Zoom Zoom

It's nearly 1 a.m. on Labor Day. My sleep schedule is more than a little wonky this weekend. I have allowed myself to just be during these days off. That sometimes means that I fall asleep in the recliner with a purring cat in my lap and I don't awaken for an hour. Hence, going to bed when I "should" isn't possible as I'm wide awake.

I've come to the end of an alphabet theme that I kind of fell into early in August. The month went by and, although I tried to keep up, I just couldn't. Last month was the first month since I started blogging that I have not had a post a day. Believe me when I tell you this bothered me, greatly and truly bothered me.

The thing is, I just couldn't. I'd log on and sit here, looking through Flickr for an illustrative photo that would match with the next letter up. I don't know how many times I said to myself, "I can't come up with 'L' or 'P' or 'T'. I've got nothing." Something would pop up. I can usually come up with several posts at a time. You know, if you're a long-time reader, that my posts come in batches. I limit myself to 4 a day when they explode in my head like that. Why 4? That's how many I have on a page. Other bloggers just post one or maybe 2 a day, but when I write, I write so you might as well see all of the ideas that bounced around on this particular date.

During the month of zooming thither and yon, the well nearly ran dry. I was so tired at night, posting was something of a joke. I will often post at work because I have time or post when the inspiration strikes and schedule the post to pop up on the site on a certain day. But having a great deal to do at the office, feeling overwhelmed at home, being tired and worn out from driving was like, to use an overdone cliché, the perfect storm to staunch blogging ideas.

And speaking of storms, August was full of the kind that lend themselves to puddle stomping. I mentioned this blog post at the end of July. I wanted to reciprocate with puddle stomping photos of my own. But, because it's just me, I had to take my photos looking down, me standing in puddles. I took the photo above with the umbrella and then ditched that to just stand in the driveway and get soaked. There is something wonderfully cleansing about a summer rain, particularly one that does not come with percussion and fireworks.

Last weekend, as I was feeling the effects of the RA flare up, it rained. It wasn't a very long rain, maybe 20 minutes, but it was just rain. I went outside and sat in one of the chairs on the deck, just sat, in the rain, on a Saturday afternoon. Yes, you will get wet if you just sit on your deck in the rain, but the "zoom zoom" of the title washed itself away. All the "wouldda", "couldda" and "shouldda" of the past month washed away as well. I let it go. I didn't fight it.

"Zoom zoom" can be really hard to turn off. The obligations of life call for you to be in x place at y time. You must work to provide. Follow these rules. Get this done. Stand here. Don't spit and keep your arms and legs inside the ride at all times. I just wanted off the blinkin' ride by the end of August.

This weekend has been a forced "off". The remnants of Hurricane Isaac wandered through Chicagoland on Saturday. Where I live, we got spotty rain as if it couldn't make up its mind. Only once was the rain strong enough to be interesting to stand in and, at that time, I was checking football scores. By the time I was done, it was over. There was no standing in this for it wasn't there.

Tomorrow is the last day of vacation and then I go back to the office. I go back refreshed and with a better attitude and in a better frame of mind. I thought I'd do all this "stuff" while I was out and what I've wound up doing mostly is sleep. I've done a great deal of self-care, something I struggle with doing when "zoom zoom" is turned on. It's vital and necessary that I have that need to push through things. Life can be a meander but there are times when you have to move it a long a bit. Bills have to be paid and clothes have to be washed so "zoom zoom" is necessary. I just need to figure out how to turn it off and when to turn it off so it's most beneficial.

Yours, at 1:20 a.m. on Labor Day.

Beverage:  Water

Deb

Yesteryear

I've mentioned, in previous posts, how pieces for quilts were taken from clothing that has been worn out. When it ceased to be fixable, it went into the pile to be cut apart for quilting.

I'm going through the latest box of fabric and out comes this.

I remember this. I remember wearing this. I believe I wore this in kindergarten as, at the time, girls were not allowed to wear pants to school except in the winter and then, we had to take them off when we got to school. Oh my. I remember. 

The skirt is not attached to the back bodice anymore. I think it can be repaired, however. A gentle hand washing and a check of the seams and I think it could be worn again. I didn't see anything else wrong with it. 

Another dress was in the box.

This is not something I wore. I have no idea who would have worn this. It's in much more serious condition with parts of the front missing. This is definitely a candidate for the quilt pieces bin.

But my dress? I don't have a granddaughter, yet. I may never have a granddaughter. I can't bear to put this in the quilt pile. I remember feeling wonderful when I wore this dress. I don't think anyone made it. I'm fairly certain it was purchased. I don't remember my sister wearing it, although hand-me-downs weren't uncommon in my family. I'm going to fix it, clean it and keep it. No, it really serves no purpose to keep it other than to hold onto a time when life was wide open and I wore pants to school under my dress.

Beverage: Dr Pepper

Deb

Extra Splash

The cat "Humbug" banner sits on the table, as unfinished as it was at the beginning of the month. Granted, I have not felt like myself and the thought of dragging out the sewing machine to finish the project didn't appeal. But I feel drawn to that red corduroy with the cats on it, the one I was going to turn into a jacket. While in the basement doing a load of wash, I looked through the drawer which contains my patterns. I don't see the pattern I used for the original red corduroy coat but I did find the pattern I was going to use for the cat corduroy. I was drawn to the pattern because it was shown in a cat print. It's nice...but...I...think I want to look at other patterns for something closer to the original red coat. That's my feeling, right now. Ask me again in a month if I feel the same way.

While looking for the original coat pattern, I found the pattern I used to make shirts for Carole and David for Christmas. They are referred to as "camp shirts", probably because the style is synonymous with summer camp personnel before knits were widespread. I realized, some time after Christmas, that I had never posted photos of the finished products. This is Carole's shirt.

This is David's.

They assemble easily and are easy to wear and care for. I made one many, many years ago for my ex. It's  a loud print of food and was made for a picnic. I think he wore it once or twice before I commandeered it and have worn it ever since.

I'm drawn to loud and bright. As I was working through the boxes of fabric, more hunks appeared for which I have no memory of why I bought them. I separated swatches into piles based on fabric type and it occurred to me that these would, perhaps, make good camp shirts.

I add to this the cats printed on the light weight cotton shown before and I'd have a whole week's worth of new shirts. It would just take the time, buttons and interfacing to make them. I would probably have to buy complimentary fabrics to make a shirt similar to Carole's if I use the "peacock" feather blue but there's more than enough of the flowers on black to make a shirt, even a long-sleeved version, although that might be a bit much. 

I've stood in my closet on some days wishing I had the funds to buy some different shirts, recycle what I have and add something new to my wardrobe. A couple friends have suggested Goodwill but there's not one around here and the ardor to shop will have passed by the time I get to the closest one. 

I learned to sew because it was required. I continued to sew because I felt creative and I had clothes no one else had. I remember, in high school, going to a vocal music contest wearing a dress I made. While passing through the halls on my way to rehearsal prior to our going into competition, I ran into a gal with the same pattern. We stopped, looked at each other and laughed. My dress was a light green and white plaid. Hers was a light slate blue with flowers. While it was the same pattern, it was a completely different dress. That's what makes sewing so great. It can be the same pattern, but it's uniquely yours. Try getting that from Target or Nordstrom's. 

I went to the mall to stop at the Hallmark store on my route yesterday. Macy's is showing men's shirts in vivid plum, dark teal, forest green, cream and brick red. I had to stop and look. Beautiful deep colors. Walk into the women's department and, for your wardrobe this fall we have navy blue, ivory, black and what I can only call dirty chartreuse. Men get bright. We get mush. It makes me even less inclined to consider using my hard earned dollars to augment or freshen my wardrobe. 

So, perhaps, once I get the "Humbug" cat banner done, it's time to scratch the sewing itch. 

Beverage:  Dr Pepper

Deb

Watermelon

Nothing, but nothing, says summer like watermelon. We tried, for several years straight, to grow them, but we just didn't quite get it. Farmer's market watermelons are the best. I remember, as mentioned in the "S" post of last month, that slices of watermelon as well as many flavors of Nehi soda pop were shoved in a cattle trough filled with ice at our Thompson family reunions when I was growing up. You have not lived if you have not had a watermelon spitting contest with a dozen giggling cousins on a hot summer afternoon.

"Gak! I swallowed it!"

"Hahahahaha! Now you'll have a watermelon vine growing out your ear!" (Pro tip. When you're 5, you'll believe this.)

So, with some interest, I noticed Jell-o jumped on the bandwagon and offered a watermelon-flavor. Yes, it's artificial flavor, but watermelon is found in so many different things, from flavored water to cereal to candy, they probably have it pretty close to right.

I made up the jello. It's a very light pink color, very close to a rosé wine in fact. This photo makes it darker than it was. It's pretty close to the color on the box.

And the taste, well...as much as I like jello and variety, this isn't something I'm ever buying again. Some flavors can be reproduced artificially. I don't think watermelon, in this format, is one of them. There was a hint of the melon and that was all. I might as well have eaten a bowl of unflavored gelatin while eating a slice of the real thing. In fact, I've found a method to have my melon and not have 80% of it go to waste. I buy this size. 

This is three meal's worth. I don't cut it until I'm ready to dice a section into cubes. Once cut, I have to eat it within 1-2 days or it goes really soggy and gets heaved into the compost pile where the squirrels pick out the seeds. The real thing is better for me anyway so I'll be leaving the gelatinized watermelon behind from now on and buying the chunk. It's more expensive, to be sure, but real watermelon can't be beat on the last few hot days of summer.

Beverage:  Darjeeling tea

Deb