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Have you ever stumbled across a new object or idea? One you think is just insanely cool and brilliant and wonderful...then the very next day you bump into it again, and again because it was always there and you just didnt see it. Well I bumped into such a thing about a week ago, and have seen it three times since. It’s called guerrilla gardening. It seems the definitions for it range from slipping onto some public space deep in the night and weeding, planting and sprucing up then slipping away with the rising sun to keeping a pocket full of seeds handy at all times and flinging them to the breeze whenever you encounter a plain patch of dirt. My introduction to the concept was somewhere in the middle with an article on ‘seed bombs’’ an ingenuous mix of peat and clay, seeds and compost that is rolled into balls and dried, giving each batch of seeds a head start on beautifying urban ugly. Imagine the outcome if each person left just one of these at their favorite city corner, bus stop or park gate. Imagine the smiles that one little blooming plant might bring and then stop imagining and just do it!
My brother’s wedding is upon us and I’ve hit that point in my procrastination process where I say to my self, “Holy crap! I’ve only got six days to get my self together.” I also ask ‘why do you always do this to your self’, but clearly there is no answer to that it’s just one of those great questions of the universe. The trigger for the questions was the onset of the list making…lots of list making. There’s a grocery list – all the items needed to produce an orange crunch cake, a carrot cake, and a devil’s food cake. There’s a cake list – things to frost and decorate the cakes (in Atlanta) as well as things to pack them in for safe travel and display them on the other end. A centerpiece list – thus far two bags of Mexican beach stones. A mom list – things she wants me to bring that she has trouble finding in her area. A stuff list – cameras, ipods, books, games, magazines (not that we’ll have time to get bored, but we like to be prepared). A suitcase list. And the infamous to-do list – including baking cakes, returning shoes, mom shopping, and dress making (you guess which thing I’ll end up letting slide). In the midst of all of this I’m trying to accumulate the supplies needed for D and my bead making class that starts the day after we get back, get the dog back to the vet, set up some ebay auctions and finish one swap. Sheesh, just looking at it all makes me want to go back to bed.
It hasn’t helped that Bro and wife are in Madagascar and not easily reachable for question answering. They return on Monday and I expect the line to talk to them will be quite long. I haven’t been a total bump, I’ve toyed with display ideas, and cake decorating ideas, it’s just that nothing is working out quite as I envisioned and each failure puts me back to square one…not to mention frustrates the bejeesus out of me. Lucky for me they are both pretty easy to please and there isn’t much pressure from their end to produce something fantabulous…of course that’s exactly what I want to produce, but that’s just how that goes.
Tonight I’m going to tackle the cake stand/display project and maybe start on the dress by making a muslin for the bodice to check fit. Tomorrow after work I’ll pack in all the errand running which will leave me the weekend for baking, sewing and all the things that must be done around the house before a trip. Anybody want to come stay in the house and feed the cats while we’re gone?
Well it was a weekend...but there wasn’t a drop of rain. It wasn’t a complete loss. There was napping
There was sewing:
There was shopping:
Pants
Shirt
Shoes (on sale for $60 - whoohoo!)
There was also cake tinkering, movie watching, gaming, visiting, a vast amount of laundry and a tiny bit of clean out.
Reader’s Digest book on painting techniques, if you are into faux painting this book is for you.
Too old to be on Amazon but a nice informative book.
These four need homes let me know if you are interested.
And my hair has finally started to mind.
A good weekend, even without the rain.
We’ve heard that it’s all about the little things, and its true. But I don’t think the ubiquitous ‘they’ were talking about the little things that made me happy yesterday. I spent time changing smoke alarm batteries, replacing a/c filters, tightening a loose doorknob; small household tasks that when done make me feel as accomplished as if I’d cleaned out the garage. Ok, maybe not that accomplished...you should see the garage...still those particular little things are the ones that go undone for the longest time. They get put off, pushed to the back burner in favor of bigger tasks or ones that have a visible payoff. Its hard to see those new batteries, but easy to tell when the garage has been cleaned. Today I’m on to other projects, and I’ll enjoy them more just knowing that all those little niggling projects are done. So, what are you doing today?
Ok, so I said I wasn’t going to blog ‘wedding’ but it would seem that I’ve all but shorn up all of the arrangements as of this morning, and well, I wanna share. I put a deposit down on the ring. Terrifying; because I can’t try it on and I can’t see it with the stone in it, but oh so good to be decided. The flickr photo was so bad that I’d almost talked myself out of it for being ‘not really all that pretty’ but, when I saw it again in person there was that little fluttery sigh … ‘oh its so pretty’. Now I just have to wait six or eight weeks for it to arrive and another one or two for them to make changes to the center mounting. One of the sales ladies, with disgustingly perfect, tiny hands tried it on for me and let me photo it again…still not great, but far better than the other…those two ‘leaves’ on the side with diamonds in them are my favorite bit; like a secret just for me.
The date is set and the venue decided. I’ve also found a couple that runs a wedding business and offer both photography and the officiant (she photos, he marries) and we are penciled in for the date. All that remains are getting everyone a deposit and D picking out his ring. No, not entirely true, there is still some haggling to do with the venue. The price is set but since we will just be a party of four I’m trying to get them to throw in some extras. “Venue”, you ask, “why on earth would four people need a venue?” The short version is ‘because we’ve lost our minds’, the long version is ‘because it’s just too cool to pass up’. I’ve made arrangements with a zoo on the other coast…yes a zoo. We will have an hour, early in the morning, when it is just D and I, the photographer and officant, and a few animal handlers, standing on the ‘giraffe deck’ eyeball-to-eyeball with eight or so giraffes. Our wedding party will be the four legged variety – eeeee! There have already been a few folks who seem less than enthusiastic about these plans, (read: they clearly think we’re nuts) but no one can say that we didn’t do it our way.
To do this we’ve dropped the bed & breakfast idea and are looking for something that can be paid for by ‘points’ … our company credit card is of the point variety they’ve been offered to us for our lodging and I’m not to proud to turn it down. Clean with a decent bed is good enough for us. The only formal event for the week is the ceremony and I expect D will wear shorts to that, so a highfalutin’ B&B isn’t really all that important anyway. The rest of the time we plan on spending acting like tourists, visiting NASA, museums and anything else that strikes our fancy…even if it’s just sitting in the shade reading books. Yes, we are bucking tradition entirely, our wedding is going to be a real vacation!
The boss and accounting person are heading off on vacation tomorrow – scandalous! Yesterday I was standing in his office reviewing bill entry and payment as I’ll need to do it while they are gone and it is not something I do on a regular basis. All of a sudden the office got quiet, he stopped mid sentence, UncD’s chair creaked as he leaned back, UncW’s banged as he stood and my step-mom crossed the lobby to the front door and we all stared outside. It had started to rain. You’d think we were coming off of the three year drought and not our normal dry season … the happy sigh was audible.
If you looked back through my archives you would, no doubt, find a similar post from this time every year. Some are more desperate than others, depending on how late the season waited to start. They all have that happy sigh moment, a given for me, but this was the first time I’d seen it in others. Watching the yard gradually turn to sand, the trees take on a dusty grey color, and breathing air that tastes like the many brush fires in the area wears on me. I become anxious, and frustrated and every afternoon cast a critical eye skyward in search of one burgeoning cloud .. or better, a whole horde of them. It rained three times yesterday in short vehement bursts that did little to quench the parched plants but did knock some of the dust and pollen off the car. Each time it let loose I smiled.
This weekend will be busy. There’s a wedding cake to plan and a stand to build, shopping to do (sales!), some dry-run-dress sewing and a few promises and maybe even some relaxation. Despite the vast amount of busy I’m looking forward to it. Not because it’s a holiday weekend, but because its forecasted to rain!
My last post invited you to ask me questions about myself or the blog…here’s the questions and my answers:
From Kim: Why do WE have to think over the weekend?
Because I’m danged lazy but creative. This way someone else practically writes my blog post – neat eh?
Two from Rox: Why, Wise One. Are my feet always cold? Winter or Summer. Freezing? Because the cold hands warm heart thing goes for feet as well, and lady you gots a warm heart (shhhh, I wont tell).
And why don’t we get to see pics of the new ring possibilities?
There is currently one ring possibility and there is a so-so photo up at flickr. We’re waiting to see if it can be ordered in my size (aka man-hand) because it cannot be re-sized. If not…back to the drawing board…sigh.
Three from Laurie: Why is the color orange spelled the same as the fruit? And which came first?
The fruit came first and it got its name when one caveman asked the other “ornach you gonna et that?” They are spelled the same because cavemen are lazier than I am.
Why do handknit socks make feet look like a ham wrapped in wood? (later corrected to ‘wool’).
I’m glad you corrected that last word to wool because for a moment there I though they needed to reduce your pain meds. In fact, if you are mistaking your feet for hams they should probably do so anyway.
Two from Jae: Why is nearly all fruit round-"ish" except for bananas?
Fruit is round-ish because trees don’t have pockets. You cant make a square fruit without a ruler and you cant keep up with a ruler if you don’t have pockets (and don’t tell me they keep them in their drawers because they don’t wear pants…and if you mean desk drawers, well now that’s just cannibalism isn’t it?)
What is your favorite flavor ice cream? Given a chocolate, vanilla, strawberry choice chocolate would always win. But in a Baskin Robins type situation I almost always go for oreo cookie, mint chocolate chip or butter pecan with equal relish.
Thanks for playing ladies and for taking care of today’s post. Tomorrow…back to the grind!
As Laurie pointed out to me in a chat, I’ve been wordy this week. It was a personal challenge to celebrate reaching 500 posts; it was ‘why week’. I started each post by asking myself a question. Why do I blog? Why Unfinished Object? Why do I sew? Why can’t I make up my mind? It was and interesting experiment, if a little garrulous for you. But not to worry, next week I’ll be back to listing weekend chores and moaning about minutia. But today I’m going to turn it over to you and invite you to ask me a question...preferably one about me or the blog. I cant spend the weekend on Wikipedia looking up why the sky is blue (it has to do with light wavelength, by the way). So let ‘er fly, and I’ll answer all two of them here on Monday 
I have a hard time making decisions, especially when I’m buying large ticket item. I research and ask opinions and agonize over making the right choice, and often change my mind multiple times along the way. I know you are tired of wedding posts, but this one is really about my choosing malady…rings just happen to be the big purchase I’m wrestling with right now. When I started out I wanted a plain band with a few small stones set in it. Or that’s what I thought I wanted. When I looked at them they seemed a little cold and a lot too ordinary. I stopped looking in the wedding case and started looking at the phenomenon called ‘right hand rings’. Better, more organic somehow, but also more fragile and there’s little doubt that I’ll be harder on it than the average person. I need to be practical and reasonable about my choice but I want to be in love with it too. So, I switch gears and leave off of filigree and move on to vintage.
These have promise and many have colored stones along with the diamonds. D is big on colored stones, especially rubies. They are popular with the stores as well. When we’ve looked at them every sales person we’ve encountered has felt inclined to tell me that Lady Di’s ring was a sapphire….but I digress. These are sturdier, but more architectural…still not right. Then my mom says I can have the diamond from her engagement ring and I shift gears again, solitaire this time with side stones, but since I wasn’t looking for that style in the first place I have to go back to all the places I’ve been – sheesh.
Mom’s being in town made ring shopping easy and we retraced my steps without dragging D around too much, but we did take him back to the local artisan jeweler where I think we’ve both found rings. My top pick combines all those things I looked at earlier. Wire work with a bezel set, stones in the band, white and rose gold, with a center stone – it’s the kitchen sink of rings, but as gaudy as it sounds. So, providing it looks like I remember it does when I go back, here’s the plan: Buy the ring and set it with mom’s solitaire. Wear it a while and determine if I’m in danger of knocking the whole head out of it. If it looks like I’m going to destroy it I’ll have the stone and head removed and replaced with a repetition of the wire work. However, if all is going well I’ll start saving up for an ideal cut diamond instead (have you seen these? Sweet swoonin’ Jupiter but they are sparkly!).
Though this post has been about rings I could rewrite it about dining tables and flat screen TV’s, sofas and chairs, washers and dryers, carpet, cars…if it was expensive and I’ve purchased one you can bet your bloomers I’ve fretted over it. What’s worse is that by the time I do make a decision I’m tired of the whole process; it’s more ‘get it over with’ than ‘this is THE one’. With D and my tastes running contrary to each other the process is doubly difficult. The dining table was a meeting of those two opinions, it would do at the time but we both hate it now. But it isn’t just our wayward tastes; this affliction was present long before I met D. I suspect the roots of it lie in my extreme dislike of being wrong or making a mistake…or worse, someone catching me at either. Not long ago I embarrassed myself while at a restaurant with D; it’s a post for another time but it had something to do with the entertainer’s butt. D piped up, it’s nice to see you embarrassed for a change and if that isn’t encouragement to ‘let it go’ a little more often I don’t know what is…now all I have to do is decide when!
Sewing and I don’t go as far back as you might imagine, perhaps only seven or eight years. I can remember being fascinated with my grandmother’s sewing machine and her bin of scraps and an old sewing basket I wish I still had. I used the scraps to make things for my Barbies. In my mind’s eye they were grand ball gowns in reality…skid-row Barbie would be more honest. I also recall her trying to teach me to thread the confounded thing and run a straight seam and that I had exactly zero patience for the whole production. This may well have been my first utterance of foul language but assuredly not my last.
My next foray into sewing was a forced stint in Home Economics. I wanted to be in Shop class, but no, that was still the age of boys equal Shop and girls equal Home Ec except for one all too brief week when we swapped. The assignment was to make an animal pillow and the kit I chose was a black and white felt dog. Everything was already cut out and the pillow was more round that dog shaped. All that was required was to attach the face, ears and spot by hand with a blanket stitch, sew the edges, stuff, close the edges and border the whole thing with blanket stitch. If poor ‘Spotty’ had been picked up by the dog catcher they’d have sent him straight to the gas chamber. That thing looked as much like a dog (or a pillow for that matter) as the Eiffel tower looks like a hot fudge sundae. I hated sewing and when the class moved on to baking cookies I was ecstatic.
I took a silk screening class in college and fell in love with fabric, but sewing still eluded me and I paid a woman to hem my final projects so they met the requirements for submission. Fast forward twenty plus years; my grandmother lost an arm to cancer and in what was most likely a mix of frustration and realism she gave me her sewing machine. Figuring it had been years since the machine was last serviced I took it to a little old man so wrinkled and stooped he probably invented the first one and $70 later he pronounced it cured. For an additional $25 he sold me an attachment that allowed my basic, straight forward, prehistoric Kenmore to make button holes. I blundered into my first fabric store and purchased a modest amount of patterned and solid yellow cotton and set out to make myself a quilt. I believe I finished one square and I know it took me literally hours to do so. I hadn’t thought to ask the wizened old man how to thread the machine or the bobbin. I didn’t understand tension or needle size and disgusted I threw the puckered mess into a box… the humble beginnings of my stash. I believe it is still there buried under years of accumulation.
A few more years went by and the Kenmore was just something I dusted from time to time. I met D and he introduced me to the Fencing Club. Fencing and I didn’t get along as I couldn’t get beyond feeling like a hippo in a tutu when I was thrashing about with my foil but I excelled in painting and fixing things for them (and watching D of course) so I stuck around and they made me an honorary member. The club’s main source of revenue was running ten or twelve games at the annual Medieval Faire. Ring toss, fencing lessons, archery, sword-bob to name a few and I jumped on the band wagon to mind games and take tickets but there was a catch, working the faire required a costume. D, being an old hand at it owned several but I’d never stepped foot into a Ren-Faire. Luckily there was a long time before the Faire, months in fact, and with Halloween just around the corner costume patterns were easy to find. So I made my second venture to the fabric store selected a pattern based solely looks and not experience level, purchased fabric and nearly passed out at the register. The amount of fabric in a full skirt is not for the faint of heart. I settled myself in my craft room, then still a guest room, and worked through the pattern one agonizing step at a time. It called for zippers, boning, casings, elastic, gathers, and eases but sheer determination won out and I produced a passable skirt, shirt, and bodice and could not have been prouder of myself. I found making ren-costumes rather like drawing dragons…having never seen one folks couldn’t tell me that I’d done it wrong. Sewing bloomed. I replaced the Kenmore with a Husqvarna and my stash began to grow.
D’s affection for the fencing club and faires was waning just as mine waxed but there was still time to make a few corsets, underpinnings and gowns. Most notably Simplicity’s version of a gown from the movie Shakespeare in Love – bum rolls and cartridge pleats and farthingales OH MY! I wore it to big faire in Sarasota and spent a very memorable day being approached by people wanting my photo as they thought I was one of the actors portraying nobility. I don’t think D or the couple we were with were as delighted as I was with all the attention but I had myself a fine, fine time.
There have been several costumes since – for myself, D, friends. Many were quite complicated and all just a little seat-of-the-pants. Each of these projects was large, multi-stepped or multi-pieced. I recall that there were nine yards of fabric in the S in Love skirt and that time after time I’d thought I was near the end of a seam only to find a mile of fabric still to come. Typical of me to jump in so deep and the resulting burnout was not surprising. Then I made something small. I do not recall what it was but I do remember being awestruck when I ran the first seam in under three seconds and checking the floor to make sure I hadn’t lost something.
Sewing changed, it became an almost daily hobby. I discovered totes and bags; small projects I could finish in a few hours and didn’t require every square inch of the room to lay them out for cutting. More importantly I started to toy with my own patterns and ideas where once I would have never deviated from the written instructions. There were failures, there still are. But with each project I learned something and I became more comfortable with the whole process. I still encounter things in patterns I don’t understand, or have ideas that require puzzle solving skills to make them work but I think that’s why I love sewing. Its very vastness makes it indomitable. That I can never reach ‘ok, done that, moving on’ keeps me coming back. I might master one technique or style but the slightest movement in any direction reveals a plethora of new ways to do things, new items to make and new ideas to explore. They say sewing like knitting is coming back into fashion…for me I hope it never goes out.
No one has ever really asked “Why “Unfinished Object”?” but I’ve always suspected that anyone who spent much time reading here would gather fairly quickly that among procrastinators I rank in the highest echelon and that must be the reason for the name. I do complete things to the ninety ninth percent and then let them languish, forgotten. And I am great out of the gate with new projects but loose steam in the stretch. But my abilities to procrastinate and hesitate are really only the simple definition of ‘Unfinished Object’ and since I craft, a handy one besides. My true intent for choosing that name was that I am unfinished. It is a reminder to my self that though I am a sedentary person it does not mean I have to have a sedentary mind. Though I am flawed I do not have to be complacent with those flaws. I am a work in progress and I like it that way.
I haven’t the means, the opportunity or the gumption to become Oprah and go off in search of myself. I wouldn’t know where to look anyway…somewhere bathed by the light of a computer screen no doubt. I can, however, learn new things, recognize my faults make changes and become if not a better person then at least one that is comfortable in her own skin. Of course, there will be a time – hopefully far in the future – when I have no choice but to stop changing, but I hope that even then I am happily unfinished.
Once I was asked, neither kindly nor tactfully, if I blogged to garner attention for myself. This, my 500th post*, seems like the right time to address that question. The query came from a person who does not blog and seemed sincerely incapable of fathoming why any one would waste time on such a puerile endeavor … and yes, the question raised my ruff a bit. I tend to be defensive of my hobby, and I offer no apology to that. I won’t condemn anyone who finds blogging not to their taste; and I expect the same treatment in return. Unfortunately people are people and they forget that their opinions are just that ‘theirs’ and shouldn’t always be imposed on others. I agree that we all have a right to our opinions but there are times when we should keep our big mouths shut – or our fingers off the ‘send’ button, whichever the case may be.
So, do I blog to be accepted and gain attention? I suppose I do, if you can call my three regular readers, handful of monthly visitors, and the occasional lurker ‘attention’. I blog is what is going on in my life, and I admit that I crow loudly when I’ve done something I’m proud of. But if I can’t do that here, where can I? When I started – and stopped – and started – and stopped – and finally started for-real-this-time I did have visions of being a big blog. If you’ve been around a while you’ve heard this before. I originally wanted tons of comments, appreciative readers who learned something from my tutorials and recipes, and a sense of being popular. It was a tall list of blog-desires and it did not take much time for me to learn that it does not work that way. In fact, I found it rather like high school and that thing that makes people popular eluded me just as it always had. But, as I became a regular visitor to some of the well known blogs and I realized that few, if any, of the readers were actually friends with the writer and the big-blog appeal lessened. I encountered blogs that stated on their main page “Thanks for the comments, but I don’t have time to answer them” and the shine diminished even more. Finally, when I had my own small dose of blog nastiness and was forced to take down a post I shifted gears entirely.
This blog is truly a web-log, the origin of the word ‘blog’, and I love it in all its blathering wonder. It is a record of my day-to-day. I am more likely to keep it in this format rather than a pen and paper journal. It matters not a wit that I write about taking out the garbage or getting engaged or painting the bathroom. Some days I’ve little to say, and others I’m overflowing. Luckily, having only a small readership leaves me the latitude to write when I feel like it and rest when I don’t without ever feeling like I’m letting someone else down. I won’t lie; I enjoy the kudos, support and encouragement that I receive here but it is not the only reason I blog. I also enjoy meeting people, reading other blogs and offering the same well wishes in return. And I especially like having this record to look back on, how else would I remember D’s peanut butter/chocolate/marshmallow sandwich or the time I set the alarm off at the office because I had a senior moment and forgot the code. The big things are easy to remember; here I can store small things and in case you haven’t heard, they are important too.
Blogging is not all sunshine and roses, and I’m not speaking only of the loonies and jerks. It has many of the same pitfalls as communicating by email the biggest one being loss of tone. A good writer can convey meaning and tone, the reader knows exactly what is serious and what is tongue-in-cheek. Most bloggers are just passable writers, myself included. Those who know me ‘get it’ and those that don’t…well, not so much. Internet friendships are made and broken by tone and often neither party is aware that it was all a simple misunderstanding…a lame attempt at humor gone miserably awry. Oddly enough, I have found these long distance friendships every bit as fine as local ones, with the exception that it’s hard to take each other to dinner. I’ve also found that when they run their course it hurts just as badly…perhaps worse. The safety of being miles away is as insular as being able to flip someone off while driving. People do not act as they would face to face, or I hope that they don’t as some of the internet behavior I’ve encountered is simply deplorable. But, as I said before, people are people and while we are at the top of the food chain we are not therefore at the top of the intellect scale.
It’s not perfect, this hobby of mine, and my site suffers from a poorly educated mistress. There should be a new ‘skin’ here to celebrate the big 500; in fact there should be different skins for holidays and seasons but I’ve never quite applied myself fully to managing my own site. If you dig deep enough you are sure to find missing photos from a long defunct BuzzNet account and dead links to people that no longer blog. I’ve made more than my fair share of typos and misspellings. I’ve blogged happy and drunk and angry and sad. There are posts I wish the world could read because I believe them them better than my average and others that would be best forgotten. I’ve taken breaks and considered quitting but I never quite give it up. No, it’s not perfect but that may be the best part, there is no rule that says it has to be and no one to please other than my self. Why do I blog? For the best reasons in the world…because I like to and because I can.
*If I include my previous blog, Comfortably Numb, this is my 816th post. I have been blogging since 8/9/04…wow, where does the time go!
I resisted the genetic urge to make the house pristine. Yes, genetic; though evidently it weakens with each generation. My mom’s mom is a cleaner. That house was always spotless, even with the raising of four children, and visiting of grandchildren. Even now, her tiny assisted living apartment is kept amazingly clean for a woman of her years. When I was little and the grandparents were coming for a visit my mother always went into some sort of cleaning convulsion. She worried, she fretted and she cleaned. And still, on the day of the visit it would not be clean enough…there was no matching my grandmother’s abilities.
My early years of having my own place, be it apartment or home, were much the same. Any visitor prompted a whirlwind of straightening and scrubbing. I wanted it to look like Better Homes & Gardens, I wanted to be Martha. I suppose I did a fair job of it…when someone was looking…but the rest of the time it was passable or downright chaotic depending on the day.
When D moved in there was an initial burst of activity to prove I could be a good housewife, but once I realized he really wasn’t paying attention I eased up on the accelerator. I still clean of course, and he helps. Sometimes its ‘guy clean’ and sometimes ‘girl clean’ but it’s rarely the ‘company clean’ that my grandmother aspired to every day.
My mom arriving this afternoon the house is just passable. Her room (my sewing room) is as clean as it gets – translated: vacuumed, dusted, and semi organized (for gawd sakes don’t open a drawer!) and the guest bath is spotless (unless you open the linen closet). The kitchen is as clean as it gets considering I cooked last night, and the living and dining rooms are straight, but cluttered with all the stuff I drug out of the sewing room closet so she could hang up her things. Master bedroom and bath? Probably better if she doesn’t go in there at all. The miracle is that I’m ok with that…you could come visit and I’d still be ok, I’d even let you write your name in the dust on master bedroom TV screen. My days of being freaked out if any one learned I was not only mortal, but lived in my house seem to have passed. Whether its wisdom or laziness I do not know. Either way it is ultimately a good thing. Like my dad says “people aren’t coming to see your house, they are coming to see you”.
It’ll be a little quiet around here in the coming days as my evenings are spoken for, and my computer is situated in ‘mom’s room’. Till then send good wishes to Laurie, who’s dad is having surgery tomorrow, and to Kim, who fuggered her knee last week. And if you get bored check out this site for some very cool crochet art, and shop this Etsy shop (she makes the bestest bags ever). Till next time...take care of yourselves!
This will be one of those weekend where I can’t wait to go back to work Monday to get some rest. The list of things to do and have done is long and I’m sure some things will fall by the wayside as time spins out. But it wont be without some fun. Tomorrow morning we are going to a local jeweler who specializes in custom work. He uses the same computer software that D does for his 3D design (D has already stopped by) and D has been hard at work on a design all week. Even if I dont find one myself its ok because it’s nice to see D so enthused. Besides, we’ve decided (we think) on September so there is plenty of time to keep looking...as Laurie says, don’t force it.
In other news, remember my ‘want’ list from a couple of weeks ago. Well I decided to make good on a few of them and shorten the list. No, I didn’t pick up a puppy but I did sign up for a glass bead making class. To my pleasant surprise, D is going to join me. It doesn’t start until we return from my brother’s wedding in June, but that is just as well there is, as always, much to do before then. I’m excited though, I don’t expect to be an instant whiz at it or anything, but I think it will be a nice way to spend an evening together and to learn something new.