I made a pocket using a couched chenille decoration, as practice for a possible future waistcoat for DH.

( Pics )

I'm just chained to the sewing machine.

No, really. Der Hauptmann is adamant about our going to the Tennessee Renaissance Festival for the Jousting Tournament on Memorial Day weekend. He's wanted to go and compete in the Squire's Tournament for 3 years, now, but something has always come up. But this year, it's a ROAD TRIP! So, I'm sewing. 'Cause TennRen is an Elizabethan Faire, and all our clothes are either Henry VIII or Landsknecht, and either way it's "so three Monarchs ago!" :)

So, doublet and trunkhose for der Hauptmann, doublet and venetians for das Kind, and a couple new kirtles and a fitted gown for me. Oh, and a Tall Hat, 'cause he's just gotta have a Tall Hat. Oh, and a dear Friend whose husband is also competing is also sewing with me. We're doing a pair of kirtles and a fitted gown for her, too.

Much love to Margo, Ninya, Jane, and even Corynn for all the patterns and support groups I've been using. I'm gonna need a support group when I'm done. Maybe one that serves alcohol. :)

Hooray the dress came!  It's a LOT more green than I expected it to be - I would call it more celery than celedon.  It fits really, really well and looks just about as nice on me as it did on the Macy's model (mod the bad hair and the fact that you can see where my socks bit into my leg all day).  It's REALLY sheer.  Even with the lining, you can see my undergarments right through it.  I tried it with a couple of things but really, I think I'm going to have to track down a short white slip.  Not looking forward to that... I always end up annoyed.  This is how I'm planning to wear it for the wedding - silver wrap and silver shoes.  And probably pearls for my jewelry, but we'll see about that.  I've got a month to figure it out.

I will be placing some calls tomorrow.

Now they're telling me, in week 35, having had my birthing plan for at least four if not five months, that B can't be in the OR in case the vasovagal syncopy decides to rear its head. I'm... becoming increasingly displeased. I explained this to them many months ago, and *now* they decide to tell me this? After never saying that B couldn't be there when I flat out told them verbally about the v.s. at that first? Makes me think, so, what's next? "Oh, yeah, the baby can't room in with you till after you've been out of surgery for twelve hours because of his v.s. danger of passing out?"

Yeah. Think I'll be trying to reach some folks in Summertown tomorrow. Shit, that is *such* a longer drive. Argh.

No, not that kind of happy ending, you guttersnipe.

How about a bit of good news?  There’s so much mayhem and sadness in the world, let me improve your day by telling you a story with a happy ending.

We came this close to a fourth dog today.

In case you don’t know, Kass and I are owned by three Greyhounds: Melody, Sebastian and Leopold.  We are also trying to get fit by walking briskly morning and evening along the Delaware Canal.

I know; that’s a curious concatenation; bear with me.

Wednesday morning, we partook of our morning constitutional.  It was a rather pretty morning, cool but not so cool as to be remarkable, and we enjoyed ourselves immensely.  Until we got to the very end, where we came upon a small white dog with brownish-black spots, standing on the verge of the busy road that runs before our house.  He was shivering, obviously very frightened, but when we came into view his tail wagged tentatively and his ears perked up. 

He was quite friendly, permitting me to walk carefully (and non-aggressively) up to him and firmly grasp his blue collar.  Between soothing noises, I waved Kass to our house to fetch the spare leash, and held the dog – who has characteristics of terrier, spaniel and sighthound – occupying his attention until she got back.

Clipping the leash to his collar – devoid of tags or other identification, by the by – we walked first to the small deli/store that’s open for breakfast just round the corner from us.  No one there recognized our new friend, but they permitted Kass put up a “Found Dog” sign.  We also posted signs at a store down the road, just in case the searching owners expanded their search pattern.

Back at the house, we made an attempt to introduce the lost dog to our Greyhounds, to their great ambivalence – and outright distaste on some parts, for some small display of disapproval was voiced, and teeth were snapped.  Thankfully, Wednesday was a nice, sunny day, so I set up the wire pen we bought for hound-control at events and bunged New Small Dog therein, with plenty of water and a bowl of food.  He fed hungrily, devouring a goodly portion of ProPlan with apparent relish.

Kass and I were worried.  New Small Dog was obviously a dog which, were I to use a human-oriented euphemism, could be called “of a certain age.”  Had his owners decided he was too old for them?  Had he some wasting disease which would cause outrageous vet bills?  He seemed spry enough, if a little deaf.  We hoped he hadn’t been abandoned, because nothing is more foully reprehensible than turning out a poor, dumb animal that depends on his humans for every need.

At any rate, came lunchtime, and our day was completely screwed.  There were orders to go out, RH things to do, etc., and I had spent the entire morning making “Found Dog” signs and placing them while trying to figure out what to do with a stray dog I’d found.  Plus, I had to fulfill a promise I’d made to a SCA project. 

The project took up most of the afternoon.  By the time I arrived back at home, New Small Dog was being attended by Kass and Christina in turns – they had decided that it was a good idea to sit in the nice, warm sun and sew next to the pen with our “prisoner”.

They had taken him to the park through the neighborhood, in hopes that his owner was out and about searching.  They had taken Sebastian along for exercise (he’s 11 and needs the exercise).  When they arrived at the park, the pups were ensconced in the Little League baseball field and permitted to run loose.

Kass is rather vague on the details, but apparently New Small Dog is gay.  He tried on several occasions to hump Sebastian, who at first took great umbrage at being so ill-treated.  After the umpteenth attempt, however, Sebastian got it into his head that NSD simply wanted to play – is this where locker-room slapping on the buttocks comes from? Inquiring minds want to know, you manly men – and began romping about, joyfully playing with NSD, or at least playing, hoping that NSD would stop humping long enough to get with the program.

We visited often with NSD during the course of the day and evening.  He really is a friendly little fellow, ready with wagging tail and attentive ears.  So Kass and I walked him along another route around seven in the evening, again in the hope that his owner would turn up.  Again, no joy.  We telephoned the SPCA and even the Northampton County 911 Center’s non-emergency line, having heard that some distraught owners call the 911 Center to report lost dogs.  No joy at either place, alas.

We were sort of perplexed as to what to do with him for the night, as the Greys obviously had no patience with him.  When I remembered we still had the training crate from when we first got the Greys, we had the perfect solution.  Perfect!  Reassembly of the crate was a matter of moments, a nice soft blanket was placed therein for a comfy mattress, and NSD went right in without complaint.

In fact, not a single whine or complaint came from NSD all the night long.  We had braced ourselves for a night of noise, but when I came down this morning, NSD was fast asleep, eyes screwed tight shut.  I had to gently rouse him to get him to go outside for his morning ablutions!  Like I said, he was being a very good dog, indeed.

That was the problem.  I was starting to become attached.  Yeah, I know; me no big man, me weak little wimp who like puppy.  Big deal.  The fact remains that I decided to take NSD to the local SPCA no-kill shelter this afternoon, to nip the thing in the bud.

See, if it were just me, I’d’ve kept NSD.  But we already have three dogs who eat quite enough expensive dig food, thank you very much, and who seem to actively dislike NSD, so that’s out.

So I went upstairs to my office after breakfast with a heavy heart.  I was definitely not looking forward to taking NSD to an uncertain future at the SPCA; nor was I looking forward to taking him into my home.  Suddenly, shortly after lunch – and many episodes of checking on NSD, now ensconced once again in the outdoor pen, in the nice, cool grass – there was a loud commotion downstairs and in the driveway.

A large black SUV had pulled in to the driveway.  At first, panic – had Big Brother finally come for me?  I never thought anyone would ever read that manifesto about Roswell!  Horror!  But my panic was premature, for I heard NSD giving joyful voice; I have never heard such sounds come from NSD before, but such a joyful sound is easy to recognize. 

I dashed downstairs at top speed.  Could it be?

I’m proud as punch to report that it was New Small Dog’s loving owner.  She was calling, “Daytona! Daytona!” over and over again – one presumes New Small Dog’s real name is Daytona – and it would be obvious to the most jaded viewer that he was witnessing a joyous, tearful reunion.  It turns out Daytona lives just round the corner, and had somehow gained egress via a gap in the fence.  Mistress was frantic, driving round and round searching; it was mere chance that we had missed ourselves in passing.

I lifted up Daytona and gently placed him in the rear of the SUV, giving him one final scratch behind his perked-up ears. 

He was going home.

I can finally stop referring to her as "my lovely wife" and call her adelavanbrugge instead. She has finally given in to the siren song of LJ, so be nice and don't scare her away. :)

I  was in my storage space today, got a new dress form and moved things around a bit. 

Touched my scuba gear... it's all packed and ready to go.    Waiting oh so patiently,    oh so dry. 

*** mournful dramatic sigh ***  

(I think it's time to sell more antique corsets)

OK, I never do this, but it was too cute to resist!


more cat pictures

 Short cut to the Garter Post:

http://community.livejournal.com/corsetmakers/1331671.html

Glucose Tolerance Tests suck. 5 blood draws in three hours, after drinking a vomitously sweet cola-flavored slop on an empty stomach.

Ugh.

California Surpreme Court says same-sex couples have right to marry

http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/c/a/2008/05/15/BAGAVNC5K.DTL

I just had the following conversation with the "Mac expert" at my local FedEx/Kinkos.


The Mac in fact did not have iWork on it, nor could Acrobat Pro OR Acrobat Reader properly render the PDF.  (Note to self: graphic-heavy iWork documents don't export all that well to PDF.)  Am now home to collect Eloisa and take her with me to plug into one of their laptop stations and print the document that way.

So I posted about the dress I bought for that wedding in June. Unfortunately there's not a picture on the Macy's site anymore, but here's a teeny tiny one.

Now, I have also posted time and again about my love for Sex and the City (sorry, cranky_dragon, you'll just have to accept this flaw in my character). I joke that I have Carrie Bradshaw taste on a Payless budget. I really like SJP's Bitten line at Steve & Barry's (like this dress). I'm growing my hair out to a bob again, and I admit that I got the idea watching reruns of a time when Carrie had a bob. (It looks good on me when my face is slimmer.)

So, keeping all of that and the dress I just purchased in mind, I present to you SJP's outfit from the S&tC movie premiere. Please ignore the GARDEN that appears to have sprouted out of her skull - it's the dress that's appealing to me. The Project RunGay Boys may not like it, but I do.

(Oh, and the dress should be arriving today around dinnertime, so I'll post pics of me in it at some point.)

This post brought to you by 16 oz of coffee and a four-figure plumbing repair bill. Oh, and the copy shop's color printer still being down. ARGH!

Okay, I don't usually post stuff like this, but this one was too damned cute to resist. ( Schrodinger's Kittens )

At my request, spanishpeacock put a tire swing on the awesome new play set that he built the microterrorists.

One of the ones that spins around in circles.  Awesome.

Unfortunately, it's been 45 min. since I got off it and I still feel like I am going to paint the walls, ceiling and floor with the remnants of lunch.  "Ode de cow" is not helping.

oooooooooooOOOOooooooooo

He just asked if I learned a lesson.

Yeah. 

Eat a smaller lunch.

Busy, busy, busy. No LJ for me. (Pout.)

Anywhoo, and apropos of nothing, here is a very cool exhibit at the Met: Superheroes: Fashion and Fantasy

I don't know about you, but I think that this is trés cool.

And, is it me or the instructions on the Tudor Tailor are a bit confusing? Fortunately, I have been sewing long enough that I can fiddle with them, but they are not very detailed. Then again, it is hard to be that detailed when you are trying to include as much information as you can in the minimum amount of space.

I still think the Tudor Tailor rocks, but the instructions take a little bit of getting used to.

So what am I making? A simple shirt for ballistabob, with the nifty embroidered cuffs and neckband that I finished a little while ago. Like I said, not something really complicated, but the gussets can always be tricky and I am used to the ones in Mistress Grace Gamble's pattern, which are a bit different from these ones.

I have to say, the shirt is coming along nicely. I am looking forward to the finished product. And since I am not making anything fitted for myself until I reach my target weight, I might as well amuse myself making underpinnings.

You can never have too many shirts. (Especially the embroidered kind.)

Or chemises.

Or ruffs.

Or . . .

Never mind.

And now, I go home.

Yay home!

http://giorgiacosplay.deviantart.com/art/Maleficent-85538148

Everything looks fabulous - the outfit, the headdress, the staff (complete with crow!), and the angle of the photograph with the birds in the background. Maleficent = totally AWESOME.

Still haven't articulated all I want to write down about Crown, although we had a very productive deconstruction meeting yesterday. Suffice it to say that most people were in fact not suffering burnout but rather were a bit bouncy and going 'let's do that again! but better!'

I'm now sorting out Queen's Birthday Collegium (31/5-2/6). This has got to be record speed. I asked at Council last night if we should cancel it, and came out with a resounding 'no' and an almost-full schedule of classes for three days!

Darton - the Shire That Cares!