Monday, February 23, 2015
Which has, in turn, created the most tasteful series of bears I think I've ever made.
You know I'm the Crayola kid, right? No color too bright, no combination too alarming. So what made me look at these remnants -- an ivory damask and a burlap-looking velveteen the color of wet sand -- and go all woozy with the desire to cut them up?
I guess even the Crayola kid needs a dose of tasteful every once in a while.
The remnants stretched to two damask bears and five of the tan velveteen. In the bag there was also a single gold organza square, not sure if it was a sample, a decorative (certainly not useful) napkin, or what, but I cut it into strips and used it as the bows for the tan bears. I love the ragged look of the unhemmed organza with the smooth velvet bears.
I think I've made a slightly demented wedding party here, what do you think?
In other news, it's still cold. Yeah, I know. February, and all that. My pipes froze for the first time in 15 years in this house, which wasn't fun. You don't realize just how much you count on things to work until you go down at 6:00 a.m. to run water for the chicken, turn on the tap and nothing comes out but a puff of air.
It didn't even occur to me that the pipes had frozen; I assumed something had broken out in the street because my neighbor had work done the other day after they broke pipes in their house and actually had water running out between the bricks into the alley. But no. I went to the basement and the water line was so cold my fingers stuck to it.
Rather a slightly higher water bill this month than a very large plumbing bill and a mess to clean up. Yes, indeed.
Monday, February 16, 2015
Wait, actually it is news. It's almost the only thing on the news anymore.
But really, is it? We're supposed to be surprised that it's cold in February? Snowing, in February?
That being said, it's fucking cold this year in February. I just heard that Philadelphia hasn't been this cold in 100 years, which means that if the servants who spent time in my house's kitchen 100 years ago had had a thermometer on the wall like I do, it would probably read even less than the 48 degrees that it is in my photo.
I do at least have central heat in the house, though it rarely seems to reach the back brick wall between the kitchen and the completely uninsulated shed (which is cold enough to keep food frozen, and where the cranky microwave lives and is forced to heave itself to loud and complaining life every time I need to warm up the chicken's water and food).
The chicken is managing. She's not happy about the weather, and she's not laying, but that's okay -- her eggs would freeze solid in about an hour and I would hate to waste them. I've got the light on 24/7 to keep the temperature up a little in there, and the whole coop is covered in tarps and old storm windows (to keep out wind but let in light). She survived last year's polar vortex with a lot more snow, so I don't think she'll be going to Freezer Camp this year.
I, however, very well might.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
|Art by Luckie Daniels|
I'm so tired of just seeing what everyone's mad at. Outrage is as toxic as pollution, and for once, I'd like to hear what you love.
I don't want to hear about politics, or who did what and whether or not they were right (they probably weren't, but that's neither here nor there right now).
Tell me about something you love.
Friday, February 6, 2015
It's cold and bleak almost everywhere, and I think the lack of sunlight and color is as draining to me as the bone-chilling cold outside. This morning it was 15 degrees when I went out to feed Bonnie at 7 a.m.; now, four hours later, it's still only 22, and I don't think it's going much higher.
So, I give you . . . lilies. These aren't from my garden, but somewhere in my neighborhood. I remember being out for a walk last year and being drawn across the street by the scent from these blooms. If you look really hard, maybe you can smell them too.
One thing I know for sure: when my lilac blooms this spring, I'm going to sit out on my back step under it every single day, inhaling that fragrance, and driving all thoughts of cold and bleak out of my mind.
Tuesday, February 3, 2015
That even includes patterns.
Somehow, I have three large plastic bins of vintage sewing patterns. Don't ask me how; I've probably only purchased 15-20 of them personally. Others have been found in free boxes, donated by friends, handed over by complete strangers who said, "Oh, I heard that you sew," a few were even in the attic when I bought the house.
And I'm never going to use them all. I know that.
Plus, there's a huge number of them (at least 25-30) that have 30-32" bust measurements, and I'm never going to do that kind of pattern alterations.
So I'm slowly going through them to make sure they're complete, photographing them and getting them up on Etsy in the hope of finding new homes for some of them
here -- please go take a look. All patterns (unless they're something absolutely spectacular and rare) are listed at $5 per, with $2 shipping and $.50 shipping for each additional pattern.
Surely there's something that makes your heart beat faster. And if not, check back tomorrow. I'm going to try to post 5 patterns a day until my patience runs out or my camera battery dies. Whichever comes first.