This commercial from Purina New Zealand would have been a fun account to work on. Kitties! Yarn! Oh my!
Tuesday Project Roundup: If You Don’t Own A Horse…
…you can always wear one. That’s right, the hippy dress strikes again!
Here’s a better idea of the real fabric color (thanks, camera):
And here’s the pattern drawing so you can get a better idea of the shape, such as it is:
The fabric is an Alexander Henry quilting cotton that I got to make a wearable muslin (test garment) for second hippy dress pattern from France. The quilting cotton isn’t the best apparel fabric and there are a few tweaks I’ll make before I sew it in fancy corduroy, but it’s wearable and it has horses on it. Therefore, it’s a success.
I Guess Only Men Buy Houses?
I got really close to making an offer on a house last week, but then I didn’t–the house still had the original 1939 knob and tube wiring and a fuse box.
In the course of finding out about the wiring, my awesome agent forwarded me the emails she got from the seller’s agent, in which I (the buyer) was always referred to “he.” For example: “If the buyer wants to call the guy who inspected the wiring, he can reach that guy* at…” and “If the buyer wants a house with updated wiring, he might need to look at new construction.” (That one’s an actual quote.)**
My realtor is a woman so I haven’t had to deal with any of the “Buying a house all by yourself, little lady?” attitude that you get in a conservative state. I just thought it was interesting that the default for the (male) seller’s agent was “he.”
So the house hunt continues, even though I am not a man.
*That guy was described as an “Army electrician and jack of most trades.” Um, shouldn’t that job description have been “licensed electrician”?
**For the love of god. I don’t need NEW wiring; just wiring that isn’t a fire hazard.
Friday Unrelated Information
1. Mark your calendars and set your alarm clocks, because the metro area Target is opening on Sunday! I have been combining suburban Target trips with visits to my parents for the last SEVEN YEARS, so I will be there on 10/10/10 with bells on.
2. Happy birthday to Frank Herbert, writer of Dune, enabler of geekiness.
3. This week at work I got a chance to use the Don Draper quote to the beatnik in Season 1 of Mad Men:
Beatnik: You’re in advertising? How do you sleep at night?
Don Draper: On a mattress made of money.
Your Coffee May Be Too Strong…
…if your kitty tries to bury it like kitty poop.
I broke my French press over the weekend so now I’m using the stovetop espresso maker. Still trying to get the proportions right.
How Come I Didn’t Know This?
While watching my new imaginary boyfriend* Christopher Eccleston in an episode of Dr. Who set during the Blitz, there was some Glenn Miller playing. Which led me to Wikipedia to learn that Glenn Miller is officially listed as missing in action (presumed dead) because his plane disappeared over the Channel in 1944 while on tour with his Army Air Force Band.
And I thought I liked Miller for “Chattanooga Choo Choo.” Dying while on tour to rally the troops in the war effort is another matter entirely.
*I’m sorry, Dimitri, I’m really enjoying your baritone and your t-shirts, but there’s such a thing as too much music. I’ll call you.
Tuesday Project Roundup: Tiny Little "o rly?"
Finally, I can share the cuteness that is the avian-inspired baby shower gift for a friend:
The owls do have button eyes, but they’re small.
When I heard that one of my few and therefore special girlfriends was having a baby, I knew I had to make something just as special. I wanted to knit and sew, and when I found the owl and bird flannel (from here) everything just clicked: I would make a tiny “Owls” sweater from this pattern (like my big one) and then two simple blankets (just squares sewn together with rick-rack on the edge). I was done with this about six weeks before the baby shower last Saturday–which turned out to be owl-themed! That was a crazy coincidence, ya rly.
Monday’s Poem
Today’s poem is from our buddy Mark Strand, found on the Writer’s Almanac a few weeks ago:
Mirror
A white room and a party going on
and I was standing with some friends
under a large gilt-framed mirror
that tilted slightly forward
over the fireplace.
We were drinking whiskey
and some of us, feeling no pain,
were trying to decide
what precise shade of yellow
the setting sun turned our drinks.
I closed my eyes briefly,
then looked up into the mirror:
a woman in a green dress leaned
against the far wall.
She seemed distracted,
the fingers of one hand
fidgeted with her necklace,
and she was staring into the mirror,
not at me, but past me, into a space
that might be filled by someone
yet to arrive, who at that moment
could be starting the journey
which would lead eventually to her.
Then, suddenly, my friends
said it was time to move on.
This was years ago,
and though I have forgotten
where we went and who we all were,
I still recall that moment of looking up
and seeing the woman stare past me
into a place I could only imagine,
and each time it is with a pang,
as if just then I were stepping
from the depths of the mirror
into that white room, breathless and eager,
only to discover too late
that she is not there.
Friday Unrelated Information
1. The only gymkhana I’d heard about before seeing this involved ponies. This is much cooler.
I bet my Ford could do that.
2. I think I need one of these mod cat prints for my imaginary house:
3. I wanted to find some new sci-fi to geek out about, so I started watching the 2005 Dr. Who series. Let the geeking out begin!
30 Things: A Little Progress
It’s about time for the third quarter report on my 30 Things, but I don’t feel as if I’ve made a lot of progress (in fact, I’ve regressed on riding my bike). But I do have two things done that I’m proud of:
That’s #18 [Stop biting my fingernails] and #2 [Learn more about real estate].
Honestly, I feel that #18 can be up there with paying off debt as a supreme achievement. All it took was noticeable fingernail polish–because then people would notice all my chewed cuticles and hangnails, too–and I stopped.
Simple solutions, books for dummies….who knew?