped out when we got on the train at 11:10 at night, and the two of us zonked out within minutes. When we woke up, somewhere near Elkhart, Indiana and the sky was the color of cigarette smoke, spitting out rain that sent up fog from the ground that sped by. We watched as farmland turned to trailer park, then to run down homes with boarded up windows and yards that looked like construction sites or junk yards. We sped towards Gary, through industrial mazes and a junkyard of smashed, gutted cars piled three stories high. The fog burned off and the trees and yards, what little there were, were replaced by the tangle of expressways and green highway signs signaling our entrance to Chicago. Graffitti covered every surface, people tramped through the mud and rain, waiting at bus stops, huddled inside their jackets, wondering what it all meant. I thought about Charlotte taking a walk with my father and finding three little pinecones to put in her pocket, or playing in the front yard with fallen branches from the pine trees by the door. Charlotte asked to go see Gramma as the train pulled into the station and I smiled at her and gave her a hug saying,
“Grandma’s not here right now, but we’ll see her in a few weeks. I promise.”
It made both of us feel better.