What to wear?

Okay troops, Sorry about that last entry, it was on my mind, but sometimes, I should just keep it to myself.
This one is more all inclusive.

I have to go to a christening.
I have to find something to wear.  You can make the call
They are not necessarily in that order.  You will be able to identify and assess the outfits named.
1. Blue flowered April Cornell dress, white shoes.  It's one piece, but it gaps at the bust, makes my ass look gigantic, and maybe it's a little out of date or frumpy?

2. Black gaucho pants with a lively flower print,  (so cute) a sleeveless black knit top (gaps at the armpits) and black shoes.  2 pieces, the waist of the pants is 3" high and elastic.  I had to take some of the elastic out so I would not lose a kidney, they were bothering me there.  And the top is almost fine,which means not quite fine, and at least one sister will make a remark.

3. Linen pants, silk top, silk cardigan, all shades of beige.  This is my possible favorite?  But the pants have gotten quite thin, I don't know if you can see through them, the silk under top has really long armpits and my bra shows, so I have to keep the sweater on.
It's 95 degrees. None of that is going to look crisp for more than 6 minutes.  I am not a beige person but I thought it would be elegant?  I don't know who I'm trying to kid.

4. The black and white nylon knit dress.  Makes my rear look huge, and I have to suck in my gut the whole time.  The V neck is too low and I have to pin it shut.  The place where it is now pinned is good but shows maybe too much cleavage, so...

You be the judge.  Don't hold back, just tell me.  Okay, I gotta add pictures, but not with me in them, that just does not work.  P.S. Keep in mind, that the dummy is a size 4-6 and I am a very short waisted busty size 12, and that while I can see things may need more pressing, this it.

Thanking you in advance.  I know you'll do the right thing.

Traffic of the Dead

I was driving to the thrift store today when I was thrown off by constuction.  I had to go out to a major artery and make a left turn on a busy street where there was no light, and constant traffic was not stopping to let you in.

Anyway, there were 2 cars in front of me and a school bus in front of them. What is the holdup? I wondered.
It was a humongous funeral.  I know this is a touchy subject, so bear with me.  It was a long line of cars with those little flags on the fronts and placards in the window.  My view was though the gas station pumps to the left of me.  If there were a building there, there would have been nothing to see at all.

Who died?  Could have been a policeman?  That happens a lot lately in Philadelphia.  But then people die every day.  I knew it was not George Steinbrenner. He does not live anywhere near here.

 I often think that when I die, no one will attend.  Possibly one of my sisters,  but that's it.  There was no funeral for Mom, nobody was up for that. But that's my family.

A lot of the time when someone you know dies, or even when it's a relative of someone you know, you feel obligated to go to the funeral.  Not always, but you know which ones you just have to attend.  If you are powerful, well loved, or knew a lot of people, your funeral will be well attended, and like the funeral I saw this morning, tie up traffic for blocks.

Traffic is funny.  People get all bent out of shape if you are not going fast enough, or forget a turn signal (which is dangerous, and rude at the same time), but everyone stops and gives the right of way for a funeral.

It's as if you rate higher on the respect scale dead, than you did alive.  What's that about?

Where is the New Yorker when you need them?

I just went back and read the first year of this blog, and I have to say I was amused for several hours

Try it: just go to the end, or like February of 2005 and start there.  See if you don't have some fun.

Heat Wave

It's been so hot out, it was difficult to move.  For the first couple of days we acutally camped outside in relative luxury.  We put up my craft tent that the hub and I made to go to craft shows.  The bad thing: it is not waterproof.  The good thing: shade, beautiful shade.

Being unwilling to move, we sat there, getting up only to hose down once in a while and reading magazines and books.  This week's favorite has been Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, Dawn of the Dreadfuls by Steve Hockensmith.  This is not the original sendup of Jane Austen's famous novel, but a prequel to it, and written by a different author.  I am told that the original is more violent and has more acutal Austen to it, but this was light reading (yes, I do heavy lifting but light reading) and pretty hilarious if you can get past the putrefying people.

Thanks a lot, Shakespeare

No one has ever asked me; let me compare thee to a Summer Day.

Learning Curve

Today I have been trying to learn something, anything that will help me with technical stuff online.
First, I found the New York Photography School site: http://digital-photography-school.com/learning-exposure-in-digital-photography which is complex but eventually I hope to make it work for me.

Next, I was directed from Etsy to another store site whose name I have not entirely mastered,, it's like Matsui, or something, that has a store AND a blog stuck right to it, and other bells and whistles.  Only thing is: I could not see any of the stores.  Maybe it's a closed system like a paramecium or something?

Next, I hooked up to tweetup? possibly, these things just swirl past my vision and create imaginary waste o' space in my brain.  I feel like I now have the brain power of a cat, or a pancake or any other inanimate object.  Anyway, after hours of trying to figure the RSS feed, (yes, I am that much of a dweeb), I hooked that up so that my twitter will lead you to my blog.

I am not that sure about twitter.  Evidently, the way to self promote on twitter, (and that, more than anything seems to be what it is about) is to connect to as many people as possible and have them connect back to you.  Right now, I have like 14 connections, and dumped a load of people/companies I was following, because they were not all that amusing, and they took up space that the people's posts that were interesting formerly occupied.

I guess it's not about what I want to read, it's about who I want to read me, and that's where the moral dilemma kicks in.

I would like my vintage shop to be a success and then maybe move on to a photography shop, but do I have to have giveaways, and tutorials?  It's just possible I do.

My best online friend is spreading herself very thin these days, joining other craft groups and making things for her blog and 5 others, and going to work AND having a life.  I asked her one time, how is it that you are able to produce so much?  Her answer was simple; she does not have a television.

I know there's nothing on, but mostly I like to read while I'm watching bad television, and therefore do not make a load of stuff because I am lazy.  I guess that's what it comes down to in the end. If I had paid more attention at school I would have a career that I was laid off from and collecting a large slice of unemployment, thank you President Obama, instead of blogging my life away and trying to sell used stuff online.

Hot time in the old town

I'ts been 90 degrees out for a couple of days now.  Yesterday, we had a very large storm, possibly a tornado by the looks of things.  On the next street there are 4 giant trees down, and on several streets after that.  Most of them missed houses, but completely blocked the roads.

We went out for a tour.  It had been cool last night after the storm and then again in the morning but it kept getting hotter.  It felt like Charleston S.C. in August, but it's still June, and we are about 13 hours north of there by car.

I kept changing clothing.  The wrap around skirt was comfy but nothing matched it.  The palazzo pants were cute but the elastic waist hurt my kidneys.  I tried to cut some of the elastic out, but it was not enough, and there was no electricity to sew through all the layers to put it back together.  None of my shoes matched anything, but if they did, my feet hurt in them.  It's as if hot weather makes me lose my sense of style completely.

I put on no makeup which makes me look tired, and wear a baseball hat to keep the sun out of my eyes.
I never in my life thought I would be with a man who wears clothing bearing sports insignia, but I have, and that's hardly unusual, but I could not have guessed after being a milliner for years, that I would adopt a baseball hat.  It's not attractive.  I am not some tall rangy girl with a tomboy wardrobe.
I am a short woman with big hair, and women's clothing and it's looks just awful.  I gotta say, it's practical.

A bit later I was in the kitchen and the refrigerator started making noise.  I yell this out to Lou in the yard.  He says open it up!  Yes!  Electric is back on.  I know they are going to turn it off again eventurally, but tonight I sleep in air conditioned bliss.

By the Sea

Nory went to the shore with her sister Lila.  They were dressing for the beach, and Nory was putting on an old t shirt like flashdance meets Hokusai, and a skirt she made from old t shirts.  It was her first attempt at cutting up shirts for skirts, and it was a success except that the design on the shirt ended up at her crotch.  She spun it to her hip, but the shirt covered it anyway.

Lila said I bought a bathing suit.  This was the one that did not make me cry.  Boy, is that ever true.  After a certain point in time, and with our mom's fatty gene pool, there's just no fighting off the distortion of the flesh. (see: legs of Dorian Gray)

Nory looked at her sister in the bathing suit and it was black and white polka dots.  She herself had never gone in much for the dots, but we do what we can.  It was not good, but if it was okay with Lila, then what the hell.

They trekked down to the ocean and the cool wind blew over them.  They flopped on towels, just as if they were not middle aged women and sighed, looked at the water for a while and picked up their respective reading.

Drug Trials

Here's the thing.  Well, two things.  I went online to make a new post, and got a message that my blog name was available to register.  What the hell???

So I came to blogger, and here I am.  Now I'm just confused.  And dizzy.
I went to a dozen docs, and particularly one of the "top docs" for dizziness in the city.  They did terrible things to me there, just to see IF I was actually dizzy.  Oh yeah.  I was sick for a week after those wonderful tests.  They did brain scans, cat scans, and every kind of expensive thing, but did not find anything broken.

Now, as a last ditch effort, they want me to take diuretics.  I remember my mother taking them to get rid of water on her ankles.  I don't remember how much she was in the bathroom, but it was not as often as I already am.

I have not felt like this for months.  Really bad.  So maybe I take just one more drug.  Or maybe I go on the all raw diet.  I am not sure about those people.  They claim it brings health and vitality if the most you heat anything is 118 degrees.  Why?  I just don't know.  It sounds totally arbitrary.  Obviously animal protein is out, as is sugar, although maple syrup is okay with them.

What you don't know about maple syrup: it's not a sweet as you thought.  It's the corn syrup pancake liquid that is sweet.  I like it.  I am used to my food tasting bright and delicious.  I can go without some things but the sugar thing: that's the killer.

I really should ditch any baked goods, and all sugar.  I should live on lettuce and water as a friend told me.

Then he put me on embargo, so I don't know how good a friend he really is.  Okay, that was something you don't need to read, but I'll leave it there anyway.

I gotta go out now.  I'll be walking so if I collapse someone will find me, covered with ants (the ants are really getting to me these days) and wrappers discarded from foods at the Wawa convenience store.

Okay I sound nuts, but I can delete this all later.

Beauty Therapy

Nory went to a therapist recommended by Lou's therapist. The new therapist was supposed to adress her propensity to anxiety and try to get Nory off some medicines she was taking.

First of all, Peggy (the therapist) decided Nory should take more EPA fish oil. Then she decided that Nory should see another more integrative doctor .

Then the therapist decided her vitamin D levels were low (from a copy of blood samples from her G.P.)

AND she sent Nory for even more blood samples and thought she might want to find out if she had yeast in her intestines. Well, thought Nory, between the bread and the yoghurt, I must have some yeast somewhere.

So to sum up: 2 added supplements, 2 added health professionals to see.

Nory went on Thursday because she could not read the invisible writing of the receptionist, and since it was not the correct day, and her hair was all gray in the fluorescent light of the bathroom, she went to the hairdresser next door. She had never gone there before, but it was pretty and the hairdressers seemed friendly and knowledgeable, so she decided to go in.

The first thing Nory annouced was: Do NOT dye my hair black!

Guess what? Black hair.

She asked her sister Lila what she thought. Lila said "I was not going to mention it, I thought you just had an accident with the dye".

The next day, after her acual appointment with Peggy, Nory went back and said "honey, (in the nicest tone)you dyed my hair black".

The Hairdresser looks like that Amazon from 3rd Rock, Kirsten somebody. She said well, you wanted dark brown. Nory said "I wanted brown". Greta said well, it will wear off a bit in a coupla weeks.

Well, thought Nory, not hideous. I just look like a goth girl in Talbots clothing.

12:45 Ironing

Generally when I creep upstairs at night, it is cold. I am wrapped in layers of flannel and fleece, socks and slippers, almost gloves if I could, but tonight is so balmy after a very hot day that I wear a slip of a nightgown to sit at the computer.

It's nice to find an order on the computer. I sell my odds and ends, not a business so much as lightening up my stuff stash. It's a national holiday, so I did not expect anything from my computer, and mainly left it alone today. When I came up, I found my order and went to work re-ironing some fancy tea napkins in the heat of the attic. I must be mad. It was near 90 degrees today, and we spent it all outside, lolling in the shade.

I am not getting so very much from these napkins, but on the other hand, I did find them literally on the side of the road, while I was walking one day. There was a load of vintage linens, and I picked up what I could and carried it a mile back home.

I should have gone back. I left lace table cloths, and who knows what else there, but I was in a very karmic dilemma, and decided to leave stuff for others. I hope someone took the rest, or my good will has gone wasted.

I probably should not write at night when I have not much to say.

Yup, officially at a loss for words.

Goodnight, sweet prince.

Girl Scout Cookies

I know I'm going to get a lot of flack if anyone ever reads this, but I have a rule about girl scout cookies; I don't buy them unless the girl scouts bake the cookies themselves, which they never do.

The girls (and mostly their parents) sell the cookies which have become increasingly smaller, with less cookies, and more artificial and unhealthy ingredients. Why don't the leaders teach the girls to make cookies, and have them sell fantastic cookies?

I saw a segment on SNL last night about this. The writer on TV wanted to buy the cookies all year in a store rather than be harrangued by small girls in berets and sashes only once a year.

He has a point, but I think if you had the cookies all year you would notice after a while, that they aren't as good as you might remember them being.

I went to a boy scout spaghetti dinner last night. I was ready for the worst and I got it. The food was like a school lunch. I was considering going to the kitchen and teaching them to cook, but they would not have had the ingredients, and frankly, they were not going to listen to me, a non christian in any case.

The scouts were sort of stunned like small cattle in an unfamiliar setting, but they followed directions, and tried to perform their duties to the best of their abilities. Some were better than others. Our waiter, not knowing us, was wary and seemed to have no sense of humor at all. He was unable to communicate further than what he had been told which did not include the fact that Spaghetti is also the plural for the word, and whether or not there was sugar in the iced tea.

I don't know how many diabetics went into shock after that carb and sugar loaded meal, but that is neither here nor there.

The kid at the next table called it paskettis, and even with some coaching by the men at his table, could not master the word. The pasketti kid, a small, white nerd type, while unable to pronounce the dish, was a lot more personable, and hung around the two large black men he was serving, making jokes, and having a great time.

What I wanted to point out here is that the boys were doing something more ambitious than the girls, and though it was for one night, the community was supporting them. Whether or not they made more money, I think the boys learned a little more real life experience than the girls.

I have gone up to a girl scout and taught her how to sell cookies. She was lackluster, and unwilling to speak to strangers. (probably from many years of indoctrination, and I cannot argue with the inntelligence of that).

She stood in front of me and wanly held a box of cookies with a limp wrist, and took no other action. I am not going to describe my lesson, but by the end of it, she was selling boatloads, and was also able to convince her parents to send her to Europe with a new wardrobe as a reward for being so enterprising. And no, I did not buy her cookies.

So, I really wish everyone would learn to cook decent food, and I wish the scouts of both sexes would find another way of making money. I know child labor has been abolished by law, but there's plenty of it going on. Perhaps they could become telephone solicitors.

Of Frogs and Men

I forgot to tell you. We had dinner at the London grill the other night, and there were frogs all over the place. Stickers on the wall and statuettes of every material known to man strewn over every surface.

Finally I asked someone. It has to do with a plague they said. Something about Passover. They have books by the cash register.

The Haggadah, I said.

Yes, he said, surprised.

So, I guess the locust theme would have been too much for L&I I mused.

Fat Again

Wow, am I fat. I took a photo for a hat that was not selling on my site. It is a flapper hat, and I think the main reason for it's not selling, it that it was not on a person. While it's true, I have been ill for 3 days, and eating almost nothing has lost about 5 pounds, the camera tells me I am gigantic.

I am wearing a large skirt which helps not a bit. Looks like an Army tent, sounds like a flag flapping in a strong wind.

Jeff suggests that I continue to not eat. Easy for him to say. It's 12 now, and I have not had anything, but I am going to have to have something. Yesterday it was 3 minute eggs, chicken soup, and jello, not much of any of that, and I gained a pound. I'm pretty sure it was just water that I lost.

Most of the time, I just forget about it, and then I see a photo. Of course, one year I lost 25 pounds and the pictures STILL made me look fat.

Bad Habit

Every night when I am too exhausted to read any more, and my wrists ache from holding the book up, I put it down, and turn off the light. Immediately I get too hot to be comfortable in bed, and outside of the bed, the heat has been turned down to nothing, which generally registers somewhere between 54 and 61 degrees Fahrenheit (just in case).

I try to drift off, but my mind starts dictating prose that it thinks I should write, and often, I get up, and those words are no longer available to me, so I write whatever comes to mind.

I should not get out of bed, but when you cannot sleep, it is hard to stay put.

Shopping

I could not stand being bound by the snow any longer. No, I was not buried under a mound of snow, but was just stuck inside because I don't think slogging about in 30 inches of snow is a lot of fun. Plenty of people do enjoy it, and when I put it that way, it sounds fun, but no thanks.

So, I went shopping. I am too big, I know it, you know it, every one is aware that I should not be buying clothes in this large size, but I've been good all winter. Not a thing. Not even from the Sal (salvation army). And I bought odd sale type items, and was fairly happy.

Then I went to Bloomingdale's. I saw stuff I loved alllll over the place, but even though I had mad money, I just could not spend 300 bucks on a blouse, jacket or anything else, for that matter. I am not a millionaire, and I tend to ruin my clothing almost immediately. It broke my heart, but I left all the flowery flirty, ruffled, chiffon peasant blouses in the store.

I came home and put on my new mud colored skirt that I would never have bought at regular price, or even on sale, but I had two different 5% offs, 50% on all sale items plus a $20.00 cupon, so the skirt was dirt cheap.

I went running up the stairs, and the skirt made the sound of a sail unloosed, luffing, as they call it, in the wind. Yeah, that's why they go on sale.

More about Brownies...

The Che sera Cook February 6, 2010

Here’s the thing. I used to go to this place in Philadelphia that had giant brownies. they were over 2″ tall and about 3×3 square. They were the best brownies I ever had, and I cannot for the life of me reproduce them. They were very moist but not fudgy,and also not cakey and they were consistent all the way through. Of course that place closed, but I did ask for the recipe and they acted like they did not know where the brownies came from. But I know, they came from heaven.

Appliance Mutiny

I don't know what's going on these days, but my kitchen seems to have a grudge against me.

I have had some trouble baking for about a year, and finally invested in an oven thermometer.It tells me what the actual temperature is, as opposed to what it says on the dial. Just as I suspected, it was at minimum 25 degrees lower than it should be and at max, 75 degrees lower.

The interesting part of that, is that it is not consistant, and coincidentally neither are my baked goods. I have tried adjusting the temp to match with spotty results.

The refrigerator has also started to act up. Suddenly the lettuce is frozen in two days. Ever see frozen lettuce? It does not stay frozen for long. It turns into green slime. Nice. BUT: when you turn the refrigerator to colder the freezer gets warmer. I think that's okay because the freezer was making things frostbitten. But this time, the freezer was too warm so I changed that, and then the refrigerator got too cold, and I am stuck in a circle, never having anything at the right temperature. On the other hand, and this is my go-to these days, I don't live in Haiti, so what's the problem?

The dish washer front fell off on my foot about a year ago. Turns out the crappy almond color that my husband made me buy all appliances to match, and which are going wonky, was actually just paint. The dishwasher (with the permanently stuck soap dispenser) is Harvest, Gold, a color which I presume was popular in the '70s. Swell.

The Water company has been doing a lot of work lately, and I caught one of them in the driveway with one of those wheel counters. I said: why don't you fix the pipes here?

WG: We have been fixing the pipes that are concrete from 1905, yours are cast iron from 1926, so it's going to take a while for us to get to it.

Our water is slowing down to a trickle, and guests won't stay because out of 3 showers, only one gets enough water to use. No baths, nohow.

Used to be I only had trouble with watches, and then with doorbells, two other stories. I don't know what's going on, but as long as they work marginally and stay rooted to the floor instead of roaming the house at night, I can probably deal with it.

I love the night lights..

I went to the dollar store where I loitered, goggling at brightly colored gee-gaws and mylar ballons, tube sox and amazing stacks of multi-colored plastic crap of all manner until Marilyn could extract herself from the long line in the Acme, and stalled in front of a Johnny Depp - Captain Jack Sparrow Pirate night light, realizing suddenly that I was listening to Gloria Gaynor singing "I like the night lights, I love to boogie, yeah...) and realized it was night life, but that it worked for me.

Etsy Blues

Sales have slowed down to a trickle though I have listed my heart out.

Okay, lame Valentine joke, but really, I gotta do more. They suggest the dreadded facebook or Tweeting, but I don't know about that.

So, I reduced the price of 3/4 of the shop to around five bucks. I may be taking a bath, but it might motivate all of you to spend your little pockets off. I sure hope so.