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Friday Unrelated Information
2. Mark your calendars–if you want to exhibit anything in the State Fair, the Home Arts division is accepting entries next Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. (Other dates to keep in mind: The State Fair’s demolition derby is September 14th, and Blue Moon Ranch is having their Open Farm Day September 27th and 28th.)
3. Speaking of State Fair, I watched the musical in its entirety Wednesday night and oh, the costumes. And oh, the flimsy plot. And oh, how musicals have their happy endings. Up next: Meet Me In St. Louis.
Cats Do Not Eat Bubble Gum
I meant to give a Toby update at the beginning of the week, but by the time I got the quotes and Tuesday’s project out of the way, he wasn’t really getting any better. Friday’s trip to the vet was pretty major–three shots and fluids in a kitty IV, none of which went well–and I hated to take him back, but back he went yesterday. All I can say is, it’s a good thing I can take the top off of his kitty carrier, because he wasn’t about to come out of it in the office.
It’s an even better thing that he doesn’t appear to have swallowed any of my crafty supplies and that we think we can get him better with more antibiotics. I’m still giving him tuna-flavored medicine and now I get to squirt pink medicine in his mouth, too, that’s bubble-gum flavored. Which makes me wonder: “Who in the hell thinks that cat medicine should taste like bubble gum?”
Here’s the little tyke in the happier times of early last week, before someone tried to squirt things in his mouth three times a day: He’s improving already. He just doesn’t like the taste of bubble gum.
Cute Animal Story Of The Week
This actually isn’t that heart-warming, but it had the best line of my internet reading yesterday. Apparently, an emperor penguin has been part of the King’s Guard in Norway since the Edinburgh Zoo let them adopt one in 1922. The latest penguin (they’re all named “Nils Olav”) just got knighted:
“During the ceremony, Nils had a sword dubbed on each side of his head, where his shoulders should be, to confirm his regimental knighthood.”
Tuesday Project Roundup: "Nothing Is More Chic"
I thought I should wear all black, the universal sign of sophistication, to my high-school reunion, but I hate wearing black and sewing it is even more boring. So I decided on navy blue, since, as Cecil Beaton said, “Chanel demonstrated that nothing was more chic than fine linen, navy-blue serge, and lots of soap.”
I had a pattern from my mother’s stash that wanted to be made for a special occasion (well, it wasn’t a muumuu, so it seemed dressy), so I went for the “navy-blue and lots of soap” Jackie O look, minus that back belt:
It actually doesn’t look like much on the hanger, but with a tan, pearl studs, and a yellow clutch, it was just right:
"It Was As If Everyone Had Swelled"
And with that Grosse Pointe Blank quote for a title, here’s the high school reunion experience…in quotes. I went with Mr. Isbell; the lovely Amber and her Ideal Husband shared in the alienation and hard alcohol.
“Everyone looks vaguely familiar, but only in the way that people who live in Salt Lake all look familiar.”
“I expected there to be baby races or something.”
“His wife’s cute.”
“Apparently, she’s a good cook!”
“Sweetie, can we have one baby while the first one is still a baby?”
“I have, like, a million ants.”
“We have half an acre of ants.”
[There were awards for things like “Most Pets.” We wanted to win.]
“Look around the room: We have cookies from Costco.”
[Ideal Husband went to Judge Memorial and had a guy selling cocaine from the next locker. Amber had a bag of cookies from Costco in her locker during high school. That phrase just summed it up for me.]
Friday Unrelated Information
1. It’s Julia Child’s birthday today. If you’re a procrastinator like me, take comfort in the fact that she didn’t even learn how to cook decently until she was 32.
2. Toby has to go to the vet today. He has what seems to be kitty stomach flu—not too alarming, but enough that he has to go visit kindly Dr. Nan. Send some kitty-get-well vibes his way.
3. After a difficult week—which will be topped off by the vet followed by the high school reunion tonight—I’m going to do nothing tomorrow. I’m not even going to clean or go to the farmers market. Instead, I’m going to enjoy all the sunshine that we have left. And I might think of this Mary Oliver poem, “The Sun.”
Books That Feature My Imaginary Boyfriend
I’ve always been a fan of Sherlock Holmes—to the point where I was accused of having a crush on him in high school—and I’ve been unable to focus on any serious literature this summer. So imagine my delight to find a mystery that features a young lady with mad observational skills of her own who meets Holmes in retirement and becomes his newer, smarter Watson. The book is by Laurie King and there’s a whole series featuring the two, which is good because I was more than halfway through The Beekeeper’s Apprentice in just one day.
I can’t recommend my new discovery enough. If you’re a fan of Holmes at all, you’ll love them—the continuity between the Conan Doyle and King versions of Holmes is perfect, and there’s just enough period costume and descriptions of brandy being drunk. It’s light reading, yes, but not silly. (There’s an excerpt here.)
And I have to say, I think Holmes would approve of having such adventures with a 20-year-old in his retirement.
A Poem For The Housework
Monday’s Writer’s Almanac featured a Mark Strand poem that I really liked, with the love/tepid relationship with cooking and cleaning that I have. (I like to eat and I love a clean house, but sometimes I get so tired of providing food and order.) (My budget doesn’t allow for restaurants. Or a maid. Someday.)
But this elevated things, if only momentarily. From “The Continuous Life“:
…O parents, confess
To your little ones the night is a long way off
And your taste for the mundane grows; tell them
Your worship of household chores has barely begun;
Describe the beauty of shovels and rakes, brooms and mops;
Say there will always be cooking and cleaning to do,
That one thing leads to another, which leads to another;
Explain that you live between two great darks, the first
With an ending, the second without one, that the luckiest
Thing is having been born, that you live in a blur
Of hours and days, months and years, and believe
It has meaning, despite the occasional fear
You are slipping away with nothing completed, nothing
To prove you existed.
Tuesday Project Roundup: Morbid Curiousity Edition
So…Friday is my 10-year high school reunion. I’m going, because the curious part of me that “has hobbies and sees what happens” knows that if I don’t attend and see how bad it really is, I’m always going to wonder. (Also, I thought, “What if someone in a book I write needs to go to a high school reunion and I don’t know the exact feelings of displacement? I’d better go.”)
Of course I made a dress for it (pictures next week). But I also decided to make a clutch, which gives you something to do with your hands when you’re standing around talking at an alcohol-less event.
Obviously it still needs a lining, but it’s turning out well.
Most importantly, it’s nice and roomy, as Toby shows…
…because it needs to hold my flask. To quote the best high school reunion movie ever,
“Who needs hard alcohol?”
“I do!!”