the peacoat papers

farewell, peacoat. you've been good to me.

I have been blogging for about a year and a half here at The Peacoat Papers, but have never been able to stretch my wings the way I wanted.  This blog started as one thing, turned into another, but never felt quite right. 

With a new name, a new look, and ideas I’ve sat on for far too long, I hope you enjoy my latest project.  Please click through to Hollywood Housewife!

(psst...make sure you update your bookmarks, re-subscribe, and change your settings if you link to me from your blog.  Many thanks!) 

 

rocky mountain high

 

This is the view out our balcony door on the annual family ski trip.  

So you'll forgive me when I say I taking the week off of blogging.  I have family to love on, all this beauty to take in, and mountains of preparation for peacoat's migration to the new and improved space next week.

That's right, peacoat is officially making the Big Change next Monday, January 11.

Please stick around - you're going to love it. 

christmas cards '09 - the big scream

I can't say our decorations are all put away, but Christmas '09 is definitely over.  Which means there is no reason to get excited about going to the mailbox for fun holiday greetings. 

There seemed to be a lot less cards out this year, did you think?  Or maybe our family just got cut from everyone's list.

Every single year I swear that I'm not going to do Christmas cards next year.  They're a big ole pain, and I start off whistling and chipper and end up grumbling and annoyed.  This year was no exception. 

But in the end, I'm happy with the way they turned out.

Conceptually, I always start with a picture.  It's the most important part.

Then I choose the paper, which sets the color scheme.  I usually go with Paper Source, since they have a good weight to them and a fantastic color selection.  

I went with green and gold.  A nice combination, I think.  But tell me something: why do the cards come in packs of 20 and the envelopes in packs of 10?  This is completely baffling to me.

Next I sit down and hand write the highlights from the year.  It's my modern version of a Christmas letter.  It usually takes me several tries to get the spacing right without any mistakes.  I'm proud to say that this year I did it on the first take.  

Even the Kinko's guy was impressed.

The Kinko's people think I'm crazy every time I wander in with a new project.  I utilize Kinko's a lot.  This year I had them copy my hand-written words into the inside of each card.

In the meantime, I've ordered these stamps from Zazzle, and hope fervently that people notice them.  Would I notice a fancy (funny) stamp on an card envelope?  I'm not sure.  Zazzle leads me to believe other people appreciate such nonsense.

 

The inside is the hardest part.  Every year I try to do something original.  This year I've been in the mood for spray paint.  

So I made a stencil.

I just took a piece of heavy white cardstock and wrote the words Merry Christmas in thin block letters, then used an exacto knife to cut out the letters.  To be precise, you have to be very careful.  It takes longer than you think.

I left the "A" without the little triangle-y part.  It was going to be too hard to keep it in, so I decided that it added a little charm.   

I tested out the stencil using the same weight card stock as the cards will be.

It looks pretty good.  So I set up my "station" and do my first run on the Kinko's-printed cards.  I use newspaper underneath, and rocks to weigh it down.

 

I get about thirty done until the stencil starts to curl under the moisture of the layered spray paint.  It's tacky, but not super wet, so I put it under a heavy book to flatten out overnight. 

That was stupid.  The next morning I woke up to this.

 

So I had to start over with the stenciling/spray-painting.  My Christmas cheer was starting to wane.  

On the second stencil, I added an exclamation point so it said, "Merry Christmas!"

I still had 100 cards to spray, so I took a break and worked on the envelopes.  I stamp the front with a little red ornament stamp next to the address, and this year I embossed the return address on the back myself.

Because I make a lot of custom cards, it becomes really costly to have the return envelope printed every time.  So this year I invested in a desk embosser from Paper Source.

After I get all 130 cards sprayed and dry, I attach the picture to the front with double-sided tape and add the photo corners.  This usually means I sit in front of the television for hours on end watching a marathon of something-or-other.  It takes For-Ev-Ah.

Almost as long as hand addressing each card and writing a personal note inside.

Are you gouging your eyes out yet?  I'm not.  I actually like this kind of thing.  

In the end, the card looks like this:

 

 

See the paint on the edge of the card on the left?  Or how the stencil bled a little on the "M" and the "A" ?  I don't sweat those kind of imperfections.  It lends itself to the handmade look.  

I got good feedback on the cards this year.  Sometimes that makes it worth it.  But most of the time I'm way over it by the New Year.  I've got to figure out a way to make it easier, yet still be original with at least a trace of homemade. 

I guess I've got a year to figure it out. 

peacoat is a-changin'

What is it with me and the November blog identity crisis?

Things are changing around here, much more than the little tweaks I've made in last six months.  Writing and blogging have become more important to me, and now is the time to make the changes that have been bouncing around in my head for months now. 

There will be a new name and a new look, but the content of peacoat will stay the same.

Speak now or forever hold your peacoat!  If there are things about my blog that you particularly love and would hate to see go, or things that have always sort of bugged you about my layout or font, now is your time to weigh in.  Please leave a comment or email me directly.

Good things are happening.  I can't wait to show you!

craft fabric

Jules is moving north.  Away from smoggy LA.  I'm happy she's getting a fresh start, sad that she's going far away when our friendship was just getting started.

But she gave me all this fabric.  So I can't be too mad at her.

 

The best part about moving is that you get to purge things like vintage fabric from your garage.  It's going to a new home, a new garage.  But I have all sorts of crafty ideas for it.

(But I won't let my mom near it.  She's a fabric hoarder.  As in, a whole closet devoted to fabrics she just...collects.  It's a disease.)

The possibilities are endless.  Any ideas?

quick journaling

I have kept a journal since I was in the eighth grade.  (And right now, my father is cringing and fainting because I have admitted here on the world wide web the existence of these journals.  Which means I could never deny it were I called to testify in court someday.  This is how my family thinks.)

As an adult, I often go weeks and months without writing a thing.  Life gets in the way, as they say. 

But this is a season that I want to document.  I want to remember everything about these early days of my family.  And in the law of journaling, the most important times to note are also the hardest to muster the energy. 

I've been forcing myself to jot down a few sentences every evening in my journal, but my friend Taryn told me a new little trick that I think could work for everyone: She writes just a few words, thoughts, memories, right in her day planner. 

This works for several reasons.  You only have one "book" to keep up with, which is a bonus.  And the space is usually pretty tiny, so you don't feel guilty about writing just a few things.

Taryn also writes her notes TO her daughter.  As in, "Today you took your first steps!"  That's not what I do, but I love the idea. 

I live and die by my moleskine.  When I don't have my regular journal with me, I have taken up Taryn's way of journaling. 

Despite my father's admonitions, I have rarely regretted writing something down.  Especially sweet memories. 

photo by Amir K. via flickr

wrapping paper pinch

Over the weekend we were in a bit of pinch when the gift The Gorilla needed to take to a baby shower wasn't wrapped. 

In my condition, I wasn't rushing right out to buy wrapping paper.  So I sort of directed from the couch, and this one was all Gorilla-style.  (A role reversal, if you will.)

I did have some plain kraft paper, and a random stamp in my desk drawer.  It was the first thing that came to mind.  Of course we didn't have stamp ink, but tempura paint worked fine.  It gave it sort of a messy, handmade look that I liked.  You have to give it adequate time to dry on each side, though. 

And normal people would use a newspaper underneath when applying, instead of just sitting straight on the hardwood floors with a bunch of paint.  Oh well, blue speckles give our dining room floor character, I suppose. 

The Gorilla stamped all over, and then we added a gift tag.  Viola.

I like receiving fussy, fluffy packaging.  But I'm not a good wrapper myself.  My style is a use-what-you-have approach. 

And sometimes it works better than others.   

baby announcements - necessary?

You would think I would be all over something like baby announcements.  After all, I love all things paper.  And this one from Dwell would even match her bedding: 

But I am really stuck on the birth announcement thing.  First of all, we live in a world of immediate.  Our friends and family are not inclined to sit around waitin' on the snail mail to deliver the first images of Pigtail. 

So by the time they receive the official announcement - let's assume weeks after the birth - they've already heard her stats, and seen multiple pictures.  At best, it's thrown up on a fridge somewhere.  At worst, it's thrown away.

It's really only a keepsake for a immediate family.  Sorta seems like a waste of time and money.

Not to mention that the only birth announcements I can find that I like are pretty plain and don't involve a picture.  And really, the picture is the most important part of the birth announcement.  Everyone wants to peer at a new baby.  I guess I could just put a picture in the envelope behind the announcement, but now I've given the recipient two things to throw away deal with.

So...I'm leaning towards no baby announcements.  But that makes me sad.  Pulls on my heartstrings a little.  Like I'm already compromising for Pigtail.

(Now rest assured, as an avid believer in tradition and certain formality, her personalized stationary has already been ordered.)

Your thoughts?  Did you do birth announcements?  Do you like receiving them even when it's "old news" ?

fantasy football ring box

My husband is a fantasy football nerd.  It's very serious.  He has been playing since 1991.  I have no idea how that is possible, maybe back then they used stone tablets? 

His current league, made up of his closest college friends and a few family members, has been around for 19 years.  They have named it after some idiot who drove a tank through downtown San Francisco or some such nonsense.

(An old photo of about half the league.  I couldn't resist.  My husband is on the far right with strange facial hair.)

Anyway, they take it very seriously.  There is an annual draft weekend that rotates cities and requires air travel by most.  There are summit weekends where those who are able - since the league is scattered throughout the US - gather to watch Sunday football together while donning jerseys and clicking "refresh" on their laptops every 30 seconds.  And then there are the hours, hours, spent on the phone and on email discussing strategy.

On the surface this looks like a ginormous waste of time, not to mention how un-sexy it is to have your husband involved with anything that includes the word "fantasy."  But these friendships are among the most important in The Gorilla's life and I know that the league is a huge part of why they all stay so close.  They're great guys, and because of fantasy football they speak multiple times a week.  So I keep my mouth shut.  Mostly. 

They're also jokesters.  I know you're surprised that The Gorilla would have funny friends.  And after years of awarding the Super Bowl champion with a little plaque or trophy, a few of them decided to step it up.  See, not every guy has won a championship.  So the group that has wanted to show off for the group that (still) hasn't.  After 19 years, you can see why this is such a hardee-har-har moment for them.

So they had championship rings made.  Serious, heavy, custom championship rings.  Super Bowl style.  Obviously, this was an elaborate joke.

Since we hosted the draft weekend at the lake, The Gorilla enlisted my help in making a ring box.  This would be part of the big reveal. 

So I went to Hobby Lobby and bought an inexpensive balsa wood box.

Then I went to Wal-Mart and bought the thinnest foam inserts I could find.  These were made for chair cushions and came in a four pack, which was a bit of an overkill, but they were just the right thickness.  So then I had to cut one down to fit inside the box.

Also at Wal-Mart, I picked up the smallest jar of dark stain.  I made The Gorilla do the actual staining.  You will soon see why I'm passing off the "credit" to him.  He may have been a little distracted while staining.  That's all I'll say.

Wal-Mart didn't carry the purple or red crushed velvet I was envisioning (it was August, after all), so I had to settle for craft felt.  That took away a bit of the drama for me.  Velvet would have worked better.  But we were working with what we had. 

I didn't take pictures of this next part, but we wrapped the felt around the cut foam and stapled the underside.  Then, thanks to The Gorilla's precise measurements, we cut slits through the felt and into the foam (but not all the way through) to hold the rings. 

I wasn't there for the actual presentation, but I heard it was pretty funny.  And hopefully the guys didn't look too closely to our box, you can see how the inside could have used a little more love and care during the staining process.

Still, it was a quick and easy project.  Amp up the materials and time spent, and you could actually have yourself a nice gift.  We kept this one pretty plain, but it would be easy to personalize with a bit of modge podge. 

In fact, now that I think about it, I might do one for myself...

blog reading

Blogs are everywhere.  Everyone you know is doing it.  Your neighbor has a blog, your brother-in-law has a blog, that nerdy girl from high school who moved far away has a blog.  Oh wait, that's me. 

Some you read, some you don't.  But you never comment.  Ever.  Because then they would know you were reading, and that's kind of embarrassing.  Or because you don't want to add your email to yet another online something-or-other.  That's scary.

And you certainly never subscribe.  Because your inbox is already full.  And what does "subscribe" mean anyway?  Is that like signing up for spam?

Here's the thing: Blogs are so much more than pictures of a stranger's kids.  There are blogs full of useful tips, funny stories, inspiration, and debate.  There are blogs on every single topic under the sun. 

And here's what I'm just now starting to understand: Blogging is a conversation.  There is always a flesh-and-blood human behind a blog.  And unless they are one of the huge bloggers, like my very favorite, they will probably respond to a question or thought you have on their topic.  They probably welcome the interest, because whatever they're blogging about means something to them.

I just happen to know that most of my readers are not big blog readers.  They have a few blogs where they lurk, but they're either not interested or too overwhelmed by the sheer volume of blogs out there. 

I have two thoughts for you, my average peacoat reader:

1. It's okay to comment.  Or not.  On every single substantive post I write, I get an email or facebook message or text from someone with a thought on it.  Most of them apologize for not commenting on the blog, "but they just want to say..."  This doesn't bother me at all.  I like the communication however it comes.  But sometimes the comments are so good, I wish others had seen them.