About Me

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Five years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!

Monday, May 28, 2007


The Problem: a television with a Madonna complex, in that it wants to flash its underwires.

The Solution: a quick phone call to Brother Sushi, and an offer of lasagna in exchange for his schlepping said TV out to the dumpster as either appetizer or dessert.

And since the dining room is still tidy from when we cleaned for last weekend, a photomontage to give you a feel for why I like this space so much.

I spent about three hours one Sunday morning a couple of years ago, using Brother Sushi’s laser level and some blue painter’s tape and only a modicum of childbirth words to get the Mae West quote up on the wall.

It’s rubdown type, from http://wallwords.com/ and available in many colors, matte or gloss, many fonts, your choice of their quotes or your own quote, and multiple sizes. Something for every philosophy and budget. When I am ready to move, all I have to do is goose it with my blow dryer, and all the lettering will shrivel up and die like the Wicked Witch when Dorothy splashed her.

“Love cures all things, except poverty and toothache.” ~ Mae West

If you squint really hard, you’ll see a tiny brown and yellow chicken that my sister made for me from two log cabin quilt blocks, on top of the bookcase to the right of my button collection .

The “I [heart] the single life” license plate was a gift from Brother Stilts when he moved. The eagle quilt is one that I made for my father in the early 1980’s. He served for many years in the Army. The medals are LittleBit’s, for musical excellence.

Underneath the four tall red candlesticks is a cabinet that needs new supports for the glass shelves that are carefully stacked inside, also a parting gift from Brother Stilts. It has leaned with its face against the wall since we moved in four years ago. That might be one of my next projects.

The short wall features an art quilt that I finished in 2003. I paid $5.00 for a bag containing half a yard of mystery fabric (the gaudy floral print), and I was supposed to combine it with other fabrics to make a quilt top. I didn’t finish it in time for that challenge (in 2002), but I did have it ready for the Quilter’s Guild of Dallas show in March 2003.

Virtually every flower has a hand-dyed button stitched in its center. The central motif is shards of heart exploding out of a heart outline, against the backdrop of sunset and skyscrapers. The title is “Broken Heart, Big City”, and while it looks lovely on the boring white wall of my apartment, there is insufficient contrast in values for it to have looked good in the natural lighting at the quilt show. I walked right past it! A sin like unto not recognizing your own child in the school play!

Below that is a poster of a French street scene, and below that is my Duncan Phyfe wannabe drop-leaf table, old but not antique, that I found in a consignment shop. You can’t see behind the ladder-back chair, but there is a “flower” arrangement made of buttons stacked and twisted into florist wire. I saw something like that in the Sundance Catalog years ago at a ridiculous price, and I made my own from my button stash for only the cost of the florist wire.

I'll save the photo of The Chastity Bed and the pillow I call “the nun I am living like” for another day.


Tola said...

Sometimes it doesn't matter the reason behind the obedience.

Tan said...

Hey, did you know Tola and I are practically neighbors? She only lives a couple of hours away from me. Except she wouldn't want to live in my neighborhood, it's dangerous. I just want to let you know that my church sock has died a permanent death. I am going to have to go back to double points or get a much bigger purse. And use a pattern. And pick yarn that I like. I haven't seen yours lately. You must have finished them while I wasn't looking. I will probably start taking Paul's brown sock to church again. It can't look dirty from being in the purse, and it will never get done if I don't knit on it in a captive environment.

Lynn said...

Tola, I say often that it's better to do a good thing for the wrong reason than not to do the good thing at all.

Tan, I know all about living in bad neighborhoods. I've lived in plenty, which might be a good topic for a future blog post, because I've been pondering that recently.