Domík said he was going to build whole Prague from blocks and that he would start with the sea. He thinks he lives at the sea. I was wandering about the sculpturing process but it never happened. However, the idea of being at the sea this summer does not sound bad.
Domik and daddy made me a necklace, they had to, they were told in the kindergarten that they had to. Right there. It is beautiful and I wear it all the time.
So I made Domik a bag, with crazy patches on it.

Patch

This is another embroidered patch on my husband's jeans. He likes it. He even asked for such a patch. I am glad, it looks good. It looks very ... hm. And now the little guy wants one like that, too. He sees a machine in it.

Sitting in the Spring Sun

It is a rather melancholic picture although he is mostly jumping and stamping most of his time. What is he thinking about? When he saw me, he got up and went to hide behind the couch. I took him to my brother's house in the countryside to recover from sickness and you know what? He got sick right there! We had to leave on Sunday morning, leave the sunny meadows and sparkly water streams in woods and blossomy flowers and fresh air behind, go back to the city apartment where he recovered I would say surprisingly quickly.

Hand made fish for the little guy. He played Nat Geo Wild game with it. He was jumping in imaginary water to attach a camera on its back. We liked this fish a lot.

Flattered

Sashiko patch over here. Required by the owner of the pants. My sashiko soul (for long exhausted) flattered.
First picture stolen from Sri threads (Thanks, ehm...) It is a patch, too, after all.

I took a little guy to a workshop in a kid's theatre. At home we did a different kind of workshop, still craft. I am good at saturating him with workshops. But I am not able to find some football lessons and running lessons that he has been asking for.

Poetry

They have some poetry written on the sidewalk in our park, it is a project of the city, and I was reading it out loud as I found it while taking my kid from the kindergarten. It was a nice and emotional love letter from the 19th century, lot of weird stuff you don't hear today. The words winded along the path as I was walking.
Are you just talking for yourself, mum? Domík asked.
Yes, yes, I am just murmuring whatever comes to my mind, kid.

Indian headband

We made an Indian headband on one of our sick days. Little guy looks like a some kind of carnival Indian.
Today I wrote a tiny bit of my dissertation. It was my free day from work. I feel relieved that I have done some job on it. I feel like I need to reward myself with some fun activity for tonight. I can: sit and knit, listen to some radio programme, watch another surreal movie, watch another Italian detective movie, read that Russian writer that I only heard of, browse through Flickr toys and do something, browse through the favorites and immerse in them, look at Intelligent clashing if something is new, plan another sweater, pull out my yarn supply and look at it, watch Domík sleeping ... And before I am finished naming all that stuff the night falls in and I can go to bed. Good night.