Now I just have the hassle of taking out the stitches. Hand dyed fibers are great, but sometimes they'll just do that to you. They can be pesky, fickle, fickle threads.
Nothing much is going on here today. Just the usual. Today will be sales tax day. So...everyone? Please don't gasp excitedly all at once.
I've added a couple of new songs to my sidebar. Last weekend we took Colleen and her friend Laura to WVU to watch another taping of Mountain Stage, where we saw one of their favorite artists, Regina Spektor. She gave a wonderful performance and the girls were thrilled. The rest of the performers were super, too, and in my sidebar you'll see songs from Great Lake Swimmers (good music but seemed to have some difficulties with the live performance. Eh - I still like their music. Click on that link - great stuff.) and Will Hoge. Will Hoge was my favorite performer of the night. Really fabulous. The kind of performance that pushes you back in your seat.
Something else that's been on my mind...I just can't get into Halloween stitching. I like autumn and autumn-y designs, like pumpkins and leaves, but Halloween simply isn't my thing. You guys all stitch such neat stuff and designers seem to be pulling out all the stops when it comes to Halloween. Still - I find myself scratching my head and wondering what all the excitement is about.
It must be genetic, because my mother was awful about Halloween, too. Yes, we were the kids with the plastic Casper the Ghost masks. And since there were five of us, Casper was hauled out every year and when he finally didn't fit you, he was given to the next kid down the line. After we outgrew Casper, we were "bums". Meaning that we wore our dad's worn out work clothes, used Mom's eyebrow pencil to draw on stubble, and we were pushed out the door with a grocery bag.
And I always wanted to be a princess. Thanks, Mom.
But by far the worst Halloween costume was my mummy costume. I was 13 years old and invited to my first ever boy-girl party. It was given by a friend of mine who was older and in high school and she was the picture of cool.
I was so nervous about going to a cool kid party....Obviously the bum costume just wasn't going to cut it. So my mother ripped up a sheet and wrapped me up as a mummy, except that it didn't really work and it was falling apart before I even stepped out the door.
Now it was time to go, and I was a jittery mess, and my dad drove me to this party, which happened to be right next to a church where someone was having a lovely fall wedding. So there were all of these people mulling around waiting for the bride and groom to come out, and my dad and I pulled up in our rumbling car (Muffler? Who needs a muffler?) and I froze. Could. Not. Get. Out. of the Car. My dad was saying, Go, go, go! And I was saying, NO, Not yet, Wait, Wait. Finally, he had had enough, and pushed me out the door and lay rubber down the street. Meaning that all of the wedding guests turned and looked at me - standing in the street with my sheet strips fluttering in the wind.
It's just the situation that every 13 year wishes to find herself in. At least the sheet strips absorbed the armpit sweat.
So Halloween? Not my holiday.
The end of the story is that the party was fun, even though I think I was invited because my mother was friends with Nancy's mother and Mrs. Jones made Nancy invite me. We bobbed for apples, carved miniature pumpkins and giggled about and with the boys. And years and years later, I dressed my son as a mummy for his third grade Halloween party, and I don't think he'll ever forgive me, either.