Tag Sale!

Things are bad indeed when a four-year old sniffs: "I can't work here. Your office is too messy." and leaves to find an uncluttered spot (good luck kid) to colour.
And so it's high time I clear out the odds and ends to make way for the two dozen new products on route for the new shop.

These are all new items. Some were once sold in the shop and some were products that didn't fly. All are priced waaay below wholesale. If something catches your eye, leave a comment here letting me know what you'd like. Your email address isn't visible to anyone else, just me. I'll get back you by email.

First item on the block: hair accessories. Super-sweet, in happy Easter colours. Handmade from silk, felt and beads. Hair bands $3 (retail $12); clips $1.50 (retail $5).







Earred Hat + Bib. KooKoo Design. Hat fits up to 9 months or so. $10 for both (retail $34).



More hats! Nana Knits. 100% cotton, handknit hats. $10 (retail $24) Available sizes:
Pink Fiesta Hat - small (newborn - 3 months) x 2
Yellow Fiesta - medium x 1
PomPom Hat - medium x 1, XL x 1



T-shirts! Don't let the creases fool you: these are really cute.
American Apparel Ts screenprinted with vintage illustrations from the Happy Hollisters series of books. $9 (retail $24).
Available sizes:
long sleeve: 18-24 months, campfire girls
long sleeve: 12-18 months, Pam in race car
short sleeve: 2T, Pam in race car
short sleeve: 2T, campfire girls






Crib quilt.
This is a one-of-a-kind baby quilt sewn by Carolyn Murphy of Baby Ben, in Toronto. It measures 45" long by 34" wide, not including that adorable pom pom trim. It's pieced together with chenille, vintage-inspired cotton prints and solids then quilt-stitched in a lovely swirly pattern. 100% cotton, machine washable. These sell for $295-$395. Buy it here for $125.





Fleece cuddle blankets + pillows. Washable. No-fade, no-pill, no-shrink fleece.
Monkey pillow: mauve + cocoa brown $10 ($24 retail)
Blue cloud blanket $12
Or buy the monkey pillow + cloud blanket for $20.
Yellow flower blanket + pillow $20/set





Floor Model Offi Rocking Chair
Go here to see. It's the blue and white chair with lift-up seat. It has one carrying hole in the back, not the perforated back in the photo. It's been to one or two shows, so it's not brand-new but it's in excellent shape. It's assembled it can't be shipped, you'll have to make arrangements to pick it up in Etobicoke. $25 ($110 retail).

Happy Shopping!

a party

On Willie's birthday, as you see,
these little boys came to tea.
But, oh! how very sad to tell!
They have not been behaving well.
For ere they took a single bite,
They all began to scold and fight.

The little boy whose name was Ned
He wanted jelly on his bread.
The little boy whose name was Sam
He vowed he would have damson jam.
The little boy whose name was Phil
Said, "I'll have honey! YES I WILL!"
But
The little boy whose name was Paul
While they were quarelling, ate it all!

This pair of birthday books, 1960s I'd say, and probably from Australia judging by the Marmite sandwich recipe, is one of my favourite yard sale finds: 10 cents each! And so chock-full of zany yet moderately dangerous games (everything involves tug of war, racing through the parlour or balancing eggs) that they only idea I dare use is pass-the-present. But still. Such sweet illustrations. Boys in bow ties and Oxford shoes. Girls in crinoline dresses with Peter Pan collars. And an irresistable blue donkey. Look at those sad eyes.





If you're game, here's how to play Oranges and Lemons:

Two players, one "orange" and one "lemon" - hold hands to form an arch. The rest of the party-goers line up and march under the arch to the tune of Oranges and Lemons (I have no idea what this song is. Something else must work). One player is caught in the arch and asked in a whisper to choose an orange or a lemon. Then he lines up behind the orange or the lemon. When all the children have been caught, the oranges stand behind oranges, lemons behind lemons and there is a tug of war between the two sides.

loving...

I have been on the hunt for two weeks for the new issue of Blueprint. Not even Indigo had it on the weekend, so I feared the worst: canceled like my beloved MS Kids. I'm still not over that. Why Martha? Why?
It's not exactly kid-oriented but Blueprint is great. It has all of the lovely photography and wish-I'd-thought-of-that ideas without that undertone of disapproval that makes reading MS Living feel more like a to-do list than a leisurely read. My dark, perpetually disorganized linen closet, which is either completely overstuffed or emptier than Mother Hubbard's cupboard, makes me feel like I don't belong in those pages. So Blueprint. Cute models living in cute, cramped spaces I can totally relate to.

The best cover I've seen, well maybe ever. Must. Have. That. Wallpaper.
But it was this genious idea that caught my attention. When I worked at a magazine we called these plastic envelopes "job bags" and used them to circulate layouts and pages among the team. Who'd have thought to use them to hang art? I tried to find job bags at Staples this afternoon - no luck. I've got to track these down, but if anyone knows a source offhand, do share!

365 days old

It's Henry's first birthday in a couple of weeks. There is something so special and sweet about first birthdays, isn't there? I'm quite excited to start planning and making. It's a red, blue and white party. First order of business: invitations. I found this great varsity font here for free.
Next up: fabric favour bags. They're just 11" x 8" lengths of fabric sewn up one long and one short side, right sides together, pinked across the top and tied with a contrasting fabric bow. Easy-peasy, reusable and adorable, if I do say so myself. And it would not be a Morell production without colourful banners hung from the rafters, so those are cut and waiting to be stitched together. Some other goodies are in the works; I'll post as I go along.

A year ago I'd have been at a complete loss for a party theme. You see, boy-ish things never appealed to me. When the ultrasound revealed we were having a boy my thoughts turned to decorating. As in bad decorating: planes, trains and automobiles. Dinosaurs. Power Rangers. Or, gasp, The Leafs. It must have been kismet that Sarah Richardson happened to be sitting two chairs away from me when we got the you're-having-a-boy news. I wondered if she was having a boy, what would she do? I imagined pale grey pinstripes and baby chick yellow. Robin's egg blue and orange. All white. Or cream with hits of red. It turns out that she had a girl. And the nursery is luxe. But it all comes out in the wash: it seems that I do like boys and boy-ish things after all. Just my kind of boyish.

over the hills we go

With any luck, this will be the last weekend to dash through the snow on a horse-drawn sleigh. It is that time of year. I have had my fill of indoor playgrounds. We've worn out our welcome at Ikea's ball pit. And we have seen Happy Feet. Twice. But we're a year or two away from a family ski weekend in Muskoka, so what's left to do but find some local--and cheap--amusement. So tomorrow we are heading off to The Ranch for a sleigh ride through the snow-covered countryside. Hot chocolate and a campfire included!

Closer to Niagara, there's also this place suggested by my sister, but I can't quite bring myself to spend an afternoon at Uncle Porky's. No matter how good the hot dogs are supposed to be. Bad marketing, Uncle Porky. Bad marketing.

If you're game for a nice little drive and a low-key farm outing, I recommend Lionel's Pony Farm north of Markham. No sleigh rides, but the hay-filled barn and free petting zoo are good fun. Be sure to bring lots of carrots and veggie goodies for the goats and donkeys.

Happy weekend!

flying the coop

To be honest I've been looking forward to this day for quite some time. I've needed some uninterrupted time to do, well, to just do. As charming as my little companion is, as much as I enjoy his company, it's rather difficult getting things done with an almost-one-year-old at my heels. So off Henry went this morning to his new homecare/daycare where he'll spend two days a week in the company of three lovely ladies, leaving me to contemplate my very long list of things to do. Which in some ways, involves doing less.

Weeding my overgrown collections and only keeping things I love.
Making a beautiful + healthy lunch. For me.
Contemplating more.
Organizing. Really!
Writing and reading more.
Saying goodnight to the computer at 5:00 p.m.
Wishing a safe drive home to everyone today.

big box o' beanies

Like a opening a box of jelly beans. The first shipment of beanies arrived today. I'm packing up orders this afternoon, so those who got in on the flapper fun early should have their hats in a day or two.

Now if only it would stop snowing...though I quite like the image of a bunch of minis in colourful caps against all this white. We had our own snow day yesterday, Stella and me. I knew she was feeling poorly Sunday when she watched the Oscars with me for two hours, long after my husband retreated to the basement. And when she sweetly asked "Is that you mommy?" when Kate Winslet appeared on screen I knew it was time to check her temperature. A sort-of fever. A tossy-turny night in our bed. A morning--and afternoon--spent in pyjamas. A miraculous late day recovery when the neighbourhood kids came home and everyone congregated on the lawn of the house with the tobaggan-friendly slope.

this just in

Maybe I shouldn't admit this, but I'm my own best customer. It's more fun than Christmas (for me anyhow) when the postman arrives bearing boxes of fresh goodies. I had a deadline this morning for a little writing job, so as tempting as it was, I put the box aside to open as my reward this afternoon. It was worth the wait. I love everything here:


For weeks after Stella's birth I recorded details of her feedings, diaper changes and mood on a notepad. My bleary-eyed scribblings don't make for very exciting reading (nursed for half hour. fussed. slept for an hour. nursed for an hour. fussed. slept for two hours) but it definitely takes me back to those early days, and I'll never throw it out. Of course nothing was that organized with Henry. But he was a more laid-back baby - coincidence? I love this Feed Me journal for first-time parents. I know they'll use it.


And this "notes for the babysitter" pad. Which is exactly what it says: a fill in the blank pad so you can dash off quick instructions for grandma. Love it.



Tiny pastel t-shirts with crocheted ice cream cones. Perfectly adorable.


Progress on the new, souped-up shop is being made. Now that all the back-end tech stuff seems to be done, I'm working on design next week and hope to start stocking the (virtual) shelves soon. We're still aiming for an end of March opening. How does one host a grand opening online? It's not a party unless there's prosecco and mushroom tartlets. I'll have to think about that.

reclaim, recycle, reuse

I've been thinking lately about coming up with a useful + pretty alternative to paper gift wrap. We accumulate dozens of gift bags after each party and while they're sturdy enough, I always feel a bit cheap reusing them (am I alone in this?) but I can't stand to throw them out. So they pile up in furnace room (it's best not to ask) until the annual street sale in May when I use them to package purchases.

So how about a fabric gift bag? I can think of, oh, at least a hundred re-uses for this post-party. I made this pouch with thrifted fabric on the front and natural muslin on the back and lining. It's a Celine Dupuy pattern. I think I'll make them in a few different sizes and lots of different fabrics I've thrifted over the year: corduroy and ticking stripes, toile, old linen tea towels, pretty florals.

Thanks by the way, for your encouraging words about my decorating woes. I'm not quite ready to call in the professionals: I'm planning a second attempt this weekend. In daylight. With extra glue.

technical difficulties

Our master bedroom has empty picture hooks (from artwork relocated two years ago and never replaced), one blue wall (a colour-blocking experiment gone awry), three walls painted smoggy grey - with a slash of tester paint on one - and a brass ceiling fan so big, so ugly we call it the Franken Fan. It's the room we close the door to when company comes over.

Now there are some very good reasons - time, money, energy come to mind - why this room has been mid-renovation for three and half years. But enough's enough. So at precisely 7:00 last night we embarked on phase one of the master bedroom reclamation project: wallpaper.

The master bedroom reclamation project came to a crashing halt at precisely 8:00 last night. I'm not normally one to admit decorating defeat, but even I recognized the whole thing had the air of a Holmes on Homes episode: me sandwiched between the wall and the bed blindly rolling paste onto a nine-foot length of very expensive wallpaper. The dodgy plumb line didn't help. And I couldn't find the wallpaper smoother that I know is somewhere in the basement, so I, ahem, improvised. I really couldn't say for sure why the paper wouldn't stick to the wall.

But by then my Captain Ahab instinct kicked in and we forged ahead to certain folly. We couldn't match the pattern. It's paisley. And metallic. It has a 36" repeat. The crummy light from the Franken Fan made it impossible to see. We couldn't agree which end was up. It did not end well.

So we continue to sleep under the mocking eye of the Franken Fan, nail holes in one wall, tester paint slash on the other and, now, a single crooked, creased and peeling panel of very expensive wallpaper. For now, it seems, the bedroom door will have to stay closed.

it must be love

How else to explain driving Devil's Food cupcakes in a snowstorm (to say nothing of making whipped cream at 7:30 a.m.) to the school Valentine's Day party?

I'm back to playing around on the sewing machine after picking up this gorgeous, project-filled book.
And a little something for Henry. I had planned to make three or four or twelve of these squares and fill them with different things - lentils, popcorn, beans - so they'd have interesting texture and weight, but after spending all of How Not To Decorate, the 10:00 news and Rome trying to piece together the "modified log cabin" pattern this deceptively simple square called for, well, it was time to call it a night on this project.


For the grown-ups? Pasta bolognese and a bottle of this chianti. Happy Valentine's Day!

the planet has enough furniture

So begins the sort-of manifesto of the Brothers Dressler. It's a bold statement coming from two guys who build furniture - gorgeous furniture I covet - but twin brothers Jason and Lars make a good point. And so they've created a successful, small-by-choice building practice guided by the desire to create beautiful objects with purposeful design and minimal ecological impact.

Their philosophy resonates. On my daily walk to the post office I pass a couple of Store for Rent signs. I get the occasional call asking where I'm located so, naturally, opening a physical shop is something I've considered. But then I wonder would anyone come to my store? What would I fill it with? How can I be there seven days a week and still have a family life? The conversation always ends when I ask myself "Does Toronto need another baby store?"

Feeling a bit of pressure to add new things to my online shop, I attended the Gift Show last week. Imagine the entire International Centre's 9 cavernous rooms given over to booth after booth after booth filled with stuff. I've only been to the show once before, three years ago when I first started Honeybunch, and I knew within minutes last week that I was in the wrong place. Not that all of it was awful, but just so much that was...nyeh. So I left, empty-handed but with a renewed sense of purpose.

I realize that I don't want to be big. I like being small. I like personally answering every email. I like selling things that I love, that I use, that are designed with purpose. I like having the time to cook risotto from scratch on a Thursday night. Taking an afternoon nap with my son. Missing the 8:00 airing of Lost and staying up with my husband to watch it at midnight. Enjoying a snow storm instead of worrying about having to drive home in it. So for now, at least, I'll stay small. And, hopefully, purposeful.