A Warm Welcome – Sitto’s Blanket

Being Syrian has always been about welcome–about having something delicious to eat when someone arrived, about making room for friends, family, strangers, visitors. Sitto would joke, “If I knew you were coming I’d have baked a cake,” as she was pulling out homemade Syrian bread, tabouli, meat pies, along with midwestern corn on the cob, sliced tomatoes, watermelon, cookies. Sitto didn’t speak a lot of Arabic around me and my brother, but “ahlan wa sahlan,” was definitely something we heard growing up. It means “welcome.”

Sitto’s Button

Sitto’s Button Originally uploaded by plainsight In my grandmother’s button collection, I found this fabric covered button–the perfect match for the jacket I’m delivering to O Wool at TNNA this weekend. I’d like to know what the previous life of

Alaskatarian: Dancing for Our Supper

First published in The Cordova Times, 9/28/2012   We have a tough job here in the North during summer. It’s like we have to play both sides of Aesop’s fable of the grasshopper and the ant: we must play while

My Grandmothers, pioneers of creative re-use

Sitto, (my mom’s mother) was a big fan of smock-style aprons. I like them too–they have pockets, and cover the whole front of you. I have a small collection of my Sitto’s aprons, and my mom does too. I find

My Funny Valentine

mona the camel Originally uploaded by plainsight On Valentine’s Day, I was heading back to Seattle from Friday Harbor and we finally got to see Mona, the local island camel (apparently a rescue from Ebay). Mona was an especially friendly

I’v been editing…

my livingroom. When I was a web designer, I loved white space–it just makes things on the page look pretty–if a page is too cluttered, with things filling every nook and cranny, it’s harder to see what you’re looking for.

It’s Out!

Buried among the dusty boxes of fabric scarps, patterns, and notions, I found a box bursting with Sitto’s hand-crocheted afghans, the era of their creation captured forever in the color selection–the earthy brown hues of the 1970s or the bright,

Channeling My Grandmother

My “Sitto” (Arabic for grandmother) taught me to crochet when I was eight years old. She passed away last fall, and I inherited a lot of her crochet things–hooks, old pattern books, and a box of granny squares which I