Spinning Top

You know you are surrounded by die-hard fans when people start throwin' their underwear at the Star Wars characters...and the underwear happen to be mens briefs. 

I'm feeling a little dizzy. Been saying Yes! Let's do it! and Oh! Count me in! to one too many things lately. I feel like a spinning top, whirling around, trying to do more and more while going faster and faster.

Chewbacca attempting to autograph some kids hat which is difficult when you have furry man hands. At least that is what I'm told. I wouldn't know as I have the delicate hands of a lady. Except for that wicked middle finger which has a mind of it's own.

Don't get me wrong, it's all been great fun. Like Star Wars weekend with hubs, going to see Chihuly with some girlfriends, hosting an art party this time with kids and without grown-up drinks (which may or may not have helped us all) ... and all that in a week's time. Yeah, that's a lot. Now you see why I'm dizzy.

Can you tell I  like this project? The end result is just amazing. I think I'll kick off the school year with a similar project, now that I've got this lesson perfected.

 And while I love having fun things to do, it's when I try doing too much I hit spinning top mode: crashing into things and making huge messes while wobbling out of control. So, I'm going to slow down. Focus. Lock myself in my craft room and make stuff.

The Loft at Henpeck Market. I now have belts in this great shop. If you have never been you must go -- it is a country grocery store and restaurant on the first level (the look that Cracker Barrel attempts) and the most surprisingly big and fun shop on the second level. I am in the best part of the Loft: Jondie Boutique!

Because I've got plenty of work to do. Turns out that I've not only been saying count me in to friends, but other belt-related stuff too. Eek! Much to do!

All of which I plan to do...right after returning from this place: Sandestin, Florida. I've never been. Usually our Florida encounters involve theme parks but not beaches. I'm very excited. And a little nervous. I'm going with a group of pals from school...and I keep hearing this voice-over in my head:

This is the true story... of seven strangers... picked to live in a house...work together and have their lives taped... to find out what happens... when people stop being polite... and start getting real...The Real World.

Yeah, I think we'll pass on the "lives taped" portion of Sandestin: The Real World. No one needs to see this spinning top in a bikini!

How are you?

 Some new belts, reversible and embroidered. 

Lovin' my sewing machine and all it's bells and whistles.

If you were one of the two people that read my last post (thanks, Mom and Alison), then you may recall that I said I was gonna take the summer easy. That would be AFTER my first week of up-and-at-'em's, go-get-'ems and let's hop to it's. In keeping with that short-lived theme, I was up at 4:30am this morning and out the door running by 5.

 ...look who's been cooking! And by "cooking", I mean tearing open a box of something, throwing it in a bowl with some butter and zapping it in the micro. Just like Grandma used to make!

This is probably where I should explain my definition of "running". Imagine a tired toddler chasing after a deflated ball and you've got me. So why not call this "jogging"? Because that would be a stretch. It's more like jalking. Anything to prevent the onset of sweat and the burning of calories, says me.

 I am very excited to now be in the What's In Store! Thank you, Rebecca!

I swear I was going somewhere with this, it's just taking me a while. Kinda like me jalking. Anyway, while I was out this morning, I encountered a real runner who, when passing me by at  break neck speed, asked the age old question: How are you? 

 To celebrate the end of the school year, we had a Art/Yay-the-Kids-Are-Gone party at my house last week. These masterpieces were created by some undiscovered talents -- amazing!

I paused before answering this question. To really ponder it. Or maybe to catch my freakin' breath. It was then that I realized that my initial response to this question is usually either something negative or sarcastic. But since I hardly had enough wind to breathe, let alone complete a sentence, I managed a "Fine, you?"

My quilt-a-holic music teacher friend created this one.

Okay, I have to tell you, this dude was old. Like, white hair, running outfit from the 1970's, more wrinkles than my clothes on any given day: OLD. So when he responded "I am terrific. It is a great day!", I thought, well of course you think the day's great, you don't have very many of 'em left.

These ladies are so creative and willing to try anything new. My friend Jeni came up with a different technique and took the project to another level. But she's like that...

Then I thought harder (after which smoke and a burning smell soon followed) and realized why didn't I think the day was great also? The sun was just rising, there was a wonderful combination of warm air and cool breeze, my day's agenda consists of visiting a friend, shopping and packing for a trip: What's not great about that? 

 Taking this guy to Nashville Clothing Company today. Another amazing shop!

Even if my to-do list was less interesting, shouldn't I regard every day as Grrr-eat (yes, I just channeled Tony the Tiger)? I'm gonna try. Which shouldn't be too much of a stretch for the next couple of months. Ask me again on August 4th and we'll see what kind of answer I come up with!

Summertime...

Summertime in the Sixties

  Clockwise starting with the blurry laughing lady: Grandma Marilyn, Grandpa John (who appears to be tweaking my grandma), Uncle Keith, Aunt Donna, my mother (guess who I inherited my big mouth from) and my Aunt Lottie in the middle.

I'm down to the hours before my summer vacay begins. I absolutely cannot wait. The first week off from school, I'm always so gung ho: waking up early, scratching items off my to-do list, cooking, cleaning, yard working. By the second week, that's all pretty much ended and I slide into my summertime routine.

 Mom getting her belly rubbed by Grandma while it looks as though someone's about to cool off my Grandpa. I would love see a Part 2 to this photo as my drenched Grandpa chases after who I assume was my Uncle Keith.

My real summer routine involves sleeping in, eating ice cream at least twice daily, reading trashy Brit-chic novels and thrifting. Every school year I day dream of all of the things I am going to accomplish during the summer and every summer I manage to do a whole lotta nuthin. But this summer is gonna be different.

Summertime in the Seventies

Left to right: Me, Cuz Angie, Aunt Judy. My Grandpa Eddy made our dining table and chairs. I love the red wagon and the Sit -n- Spin in the background.

And when I say "different" it's not because I plan to change or improve or actually do something about my lack of accomplishment. I plan to embrace the laziness. Love it. Wrap my arms around it and squeeze it. I mean, it's what summer is all about, right? At the end of every summer, I always beat myself up over not accomplishing this or that. Not any more.

Summertime in the Eighties
My Grandma Marilyn and Grandpa Eddy (her second hubs after G-pa John) took the three of us girls to Florida almost every summer growing up. She sent this postcard to mom.

My Grandma loved Florida...and I love that she signed the postcard "Florida People". I miss those summers with her.

My to-do list is going to involve the following: catching up with friends, watching some old movies (Hitchcock, preferably)  and eating deep fried snack foods with reckless abandon because they are delicious. Oh, and doing silly stuff with cat hair. For this, hubs and I decided to get a jump-start...

Um, yeah. That's all Asha hair. She's been shedding (and hairballing) like madness lately, so Mitch decided to give her a little brushing. We're planning on opening our own Troll Doll factory.

Needless to say, Asha was not impressed with our creative endeavor. I can read her kitty-cat mind: Boy, it's gonna be a long summer.

DIY: The 1950's Butt-Tickler

Me trying to look 1950's domestic. Don't let the bowls and cookbooks in the background fool you -- I only bought them to match the decor.

Okay, I am totally prone to bragging, so let me just say this and get it out of my system and then I promise to not bring it up again for another 10 seconds: I MADE THIS DRESS! I know, I can't believe it either. Probably because it's only partically true. Ahem, lemme correct myself: I MADE THIS DRESS WITH THE HELP OF MY GREAT FRIEND DEBBIE (and by "help" I mean she did all of the hard, incomprehensible, rocket science-esque parts).

Speaking of, here she is workin' hard while I snap artsy photos and drink yet another of her delicious vodka, pomegranate and lime juice concoctions. She could really go in the cocktail biz.

Debbie and I have been planning our weekend of Memphis Craft for-evuh. I drove there right after school on Friday (while listening to Shudder Island on tape...yikes!...it got so spooky in some parts that I noticed myself driving slower and slower down the highway, even jumping when the CD accidentally skipped) and after a hot bowl of steamy soup and some delish cornbread, we jumped right in to the making of this dress:

Next on my fashion agenda: Bring back the dish-washing gloves with bangles look. Tres chic!

It's a pattern from the late 1950's/early 1960's that I found thrifting. This is my favorite era of dress and I've accumulated quite the stash of these kind of patterns. I have always wanted to sew from  them...but having never been very successful with patterns, following directions or anything that involves concentration and brain power, I've never tried...until now (please read last two words in your best James Earl Jones voice).

This portion of the pattern even stumped Debbie, though only temporarily. Notice the italicized writing: The portion of zipper which extends below waistline seam is free. That's right, a Free Zipper. Hangin' loose, free as a bird.

So following a pattern wasn't as impossible as I'd always thought, but it's definitely time consuming. I mean, the dresses from that era were no one-hour-and-then-you're-done affairs. They involved a lot time, focus and attention to detail. You know, the stuff my dresses from Forever21 seem to be lacking. We managed to knock out all hard parts which left me to finish the hem, the sleeve hem, buttons and belt. Oh! And the Butt-Tickler! 

  One of my kindergartener's clay snowman, sculpted in a 1/2 hour, thank you very much. I dare say all of these snowman brought us the good luck of a SNOW DAY!

Thankfully, I have the good fortune of a snow day today! With my time, I checked all of those dress to-do's off my list. Except for the dangling, butt-tickling zipper...I think I might keep that for a while!

Thanks again, Debbie and fam for having me! I had the best time...