Cameo24's Blog

Look at this vintage lovely thrift store find!

Bernina 831 circa 1971

Now to find out what she can do!




















A quilt for Peanut. Whether a boy or a girl. Sweet frogs, geometric snowflakes, and electric orange binding.









Time and distance…no this post isn’t about physics and their relative undeniability. Sure, some things in life are as undeniably finite and true. An object in motion tends to stay in motion and all that. But I find that daily life is much less definable. A little gray if you will rather than so black and white

And that’s how it has felt lately. A little gray. Sure, the weather and the inevitable glumness of winter has not helped.

As a child the passage of time was much less prevalent. At least in my mind. Spread out before me were milestones I couldn’t wait to hit. I couldn’t be old enough. Each birthday took so long to get to. And days spent with friends lasted forever days running around a baseball field, days filled with walking the Main Street of my tiny hometown arm in arm with friends on a pilgrimage to get a two scoop ice cream. Endless sleepovers filled with hours of conversations about boys, devising sophisticated rating systems for gauging the suitability and hotness of boys we liked. Pouring over Seventeen, Teen and sassy magazines taking all the quizzes and wishing we were as “put together” as all the teens showcased in urban settings. We small band of girls, S, and E and me inseparable since we were 5&6 respectively. And for almost 8 years there was J. We spent all our birthdays together. Made each other cakes and cards. We spent everyday together and more importantly every weekend together. But the 7 hour school days were torture as we followed someone else’s schedule and poured over assignments. S there were intricately folded notes passed between us between different periods. Notes that were filled with hopes, wishes, gripes, petty jealousies, worries about family, crushes, and secrets. Some of which I still have in a little memory box packed away. Still intricately folded in origami shapes. Filled with the bubble style printing and giant dotted “I”s that was so characteristic of all our writing.

Approaching graduation time began to speed up. Notes became less frequent and although the bond stuck there was an elephant in the room. We were all going to be going separate ways. S’s family had already moved away before grade 10 to a city 2 hours away. E, J and I still inhabited our tiny town and longed for the adventure and excitement that S must be experiencing that our town couldn’t provide. We spent less time together. Time seemed more precious. Shorter even. And after homework and part time jobs and after school activities there wasn’t as much time to just go for a walk and talk. Petty issues got bigger. Or at least they seemed to. Disagreements weren’t as easily resolved and weren’t forgotten the next morning. A distance came between us. Even though we sat beside each other in class and lived only a few blocks from each other.

Graduation came. No one spoke about what came after. Final exams. All a blur really. And the I moved to the closest major city leaving behind all those I knew for college. Distance became greater. Emails were infrequent. Daily notes were a thing of the past. Soon weekly emails became monthly. There would be long lulls of silence. E moved to the same city as S. And J stayed in our tiny hometown. Frankly we were all growing up. Time passed so quickly.

Here I am 11 years later trying to out into words how it all slipped away. How bonds so unbreakable were victims of time and distance. How years could pass without notice or contact, new jobs, graduations, boyfriends, birthdays and marriages all happened without witness and consistency that marked our youth. And the most finite thing of all time could happen without warning because time and distance separated it all.

J passed away Friday afternoon. Finite. Black. The end of her journey. Years of time and distance so large that S, E and I read the news on Facebook as if we were reading one of the folded origami notes of our youth. There it was. In print. Undeniable.

Sitting here I am filled with reminiscent memories and waves of guilt for my lack of communication. My lack of friendship. My lack of respect for the passage of time and the insignificance of distance. Thinking of J…knowing that she is not in pain anymore, but wondering if she was thinking back on her youth with wist. Longing for the simpler days. Wondering in Her very astute way how things could of been different.

So J although it has been years, I suppose I will speak to you in the only way that seems fitting through my words written as they were so many years ago. I will miss you. I will treasure your memory, the pictures of us at our many birthday parties, the folded notes, and emails. I can only hope that your passage of time was fulfilling and although much too short that you too treasured the marking of time with milestones and celebrations, memories and mementoes. That your last days were filled with those that were in your present, the thoughts of those that you were in your past. And you were comforted, congratulated, hugged and loved for the beautiful person you are and were to so many.

It always amazes me the feeling of renewal, anticipation, relief, anxiety, hope and life that springs from this time of the year. Out with the old and in with the new they say. Well I am quite content with the old and excited about the new.

2012 was an excellent year for hubs and I. 2013 is promising to be challenging, but with the right mind set incredibly rewarding as well.

Today also marks 1 year of blogging. Blogiversary?

The last days of 2012 were spent in holiday clatter. Travel, family, much food and celebration.





We were incredibly spoiled over the holiday with plenty of food and drink, family around, wonderful get togetherness with friends and gifts that were so unexpected, but delightful. Even Rubi was spoiled with stuffies and treats and her new dog bed which she is quite fond of.


We bought a few “couple” gifts to keep the home fires burning.



Home renovations are back in full effect and I am admiring the new slate entrance hubs so lovingly finished last night.


I am busying myself with plenty of new fabric for crafty makes, compiling my 2013 goal list, organizing, decluttering and making piles of donation items.

I welcome 2013 with all of the unknown it brings.

Now to my cuppa.




It is a very silent Sunday here this morning. The weather is very cold. -20C for those in the know. I am staring out my window at the frosted trees, and frozen looking vehicles all idle except one idling…puffing a grey cloud that hangs precariously.

Sunday’s for me are spent with a cup of coffee in my Pyrex of course and reading my long list of subscribed blogs. This morning I can faintly hear the rise and fall of the cats breathing who currently is cuddling my feet. The heavier snores of my hubby J who is sleeping in (finally) after a long day of ripping our front entrance apart.

While everything seems to be almost frozen in time outside, the inside of our house is constantly changing. By that I mean in a constant state of flux as we are renovating everything it seems. The basement has new floor, drywall and paint. The front entrance is missing floor, and a railing. It is in a word chaos.

And so I sit here. Very quietly, not wanting to disturb the little piece of quiet that I have. I know it will be short lived.

While there may be no Christmas decorations this year due to the disaster our house is, and the fact that we will be away for the holiday with J’s family, the Christmas prep has begun. Sewing, crocheting and my new obsession of soap making. I will post some pictures when I can.









Posted on: October 25, 2012

And today I am 29…not momentous, just another day, but that in itself was a gift.

And lovely sentiments from my hubs J. And the fur children of course.





I thought I would extend my last Silent Sunday post. A lot has been happening around here. Much like every fall. And like every fall I question my sanity. As well as the total capacity of my metal racking storage system in my basement.

I am always reminded of the fable of the ant and the grasshopper. If you haven’t read it, you should. Excellent life lesson about preparing for life in my opinion. I am the ant in that I prepare for the “hardships” of winter instead of lollygagging about. I also provide for some grasshoppers:)

Beginning last week and culminating on the weekend it was canning mode for this gal.

During the week I did the easy bi-annual task. Making mustard. I LOVE mustard. As a marinade, in dressings, and as an all purpose spread slathered on thick on a good sandwich.

I soaked the seeds for 72 hours. I has intended on 48 but…well things got in the way of my best intentions.


Add salt and turmeric to the soaked seeds (which double and triple in size) in a food processor and blend to desired consistency. In my case, not very much. I like whole grain and the popping seeds in my mouth.




Put in jars and water process for 20 min. Pray they seal.


I have heard that heat degrades the mustard flavour but I havent found this in my few years of making mustard. When all was said and done I had canned 18 jars.

Then on the weekend my mom and I went to the farmers market to get into the big stuff. The farmers market in our area is amazing at this time of year. And I love the opportunity to use my negotiation skills.

Our haul:


Canned tomatoes: end result 36 jars



I missed the peaches portion as it was late in the day and I was up to my elbows in peach skin. Canned Peaches end result 27 jars.

The Sunday I made jam. Which as
I am staring at the jars now did not set satisfactorily and are more “strawberry sauce”. I will use it anyway or perhaps dehydrate for fruit leather. Not sure which. Suffice to say, I dislike pectin.



A cute pic of my box loving tubby kitty Moo claiming a produce box:


The end of the weekend netted this display on my dining table.


And the ant rested….well for now anyway.