…don’t Twix it.
Friday was fun. I participated in a skit on communication do’s-and-don’ts during the monthly staff meeting for the attorneys and paralegals. I got to yell! I was probably the loudest anybody has ever heard me be, at work. [These good folks didn’t know me when I had five kids, 11 and under, before we moved to Fredericksburg and had a home office, and I had to learn to correct our children quietly. Which in a way was the beginning of the end for a couple of my kids, because if they didn’t get told at triple forte, they just blew me off. (You know who you are.)]
Anyway, I got to yell to “my attorney” who was spazzing on the phone, that she should just tell the court that her client probably hadn’t planned to have a (fictional) death in the family. And that the judge would just have to understand.
As you can see, the tie skirt is finished, except for tying off the elastic and burying the ends. I stitched neatly down the middle of the bias tape to make two channels; I threaded skinny elastic first through the bottom channel and then through the top one, leaving two tails. I’ll adjust the fit when I put the skirt on Jessica [or Cuprit].
I really enjoyed this project. There is something so satisfying about hand-stitching something from start to finish. Now I want to make the tulle underskirt, which will be far less aggravating if I use my machine. I haven’t set it up since moving to the duplex, so I guess the next item of business is to find a wall outlet that isn’t in use and is relatively close to a large, flat surface.
I had grand ideas about rearranging the studio today: moving the shelves over against the wall I share with the other half of the duplex to reduce visual clutter when I look in the doorway. Moving the fainting couch across the room to where the shelves now stand. Moving the table against the south wall, between the windows, and the filing cabinets and marble table top against the north wall, and putting the last of the storage bins into the closet. But I woke about 1:30 to feel that first treacherous slosh inside my head that signifies the onset of sinus issues, and I have been steadily pillaging my box of Puffs for the past two and a half hours.
This is what I get for eating healthy food on Thursday.
Brother Sushi and I had dinner at Charleston’s last night. He had steak. I tried their meatloaf, which I might like even better than I do my own, with the garlicky mashed potatoes and the supremely decadent glazed carrots. Even better than the chicken fried steak I had last time [with the same sides], though Massey’s still fights for top honors with Star Cafe where chicken fried steak is concerned.
I am supposed to pick up Fourthborn later this morning and hit the fabric stores. She wants to get stuff to make her Halloween costume, and then we will catch an inexpensive lunch. I am thinking tortilla soup from Bueno. I am also thinking of simmering a can of Ro-Tel with a quart of chicken stock and calling it breakfast.
But first I am going to try getting a bit more sleep. Wish me luck!
- Four 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!