Life's Little Details: Knitting, Sewing, Green Living, Frugal Living and Cooking In A Little Corner of Southern French Countryside.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Our Little Princess

Originally uploaded by The Stitchin Sheep.
Oh, and she acts like it, too - but that's not what we're here to talk about.

I did some sewing yesterday. Nope, this photo has nothing to do with that. I just didn't take a picture of the skirt I made before giving it to the friend it was intended for. So, you won't get to see it, unless someday I get a picture of her when she happens to be wearing it. It's cute, though, and you'll just have to trust me on that. To top it all off, it's very "her", which pleases me to no end, since I picked out the fabric without her.

The picture you see here is to show you another thing I sewed long ago (for last Halloween, to be exact). I was and am so proud of this dress, which was probably my first real attempt at sewing something reasonably complicated. It's not perfect, but she loves it, and it has held up really well with all the wear and tear it's received since then. It'll soon be too small, I imagine, and we'll have to make another.

The other reason for this picture is to show off the new purse. This came in the mail yesterday all the way from Californ-i-a. She was thrilled to get mail and even more thrilled when she opened it to find this bag with some princess accessories inside. Thanks to our favorite American aunt and uncle! You hit the nail on the head here and made a very happy 4-year-old.

In other, more selfish news, I'm running head-on into a thirtieth birthday very soon. Ever read my "profile" on the right side of the screen? The place where I say I'm nearing thirty - that'll need to be changed. I'm not too frightened by the big 3-0. It's more a question of feeling a bit down about the fact that I've gotten through 30 years of my life without ever inspiring a good surprise party. Does that seem silly? Really, at this point, I don't even need that. It'd just be nice to have someone in this country know me well enough and care enough about me (oh, and be more thoughtful than my husband) to do a little something so that this landmark occasion doesn't go by unnoticed. It most likely will, though, and I'm trying to come to terms with that before the day hits me smack in the face with that realization.

See, were I at "home" as my mom still keeps calling the US for me, I'd have a small family gathering, where good ole mom would make sure there'd be a cake and some gifts. This birthday would not be forgotten. For that to happen here, it would entail me making my own cake (which I may end up doing) and lighting my own candles to blow out. There's something a bit saddening about that idea.

It reminds me of my first Christmas here, when I received a litany of anonymous gifts you could give anyone. They underlined the fact that no one here really knew me. In the six months that I had spent in and around my husband's family, no one had taken the time to ask the pertinent questions needed to learn enough about me to buy the appropriate, thoughtful gifts. The sting of those gifts - gifts without purpose or meaning - was unbearable. It was the only Christmas I've ever cried. I never felt farther away from home than on that Christmas morning.

Since then, things have changed. I've made friends. I've even made peace with my mother-in-law. In short, I've made a home out of my adopted country, whether it wants me or not. What I haven't appeared to have made is an impression. So, though our little prefab mess is home to me (even if I complain daily of having to live in it), nearing my thirthieth birthday has hit me with the realization that feeling at home 365 days a year is about the people you surround yourself with. And, unfortunately, home is still so far away.

So, Mom, and those who'd have had a party for me, break out the cake in my honor, will ya? It'd be much appreciated on this side of the Atlantic.