It’s a family tradition. [Besides which, Thin Mints are the sock yarn of the cookie world. Sock yarn doesn’t count as stash, and Thin Mints don’t count as calories.] Pour a mug of milk, rip open the Mylar sleeve, and chew until blissfully unconscious. The first sleeve was dessert after a sensible dinner last night, my own variation on Dutch courage, which I needed in order to tackle hemming up LittleBit’s costume. The second sleeve was celebration after shortening the skirt 5” and the crinoline 8”.
I found her a cute black ribbon corsage at JoAnn’s and a 4-yard bolt of black grosgrain ribbon for her sash. I also bought two packages of white double-fold bias tape to re-hem the crinoline. And then I realized I could accomplish the task far more easily by stitching two deep tucks in the top tier of the crinoline, thus saving all that ruffly lusciousness in the bottom tier. I must say that the dress is looking very Laura Petrie.
I think I want that corsage when we’re done with the costume. I wonder if I will have to arm-wrestle her for it?
I guess this means I can take the double-fold bias tape back to the store. That would pretty much cover the cost of a second corsage, if LittleBit decides she wants to keep this one. Though if she does, we’re going to have to make sure we don’t do the Bobbsey Twins thing at church some Sunday. We’re both a little too old for mommy-daughter dressing.
OK, let me state for the record that Firestarter is a whole lot easier once you move up to the larger needles on the leg. All of a sudden, those little twisted knit stitches are way less of a pain in the patoot. I pretty much twisted the night away, listening to and occasionally watching “Grumpy Old Men”. I borrowed it from Leslye when I took her bobbin back after work tonight. And I had forgotten how funny it is. The soundtrack is great.
Maybe I can channel enough Ariel tomorrow night at dinner that I have a better time than I recently have had at the dance afterward. [Well, not the “I like you, John, let’s go to bed” part. But the openness and the feistiness, that’s what I like and would like to incorporate more of.] This will be my third dinner with the pre-dance-dinner bunch, and my first not tagging along with Brother Sushi. He is mysteriously out of pocket this weekend.
And I have a coupon for free queso, woohoo! because I knew that Richard Nixon was a Quaker.
I had a little fun with my managing attorney today. She made reference in an email to “the fact that Eli is going to whip Tom's bottom on Sunday”.
I shot back, “Eli Whitney? Tom Brokaw? Enquiring minds want to know...”
To which she responded, “Very funny. You ARE kidding, right?”
And I countered with, “I am the Anti-Sports, remember? [Though I do seem to recall that Eli Whitney has been gone for a week or two, and I can't picture Tom Brokaw spiking the ball or dancing around in the end field.]
“You'll be watching the Superbowl. As will my sister and at least one of my sons-in-law. I'll be reading a book or taking a nap. Or quite possibly knitting, with a movie in the DVD player.”
Do I have my priorities straight, or what?
On facing fears:
[Link for anybody who might need it.]
- 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!