not to be

Well shite. I had to decline a beach trip with friends today because this week I’ve had twenty bucks each day for food etc. (the drought ends tomorrow, on payday/grocery money day). But seriously? I could have used the time out of the house. Especially after this morning when my husband inadvertently (but sort of passive aggressively) woke me early this AM and I couldn’t return to Slumbertown (Population: 4 with the two kids and the two kittens all piled up in bed next to me!). Oh AND of course I’m not drinking coffee which is like the world’s most accessible and quick-acting happy-drug so I kind of slumped around for a while.

But upon reflection I will stop complaining. Wonderful small things were afoot today. The weather was lovely, warm and a little sun peeping out here and there. In the morning while the kids slept I walked down to my mom’s and got that coffee after all. She served me a caffeinated version so soon I was talking even faster than normal – whee! I came home and the kids were still asleep. So I did the dishes and prepared a little breakfast and made some sewing headway (more in a bit) then finished the laundry (which I compulsively have near-done at any given moment). After they woke up the children were lovely, eating breakfast and feeding chickens and brushing hair and teeth running about here and there and outside in their underwear and drawing and reading and hauling our kittens about.  At 2 PM Nels went off to my mother’s to plant corn:


OK, so?  Sometimes in my young son I can see the man he’s going to be. And it makes me cry.

Sewing?  Well, good news and bad news. I completed a linen dress with near-perfection in finishing technique:

Lining to Zipper

& yet sadly, in altering the pattern to fit my daughter the thing ended up with a horrid shape. I refuse to even post pictures of the finished garment. Sadly, my daughter grabbed it up and slipped it on and insisted she liked it. I begged her to at least wear her sweater over the dress if she had to wear it. I do not want this weak sauce garment representing my canon of (usual) awesomeness.

She refused.

On the positive side of all things krafty, cutting and marking and interfacing proceeds promisingly for my vintage Vogue pattern, a little tiered dress I ordered from Etsy. This dress was chosen because it was the smallest size in our recently-ordered batch of four (it seems vintage children’s patterns have larger sizes than today’s) and, more importantly, a garment that can be made from fabrics in my meager stash:
Vogue Tiered Dress, Fabrics

I have more things to say about this pattern soon; it is almost sixty years old and pretty fabulous and different!

Now seriously? I have to get in a hot bath with my daughter, then into my PJs and an ice cold beer – and then I have to hold kittens. All night. They really and truly need so much holding. So, <deep sigh!>, someone’s gotta do it.
Kitten Contemplation

the worst kind of benefactor of them all

Oh god, it’s past 10:30 PM so I’m kind of too tired out to go through the whole cycle of blame.

I mean it would seem at first like the fault lies squarely with my mother, but actually the catastrophic snowball shame effect began days ago, when Karen and Shelly posted a Thank You to their pattern testers on the blog… and naturally I wanted to glance through the websites and photos of those I keep company with, as a pattern tester… and maybe to Ralph and the kids and my mother I talked a little about this or that, and maybe at lunch the other day on a totally separate topic I encouraged my mom to go visit her ex-boyfriend, because she’d been so into him and exclusive and they had a torrid affair then she dropped him like yesterday’s moldy potatoes… Well…

Long story short:

My MOTHER – who heard me wistful about the two kittens I’d seen on the abovementioned blog (and maybe I said I’d like to ADOPT two kitties but in the future when we can afford them! I was sure to add) – went out to her ex-boyfriend’s place (on my advice being a friendly daughter!) and he coincidentally produced two kittens out of the tandem strains of awkwardness and his (now-unrequited) love for her, and she came directly from the little commune out there and SHOWED UP ON MY DOORSTEP and when I opened the door she blurted out, “I have kittens” and proceeded to get them out for me, and just as my stomach sank and the kids swarmed over them and made every promise under the sun to care for them, and I said, “Mom… I can’t afford ‘free kittens’ right now, I mean we had to borrow grocery money from you this week, and they need de-flea’ing and food and shots and…” she then promised to pay for these various and sundry, thereby rendering herself a Kitten Benefactor if you will, and this news was so surprising and allowed the crack of hope to form in my stone heart such that I shared with my husband and upon hearing the financial bounty he took back his threat about bringing home a Drownin’ Sack, and my mom went out and got their little litterbox and litter and food and enough flea medicine for the next eight months for all my kitties ($60 just for this medicine!), and we cuddled and loved up the little Fish Mongers and the kids were so happy and I felt all tickled and then she said,

“Well, I gotta get back to work,”

And left us with these Ridiculous! Little! Bundles! of Doom! It was like this huge TRICK!

So the kids and I whipped the house into shape and made the beds up and put out fresh water and food (some fancy-ass shit!) then piled warm laundry in a makeshift bed for them.  While I finished chores and packed our bikes for a trip out the children instinctively began ascertaining litterbox training (the cats were indeed tidy in this respect) and by the time we biked by my mom’s she was out in the yard so we all went to eat lunch at an outdoor ale house and hey, while we’re celebrating let’s each have a spicy Bloody Mary. And my mom paid for most of lunch and the kids and I picked up groceries for homemade pizza and we headed home and had a summer afternoon and evening with our new babies and the neighbor kids and my mom later came over for the pizza too.

I seriously do not know how today became a ridiculous party. But it did.

Welcome to the household, Hamilton (female):
Tiger-Like Markings

and Laurence (male):
Laurence, The One With

Who can count and tell me how many mouths Ralph’s income has to feed?
This Is Bullsh*t