Calaveras Collection by Chelsea Carlton

Chelsea is one of my closest friends and she is developing her own company of soft sewn goods. At risk of sounding like a bragging cousin or something, I have to say that I think her work is brilliant. She's the one who makes the majority of the cocktail aprons at Dustpan Alley. She's a genius at pairing unusual colors and patterns. She is fearless in this department so her work is distinctive and fresh. One of her biggest influences is Mexican folk art.

These will be put in the newest-new store. Chelsea is also an incredible cook. She needs to write a cookbook but is too busy splitting all her free time between watching episodes of Project Runway and sewing stuff for my store.

Seeing these pillows makes me want to put on some Mexican Polka music and smash up a truckload of avocados. (It's hard to concentrate on this post while my dog is whining for some mysterious reason that she won't just come out and tell me. Dogs!)

This is my Christmas Wish Box. What are wish boxes? They are oversized match boxes papered by me, filled with trinkets symbolic of the special occasion the box is celebrating, and each one has a scroll of ten wishes. It's the kind of keepsake you send when you want to give more than a card, but less than a baby grand. Everyone loves wishes, it's the cornerstone of dreams! Wishes are like fresh baked bread. They smell good. I make them for most special occasions. Here's what's on the scroll inside this box:

The person who has given you this Christmas Wish Box wishes the following for you:

(check all wishes that apply)

• That all your fruitcakes be as light as air
• That you taste the tang of freshly fallen snow (hear the sound of Californians weeping)
• That everyone you love enjoys good health (and lots of laughs with you)
• That you don't have to call the cops on the drunk carolers again
• That no one gives you another Precious Moments® figurine
• That you feel as loved as you are
• That you still hope for peace on earth even when it seems impossible
• That you find magic in the quotidian
• That your needs are few
• That the lights are many

I really love making these. I was thinking it would be cool to make a slightly more subversive one like a break-up wish-box with ten versions of wishing your ex to go to hell, or a dark version such as a sympathy one that you can send to a funeral instead of flowers (because no one knows how to approach death issues anymore), or even a troubled teen one filled with wishes like "I wish you'd stop snorting coke" or "I wish you'll make it to adulthood so you'll know that I'm right about everything."

It's been raining for a few days now. I haven't grown tired of it, though it's causing some difficulties here at the Williamson Ranch: The roof on the chicken run is not slanted to let the water run off, as it should be, so the ground in the run is wet. Chickens can die of colds they get from not keeping dry enough. I really love my hens. I keep putting fresh dry hay in there but then it gets wet again. Obviously we need to fix it. I'm not excited to do this while it's raining.

The other thing is that Chick doesn't like to go to the bathroom when it's raining. It might be a combination of rapunzel length grass that's wet and cold on her tush as well as the rain beating down on her. I wouldn't like that either. I think it surprises me that a dog can be fastidious about anything and still think cat poop is caviar. It's also proving to be a challenge to pick the dog poo up after a couple of days of rain.

I am just remembering my strange dream which featured a beach scene in which I discover a cache of gold-tone cigarette cases in a huge piece of driftwood that are filled with razor blades and other fun drug paraphenalia. I accidentally spilled the razor blades on the sand and then couldn't walk because I was barefoot. I was trying to find all the blades so I could dispose of them while also preventing a foot from being severed (mine). I managed to throw out all of the cases I found and then wandered around the beach noticing that everyone was exeedingly creepy. Old ladies were falling down in sand-pits and looking pretty dead right before popping back up to say hello to friends.

I must go walk the dog. Because I have so much to do in two weeks it makes me dizzy just getting down to the fourth item on the list of 100.