However, now that I’ve become domesticated I have acquired hobbies. Here in the United States people inquire about your profession.  But in other places, the interesting thing about a new acquaintance is their hobbies.  I guess in other countries people have time to have hobbies?

Whatever.  I’m not sure how I can possibly keep the scrapbooks that I began when I realized the inherited 70s collections were rotting.  I don’t know how I’ll ever finish them.  That’s a whole accidental hobby by itself.  And there is the related and completely time-consuming family history and genealogy.

Unrelated I have sewing.  Sewing is practical.  And I might argue that it is necessary.  But that would be silly since we won’t go naked if I don’t sew.  I rarely sew garments.

I also have this blog.

So now I have acquired hobbies, a fair amount of accessories for each, and have very little time.  If the girls didn’t just look elven, but could actually behave like elves and help me, then we could do all of the hobbies.  That is not likely to happen anytime soon.  DD7 has her own scrapbook.  It’s great.  But it looks like a seven year old did it (as it should).  So I probably shouldn’t hand over the scrapbooking scissors and irreplaceable photographs.  DD1 harasses DD7 from under the kitchen table, trying to climb up into her lap and grab things off the table.  So… scrapbooking is out as a family activity.

Ditto genealogy, blogging and sewing.

Boo, hiss.

We do sort of exercise together.  I have rubberbands that I use to work out.  I purchased more of them so that we could all share and nobody would fuss over not getting to hold one.  But DD1 wants whichever one someone else is holding, regardless of whether or not she has one, nearly identical, in her own hands.  DD7 has only a marginally better attitude.  She doesn’t covet the rubber band I’m using.  She instead wants to jump over one like jump-rope, in the house next to lamps, hook one over her sister, or swing one wildly like a whip.  She appears unable or unwilling to remember this from day to day.  Either way, somebody ends up laying on the floor yelling.

Sometimes I think it should be me.

I began stalking the eBay auctions. These American Girl dolls are pricey, even used! It seems the least expensive dolls, in good condition, sell for about $76, without any accessories. Those with accessories, often go for over $100, which is more than a new doll. Hands down, the Jess doll is the most frivolous thing I have ever wanted for my birthday, as an adult.

Oddly enough, women seem very understanding about this. And even DH, who often looks baffled by female behavior, didn’t appear surprised. My very practical sister in law said that she would like to have one too.

I bid on a doll after Christmas, and won her. She arrived early, on my actual birthday. And amazingly USPS delivered her to our house, instead of to a neighbor. She came with her pet monkey, passport, notebook, purse, two bathing suits, and her meet outfit.

We call her Jessie. DD7 and DD1 love her. DD7 is crazy about the bathing suits, which she puts on Kanani and Jessie most of the time. DD1 is most interested in brushing the dolls hair. (And her own, and mine.)

We’re really having a good time with the dolls.

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DD6 has become comfortable in the water. And she is now willing to move away from the stairs and side of the pool. She was obsessed with the swim noodles that neighbor’s children had. So I relented and got one for her. For whatever reason, she thinks she can swim with the noodles, but not the kickboard. Whatever, I just care that she is willing to try.

I am delighted to get a bit of a workout. Kicking around the pool, pushing DD1 won’t do much to help my upper body. But its fun. And it keeps everybody occupied for a while. Maybe my legs will benefit.

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She said, oh, not at all.  You should see what others bring in here.  She changed her mind when I returned, and hadn’t been able to get them on the hanger.  I said sorry for the tangled mess.  She said, thank you, in that way that says F you.  lol.

I felt sorry for parents shopping with teen children.  One boy was grumbling about having to model for his mother what he had chosen.  Several mothers of girls said that next time they’d drop the girls off and come back in an hour.  But if the girls had picked out anything inappropriate, that next time mom would just buy what she found acceptable and the girl would be stuck with it.  This seems a universally acceptable mother statement.  I was hearing it all over the store, with various interpretations of what was encouraged, forbidden, and would happen if the forbidden clothing made its way home.

Playa Del Carmen – Swimsuit Issue by ex_magician

After reading all of the buying tips in How Not to Look Fat, by Charla Krupp, I decided that I don’t have it so bad.  Apparently, there are women out there who are too mortified of their imperfections to go all summer without wearing shorts.  And who will wear dark colors from head to toe, every day, with shapewear underneath.

Yeah, I’m not doing that.  I’m far from perfect.  But I’m not willing to roast.

The thing about fashion advice, is that you have to figure out which things apply to you, then which things you’re willing to endure.  I can work with navy blue dresses, but not usually black.  I refuse to give up white shirts, peach and turquoise in the name of “No Fat” dressing.  I need the brighter colors to keep from looking like a corpse.  Looking thinner, but anemic is not a good look, imho.

I found oil – argan, linseed and flax – for my hair, a knock-off brand for nine dollars.  Wee!  The Aveda that the salon sells is 25 dollars for a tiny bottle.  It’s great stuff.  But ouch, expensive.  It’s funny that I actually put oil in my hair.  Curly hair is such a challenge.

I ended up buying two suits, and the oil.  I took two of the suits out of the dressing room, so I could find them one size smaller (hallelujah).  But I wasn’t able to, put one back on the rack, and picked up another that I hadn’t been able to find in the correct size, as I walked up to the registers.  The one I hadn’t tried on fits – and looks positively matronly!  Ugh.  That one is going back for certain.  It’s cute on the hanger, a turquoise, black and white print.  And the top fits great.  The bottom has boy legs that go straight across like a horizontal line in front and back.  So unflattering!  The other one is a two peice with a black bottom and multicolored halter top.  It’s a little bit too big all over, so doesn’t provide much in the way of support.  And I’m concerned that it might sag and become revealing when it gets wet.  So I haven’t decided if I’m going to keep it.  I think now that I have overcome my fear of trying on bathing suits it’ll be okay.  I’ll find something that isn’t too mortifying to wear out in public.

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Cradle Position in Pouch

I call all of the baby carriers a pouch.  Because it reminds me of kangaroos.  But this one is actually called a Maya Wrap or a ring sling.  I really couldn’t get anything done without it.

In theory, I could nurse her in the carrier that is actually called a pouch and is just a folded piece of fabric with a curved seam.  But I’ve never been able to master that.  I think that you might need to have a looser pouch.  And I don’t want a looser pouch.  Because the ones I have are already loose enough that DD can stand up and thrash about in if she’s really determined.

Anyway, I nearly always take this style baby carrier when we’re out in public, since I can breastfeed the baby in public without much chance of exposing myself.  Although, DD is getting into that irritating phase where she wants to nurse and she wants to look around at the same time.

Baby in Pouch

I love the pouch style carrier.  If I had more time, I’d make five more of them.  Pretty much one or more of the baby carriers is always in the wash.  DD gets sick on them constantly.  Of course, if I had time to make five more of them, I probably wouldn’t need five more of them.

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And I’m not looking at an ingredient list for a bag. I’d just like it to be a brand that isn’t going to fall apart. And by that I mean, that I have used them and haven’t torn out the lining, the zipper, etcetera within a short span of time. Those brands all seem to carry no red at all, or a deep red.

I don’t understand this. Red occurs in nature.

epiphanie by MissMessie

What I should do is buy a red fabric that I love. And make it into a bag. But that requires energy. And if I had energy, my house would be cleaner.

Maybe it’s 80s nostalgia. I nearly bought a lime green bag.

Ack. I wrote this post almost a week ago, but didn’t post it. Nice job – not. I have since given up on finding red. I ordered an aqua color Tignanello bag.

Tomorrow is St. Patrick’s Day. DD proudly told me she found something green to wear: panties. Of course, I explained that she won’t be showing those to anyone and found her a green pair of pants.

On the up side, I have recently resumed the purge of unnecessary household objects. And have delivered several carloads of stuff that was cluttering up the garage and house to Goodwill and The Place. This makes me feel much better, in spite of the fact that the stuff had piled up so high in the first place. At least now we’re going in the right direction.

Cleaning out my grandmother’s apartment really put me behind in my own cleaning. And then… I brought many of her belongings to my house. Trumpet please, announcing way too much stuff. I had given so many of her possessions to charity and friends that I felt that I should keep more things out of respect than I actually needed.

However, I have just given the wool sweaters to Aunt D. I had tried to line them so that I could wear them myself. But it looked ugly. So I gave up on the lining and then just held onto the sweaters waiting to find somebody who could wear them. When I realized Aunt D is the same size and wears wool, I brought the sweaters over. I’m glad they have a new home. I just couldn’t bear to throw them in the donation bin. My grandmother loved those sweaters. I needed be sure to give them to somebody who would really enjoy them.

I have felt so lousy the past several weeks that I have done very little writing. So much so that when I finally tried to log in to my sewing blog, I found the account locked. Fortunately, this was easily fixed with a note to support.

In my absence, the today.com network has changed their revenue policies. I think this will be for the better. But I haven’t fully check it out. Another thing I must see about.

I managed to make money on another venue on royalties from past work, in spite of my current lag monster status. That was nice and cheered me up for a minute.

The knitting is going pretty well, generally. I received my orders from Knitpicks and Elan. And I’ve been experimenting and working on a simple scarf. It seems that I can tolerate alpaca. I’m working with an alpaca/silk/nylon blend yarn. It took a while to get used to it. But now I seem to be able to keep the tension pretty even. Hopefully, when the scarf is finished, I’ll be able to wear it around my neck and not have to give it away.

I got a very brief note from grandmas attorney. As soon as I saw the envelope I had terrible anxiety. Of course they want to know if I’ve closed everything out. And I have not. Every time I do something related to my grandmothers estate it just spirals out into a drama. I feel ill just thinking about it. Still the end is in sight. After months and months, less items that need to be addressed by me are rolling in. The only things really problematic left are family related. Which is where I see doom.

Car two in front of mine hit a skunk this morning. I’m sure it was unavoidable. Traffic on the other side of the road, and a ditch on the other make for no way to swerve. My car smells. I cannot imagine the horrible smell the driver of the car which actually hit the skunk must endure.

Skunks! by Mat Honan

I got into an elevator with an obviously pregnant woman. I don’t presume to know who is pregnant and who is not. Except that she was thin all over, but had an obvious round belly, came out of the obstetricians office, and was tucking ultrasound photographs into her purse.

She held the elevator for me. And so I thought I would make pleasant conversation. I said thanks and asked when her baby is due. She said end of January. I said and you’re so thin, lucky you. I meant this to be a compliment. I was smiling and not being sarcastic.

Her husband said smugly, “Well isn’t that a nice way to say bitch.”

I said, “No not really. I really mean, how nice for her.”

Then I took a better look at them. Because I am wondering wtf kind of spiteful person would think that. Maybe I’m not all that verbally elegant. But I hardly think I was insulting and should illicit that response. I’m not a teenage girl. I’m a grown woman. I can be happy for other people, even strangers, without thinking it will bring my own doom.

He was dark and Northern looking. His expression was very smug. She was all tarted up, and probably forty something. She had a blonde spiral perm and wore a lot of makeup. And she dressed all in black fitted clothes and very high heels. When I had initially seen her; I imagined DH’s voice in my head saying that she is too made up.

They happened to be parked in the car next to mine, a very fancy black import. I didn’t talk to them after his snarky comment. But I waved to her to indicate not to wait for me to pull out first. I tried to forget them. But I feel like some of the husbands creepy smugness got on me. And I need to wash it off somehow. I hadn’t really noticed him. But I was thinking kind thoughts about the wife until he spoke. She seemed nice enough. He was just so ick.

The weather has been strange, one day in the 30s, then next 10 to 20 degrees warmer. I usually hate when that happens. But for some reason my hair has behaved for three days in a row. So I will not curse the weather.

I meant to order handmade Christmas gifts for the teachers. But I didn’t and now school will be out in a week. So I have to find something cute and handmade already in the house or give a less personal gift. I don’t want to make anything, because I’m feeling yukky. And things don’t come out well when I feel yukky.

Blah, blah, blah.

Oh, and I’m totally pissed off that the new state law requires proof of citizenship to enroll in ESOL classes. The classes are citizenship classes, and federally funded. So you’re not going to let would-be citizens take advantage of the federally funded program to learn how to speak English better and be more productive. Yeah, some racist prick thought of that I’m sure.

So the ESOL class that I tutor will be one third to one half smaller next semester. And those non-citizens will be studying on their own. I completely agree with deporting criminals, actual criminals, but not keeping hard working people out of citizenship classes. That is just un-American to me.

Needless to say, the place is a mess. And I am going to have to break down and donate some more items. Because I cannot possibly refashion them fast enough. And I don’t want the clutter.

I did bust some fabric stash though, by finally refashioning my curtains and reusing the blackout fabric to make new blackout drapes. That took up seven yards of toile, which sadly, is nothing. I still have three yards of that pattern toile occupying a roll in the corner, two bins full of fabric, and random bits stored in drawers and closets.

I refuse to become my mother. I refuse to become my mother… My mother had an entire closet full of fabric, plus random stash around the house, and did nothing with it. So I’m already ahead of her game by actually sewing things. But still, the mess must be contained. I attempt to keep it to the two bins and forbid myself from buying anything else until any overflow is sewn up.

This is what happens when one forgets to use drywall screws.

Oops, forgot to use the drywall screws.

I marked the (new) locations, made the pilot holes, then forgot to set the anchors. Instead, I just put in the generic screws that came with the drapery rod. And put up my very heavy blackout drapes. Then I went to sleep.

Fortunately, this happened first thing in the morning. It would have really sucked if the drape fell down in the middle of the night. Between the street light on the corner and the neighbors holiday decorations, the front of my house is as bright as a runway. It would have been like the sun rising with a big thud.

Not that we slept anyway. DH kept moving around. I forgot to take my allergy medicine and woke up itchy. Then DD crawled into our bed crying, and with a fever.

SSs birthday bash was a success. Aunt D found a lot of old photos of SS and hung them up. And his little cousins decorated with hand drawn congratulations posters. There was one withering look sent across the room. But other than that it was all chummy chaos, which is good stuff.

DD pestered me all week to make certain MILs friend would attend. Then she didn’t pay him much attention.

I have scheduled activities for DD every day this coming week. So she won’t be bored having the time off from school. I hope she feels better tomorrow and can enjoy herself. If not, at least she has plenty of time to rest.

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hybrid poplar

Life is looking quite normal at the moment, which is a little scary. DD and SS are impressing us with their ability to act their ages. DD is obsessed with all things Hello Kitty, gawdy and holiday. SS is pleased to work into conversation that he is really smart and has a girlfriend.

I have committed myself to going to the library at least once a week to slog through paperwork, since I lack the discipline to do it at home where even cleaning the toilet seems a more attractive task. Secured in the library; I have little other choice. Also, it just seems less horrible.

The poplar tree is one of my attempts at framing a photo subject naturally. When I planted it; it was three feet tall. And DH swore that it would never shade the house while we were alive to enjoy it. But it is now up over the house. And he instead claims that it is going to shatter in the wind and destroy the house, due to its rapid growth.

The sewing blog has been up for almost ten months now and regularly receives both very nice fan mail and hate mail, sometimes in the form of comments on the blog. And sometimes by email. Oh, then there is spam, which has always been around, but is ever increasing. Last week someone felt it necessary to tell me that she thinks one of my projects looks like crap. This causes me to wonder, what compels a persons to go to the trouble of authenticating a comment to insult someone. Had it been worded in any other way, I would have thought it was just miscommunication, since I make those errors all the time. But looks like crap is pretty clear.

I am attempting, again, to convince myself to take the MAT or GRE. But I am horrified by standardized tests. Seriously, I used to puke in the bushes outside of class before exams. I know that is insane. And I tell myself that I did actually graduate college and can manage one standardized test. And yet, I have not.

The holiday season has begun. And typically, is really fun at the moment. By January, I’ll just want to hide in my room and turn off the phone. We’ve already had a celebration with one BIL and family, and at DDs school. SSs birthday is this weekend. And then next week both kids are off and there is a dentist appointment, playdate and Thanksgiving.

Yes, by 2010, we’ll be exhausted.