Who says inanimate objects don’t have a sense of humor?
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Friday, January 23, 2015
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Pulling my trusty sewing machine out of retirement paid off in several ways. Not only do I now have new curtains, but it re-awakened prior knowledge, if a little too late to be useful:
It’s a good thing the McCall’s pattern moguls aren’t asked to take a lie detector test regarding the veracity of their claim of
Home Dec in a Sec! 90 Minute Curtains!
Re-folding sewing pattern tissue so that it will fit neatly back in its ridiculously under-sized envelope is a goal as unobtainable as restoring that map of
to its original shape while sitting in your future
husband’s tiny (but very cool) MGB. Washington
Coordination and focus are key if you want to avoid driving a pin into your thumb while you are feeding fabric into the maw of the machine, thus avoiding the extra ornamentation of blood on the white trim of your project.
Pattern companies grossly overstate the amount of fabric needed. Either that or the same blockheads that wrote the obfuscated and cryptic directions are also the people who measured for yardage.
(Know of anyone interested in a yard and half of perfectly lovely curtain material?)
That grey wooly ball of self-doubt you’ve been living with: that material is too loud, these will never turn out like the picture, this is costing more than if I’d just gone out and bought the damn things –
will all evaporate once you put away the machine, the ironing board, the iron, the pins, the needles, the scissors, and pick up all the tiny fabric bits and thread off the floor, and finally, at long last, stand back and
admire your product.
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Monday, January 19, 2015
Friday, January 16, 2015
Wednesday, January 14, 2015
Sunday, January 11, 2015
We were into day two of EGG sitting. The parents of G major, G minor, and E were away in a magical world without bedtimes, where life was one long play date. One grand boy was back from practice, another home from his friend's house, and dinner was over. The hour before bath and pajama time loomed ahead but I knew we'd be fine with maybe a televised basketball game or an animated something or other to fill the gap, never mind the weekend.
We turned on the TV and saw the words that can strike cold terror into the hearts of grandparents everywhere: NO SIGNAL. My knees buckled slightly and I could have sworn my husband looked paler than he had a moment ago.
What could have happened? The TV had been pouring out news of the latest crisis in Europe all afternoon while the boys were in school. The broadcasting source at this house is satellite rather than the cable we're used to, but I was impressed with the alacrity Grampa EGG showed in researching the problem. He whipped out his iPad and scanned the troubleshooting sites. One comment attributed our issue to the uncharacteristic cold we'd been experiencing. Another explained how they'd tracked wires, changed cables, even splicing a few.
Visions of a 67 year old hanging out over an icy roof or peeling back protective casings of unfamiliar wires flashed across my mind.
Meanwhile, I dug frantically through the family's assortment of DVDs, thinking maybe we could at least turn on a movie.
"Think," I called over my shoulder. "What has changed since this afternoon? The kids haven't been near the TV."
"Nothing. And it was working fine before." He stared at his tablet. "Hey - here's some kind of box we should be looking for."
Using a flashlight left over from someone's Christmas stocking, we pawed through mysterious devices attached to the television, then went on a foray to the basement. No luck. Then it occurred to me that since the dish was on the roof, perhaps it would make sense to look upstairs. Up we went and indeed found the box in question.
I experienced the same rush Stanley must have felt on finding the source of the Nile.
This was it!!
Except the power button was dark, as dark as our prospects in a weekend with three boys under twelve and no television.
Our aging hearts thumping, we tracked the power cord - around the back of the upstairs TV, behind a bureau, and to the wall where instead was plugged the charging cord for Grampa EGG's phone, and the one for the dish connection lying sad and unplugged on the floor.
That day I learned a fresh lesson about mixed emotions. I was grateful for the way my husband had instantly sprung into action to save the day, but he was in fact the reason it had almost kamikazied in the first place.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
An arctic blast is sweeping the US this week, and our travel plans played to our advantage. We headed south - to western New Jersey where this morning it was a tropical 8 degrees compared to our own western Massachusetts' 1.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
Saturday, January 3, 2015
It’s my first blog post of the year and I think it’s important to set the right tone, perhaps even elevate the mind. Here we are entering a shiny new year and it’s always good to get off to a fresh, clean start. So in keeping with that aim, I thought I would begin this year’s posts with . . . .a retrospective of 2014 in bathrooms.