AfricanKelli

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Tomorrow I’m off to Mexico for the day for work. In turn, today is “comp time.” Sweet cracker sandwich, I love the odd vacation day.
It’s 5 am and I’ve got snickerdoodles and brownies hot out of the oven ready to be delivered to the bagel shop, a pretty spring dress and sandals to wear, a massage scheduled for this afternoon, a stack of new magazines to go through and the Tempe Art Festival starts today. One would think I would have planned to sleep in. Alas, my body is in a set routine. Just that much more time to enjoy the day.
Plus the desert is coming back to life after a brief winter. The cacti are blooming in wild colors and everyone in Phoenix seems to be outside, drinking up this weather with a glass in both hands. The only indoor activity I’d like to schedule this weekend is seeing this movie. Life is good.
Happy weekend!
And if I don’t show up Monday, send a search posse. Tequila, pinatas, blue and white pottery, awesomely cheap vanilla…

~K

Zimbabwe has been falling apart by the seams for years thanks to the wicked, cruel leadership of Robert Mugabe. The country once well known for its fertile earth, beautiful people and Victoria Falls has become the poster child for what is wrong in Africa.
The government is corrupt. People are starving to death — bitter irony for the breadbasket of Africa. Dissenting voices are beaten and kidnapped. AIDS, poverty and violence are so common that Zimbabweans struggle to remember a life before these three ugly neighbors set up camp.

Thankfully, it seems this bitter storm of destruction is finally getting the attention it has long deserved. Mr. Mugabe, I hope you are saying your prayers and counting your days. I have a great feeling your dictatorship is finally coming to a grinding halt.

Zimbabweans — hold tight. Help your neighbors. Take refuge. Be hopeful. The world is praying for you and hoping peace returns swiftly to your sweet country.

~K

P.S. South Africa? Buck up. Your neighbors need you. Stop playing politics and get in there and help these people. I don’t care if Mugabe helped end apartheid. He’s the Hitler of Africa and you are playing Switzerland annoyingly well.

I’m having a small dinner party this weekend and am a wee bit excited. Here is my problem: I entertain rather infrequently, but love doing so. When I have people over, I tend to get a bit worked up and just plain silly. The meal is days away and yet I know what I’ll serve, how I’ll set the table, what I’ll wear, the music, the wine, etc.
Crazy — right?
Do you ever find yourself going helplessly overboard and yet not knowing how to stop? I feel myself starting to plan down to the last detail, full well knowing from the outside I must look bonkers. {Gift bags, for example. Who gives gifts at a dinner party? I have the sneaking suspicion this is too much. Then again, I don’t care. See, I have a great idea…} I feel like Bree VanDerkamp has taken over, with a prissy coif and all — although I’m nicer. I swear.

I get such a kick from pulling entertaining ideas from magazines and watching them come to life. I love the idea of serving a great meal on pretty plates in a clean home with the quintessential Hollywood homemaker soundtrack playing in the background. And well, if that sounds bonkers, then so be it.

This week, my new reversible market tote will be filled with ingredients for my African-themed feast: peanut soup over rice, piri piri shrimp, banana leaves for koki, coconut, avocado and mangoes, South African reisling and Tusker. I may need two totes.

I should fall back on my mama’s wise advice: live like it doesn’t matter what others think. Life is too short to worry about spoiling your friends.

Kelli

Dear Finny,
I survived my bike-swim-bike. I’m tired today, but I’ve found that two cups of strong coffee after a long ride help get me through the typical “bonk” period post-workout. Slowly, I’m learning how to push myself farther in this tri training. Are you stoked for your big race next Sunday? Doode! One week from today and you’ll be a 10ker! I am so proud of you.

Now, before I go any further, you are never going to guess who I got email from this week. Ms. Amy Butler herself. AMY BUTLER! Can you believe it? I thought to send her a quick note to let her know about our In Stitches sewalong and guess what? She’s agreed to provide a prize for an overall winner when our little sewing bee ties up in December. I KNOW! And to make matters that much better, have you seen her new patterns and stationery?

I yelped when I got her email and got all shaky — kind of like I’d imagine I’d react if I ran into Madonna at the market. My knees got a little weak and I was so unsure of how to respond that I let the email sit there for a day — going back over it word by word and pinching myself to make sure it was real. (It’s real and I’m bruised.) She, on the other hand, is as clever and charming as her designs would suggest.

How is your March clutch project going? Can’t wait to see what you pick for April! And ooh, I am already green with envy over the lucky lady who scores the loot from Amy come December. I can hear the Singer sewing engines roaring in the background!

Love,
Donk

I used to laugh at those who didn’t read the newspaper or keep up with current events. I thought it was so important to be up with the latest CNN bullet points. Only recently have I been making a point of avoiding gossip sites and magazines. {A life without the latest Hilton/Lohan/Spears shenanigans is in fact a more pleasant existence.} I’m listening to a lot more music and a lot less NPR. Even better, I’ve been opening the windows and listening to the birds, the wind, my heartbeat. I’m not reading nearly as much news, or letting my favorite anchor pull me into the streets of Tikrit.
I promise I’ll return one day, but I need a break. A media fast — or better yet, a media diet. I’m trying to live more intentionally in many ways. I’m certainly feeling happier as a result.

Yesterday Ultimate was canceled because of the beautiful rain that blanketed the Valley. Suddenly I had three hours of my late afternoon handed back to me, tied with a velvety Shiraz bow. I poured myself a nice glass, made a great salad, turned on some tunes and got busy behind my sewing machine.

I’ve been thinking about creating this bag for a bit. I don’t know why I’m on a Nancy Drew kick as of late, but I am. I tried to make this bag to look as much as possible like the old Nancy Drew mysteries — the ones with the golden covers, black bindings and creamy, worn pages. I used canvas for the lining and the Amy Butler downtown bag pattern. Voila!

Another CAOK gift going out in the mail today.

Tomorrow morning I’m going on a 20-plus mile ride to swim at a new pool in north Scottsdale. It is time to begin the brick training for this triathlon and I am a bit nervous. I hope I have energy to swim after the ride. I hope I make the ride without any mishaps. (In the last two weeks, I’ve had several friends hit by cars/Fed Ex trucks when on their road bikes.) I’m also hoping to have enough energy to ride home after the tough practice. I was swimming the other day with my new team when I realized three of the four swimmers in my lane are former Olympians. Huh. Needless to say, their presence in my lane is about as close as I’ve ever been to swimming for my country. I’m so glad I joined this team. The challenge is incredible!

You know, Nancy Drew always liked a challenge.
Happy weekend fellow sleuths,
~Kelli