Swiss Army Super-Tool Thingy

In my daily professional life, I find myself using a number of different gizmos and gadgets to get the job--or jobs--done. For the third assignment in the book, Caffeine for the Creative Mind, Mumaw and Oldfield want the reader to invent their own "Professional Survival Swiss Army ... 'Thing.'" I'd try to draw a picture on Paint, but you remember my earlier attempt?

First off, my specialty tool will need wheels and a tow-hitch. Since I spend my days jumping from writing, to designing and sewing, to crafting, to pressing, displaying and photographing vintage and handmade items, my handy-dandy all purpose tool will likely weigh a ton. Making it tow-able will allow me to cart it wherever I go--scouting for vintage items, mailing my sold pieces, visiting family and friends' homes--you get the idea.

To start with, I'll need my sewing machine, dress form, tape measure, scissors, an iron and an ironing board. Also, roller skates would be very helpful for rushing from the dining room table where I cut fabric to the sewing room. On second thought, skates might be dangerous, because I often trip over the dogs as they accompany me to and from my destinations.

Speaking of dogs, I'll need a remote for the door so they can go out and in as needed, and maybe some biscuits or peanut butter-laced Kongs to keep them busy whle I concentrate. They simply don't understand that mommy's hands and eyes are made for other things besides petting, feeding, and casting adoring glances.

The next contraption on my Thingy (Is it just me or does that sound a little dirty?) is a bottomless cup with a built-in heater. With this, I could have an endless supply of tea and not have to be shocked and repulsed whenever I take a swig of the cold, over-brewed stuff.

Of course, I'll need my computer--laptop or PC. It doesn't matter. Though I tend to prefer the PC for all my fabulous forays into writing, a laptop will do in a pinch. And I'll need a dictionary and thesaurus. I know I can use the online versions of these tools, but for some reason, I abhor having to leave the page I'm working on to reference a word. I know it's a bit strange, but we all have our idiosyncrasies, right? Right?

Likewise, the computer enables me to reference and date vintage clothing. For that activity, I also need a lot of the sewing supplies listed above, plus my trusty digital camera. Oh, and the camera charger and usb cord!

My whatchamacallit will be equipped with a robot for cooking and cleaning so I won't have to. Paper towels, a glue stick, E6000 and a glue gun, buttons, ribbons, zippers and the all-important polyester batting are also necessities. After all, one never knows when the need for stuffing will arise, does one?

So there you have it. Another strange, yet oddly interesting (for me, anyway) exercise in creativity. I'm sure I've left off some extremely important gadgets from my Swiss Army Super-Tool Thingy, but that's it for now.

Betty 'Boom-Boom' Boop and the Squash On My Counter

You may have noticed that it's been a few days since my promise to post regularly about the 250 exercises in the book, Caffeine for the Creative Mind by Mumaw and Oldfield. I'm only on the second assignment and I've already hit a speed bump. This time, the task is to "take 10 pictures of ten things in your environment that don't belong where they are." And to be honest, my friends, I had to clean my house first!

I no sooner finished vacuuming when my dear little Lucy made the mess you see in this first picture. By the way, that toy she is tearing apart is only a few hours old. I sewed her up a batch of them that morning. She's still in her destructive puppy phase, and I figured better a toy than my furniture. But she could have at least pretended to have some trouble demolishing my offerings!

Moving on to my desk, I found a couple of things that were not where they belong. Okay, more than a few. Notice the close-ups. That's so you can't see the entire messy office space. Yeah, huh? Dumb like a fox.

The first item is a bag full of brooches--some vintage, some not. I have been running a special in my Etsy shop: For every ruana purchased, the customer receives a free brooch. (Pretty good deal, if I do say so--and I do.) However, I have not sold a ruana since Christmas, yet these remain nestled in their resting place below the computer monitor.


The second misplaced item on my desk, is my thesaurus. It should be standing with the other books along the back wall, but I use it so often that I tend to leave it out. In fact, I used it just now to find another word for misplaced. There aren't that many that fit in this context. I haven't "forgotten the whereabouts" of these things that are "scattered" about, I simply "placed them wrongly" because I am a "disorganized," creative soul whose things are often "put in the wrong place."

I have a rather large kitchen with a u-shaped counter-top. When taking these photos, a butternut squash rested on one end of the shelf near the toaster oven. We feasted upon that a couple of days ago, and now the same space holds a sweeter variety of squash--the buttercup. These gourds really are the most visually unique and interesting vegetables, aren't they? You could spend a day at a farm just photographing the various types. Can you say, Fun?

The day I took these pictures the kitchen workspace also sported a lovely black stretchy woolen glove with the word "Spongebob" written across the index finger in red, and a squiggly pattern of blue and gray spread over the remainder of the fingers and palm. This lonely hand covering emerged from the laundry all by itself and it's waiting for us to find its missing partner. Hopefully, the wayward mate turns up before we have to break the news to a certain little someone.

Resting beside the rogue Spongebob glove, is a package of skinny, multi-colored headbands. I removed two of the less-desired colors to use in a special Christmas project for the Littles. I wrapped each with red satin ribbon. On the first, I attached a pretty green flower sewn from vintage, ruffled trim and topped it with a sparkly button.

Unfortunately, before I managed to complete the second one, our mischievous cat absconded with one of the half-finished headbands and it hasn't been seen since--the headband, not the cat. At the last minute, I whipped up another flower in red and sewed it to a shiny green ponytail holder, finishing just before we left for our trip to Lil Rhody. Whew!

The headbands now reside in a drawer in my sewing room until I decide what I'll do with them next--maybe something cute for Valentine's or St. Patrick's Day.

Sitting at the opposite end of the counter on the dining room side, is a vintage yellow and blue Czechoslovakian candy dish. That object is in its rightful spot, but the opened bag of chocolate-only Tootsie Roll Pops propped up against the dish are not. The truth is I didn't really want to share this bag of delectable delights so I didn't put them into the dish. Funny, lots of little fingers get into that bowl full of bounty, but they never seem to look beyond, at what to my taste buds, is the greater treat. But now that I'm exposing myself, I feel a bit ashamed that I haven't shared and that I've left them out where they don't belong. I guess I'll put them away--later.

Although Christmas and New Year's Day have passed, on picture day my bedecked tree still stood in my living room. And beaming out from underneath, a gorgeous gift from my daughter begged to be hung in a special spot somewhere in my house. We took the tree down yesterday, but the beautiful mirror still waits for a permanent home to send out its wise message of reflection. (Get it?)


On the table where the mirror now rests while I write this, is a neat wooden box with old-time games inside. The words "Authentic American Pastimes Collection" sprawl across the clear acrylic cover and it's easy to see the games: Jacks, Pickup Sticks, and Marbles. The set belongs on a shelf on the porch, but it contains lots of little pieces and had to be rescued from visiting two-year-old hands. When she grows enough to reach the top of the sideboard, I figure she'll be old enough to play with--rather than eat--the game parts.

And that brings us back to the aforementioned mischievous cat. We adopted Betty 'Boom-Boom' Boop the day before her third birthday after falling in love with all of her gorgeous black beauty. Boom-Boom Betty is big-boned, for sure, but there aren't any bones in the stomach, right? Hers--stomach, not bones--waddles freely whenever she walks to her food dish. And she walks there often, checking to see whether we've come to our senses and decided to feed her more than twice daily. We haven't.

When the search for food and interfering with my belongings bores her, the Boopster loves to lounge. She has claimed the bed in the sewing/guest room as her own and though she'd deny it, the truth is she sheds. And yes, she's the queen and all that, but I still don't want to have to wash the embroidered linen duvet cover any more than necessary. So we've come to a compromise, I keep an old woolen blanket on the bed and she...well, she doesn't do anything. I guess the only give here was really on my part.

So there you have it, folks. The second creative exercise is finally completed and reported to you. Stay tuned for number three. Here's a hint: It has something to do with a Swiss Army knife!              

Another Confession

I've got a confession to make: I am having a love affair.

My husband has known about it for some time. He roles his eyes whenever he sees me meet the object of my affection. Of course, my squeals of delight probably embarrass him. And he frowns, giving me a reproaching look whenever I bring my love home. And I always give in and bring my obsession home. I can't help it.

I am addicted. To fabric. But especially to wool.

I love the way it feels and smells. When I first see a new piece or bolt of this luxurious material, my heart beats faster and my breath draws in with wonder. I touch it gingerly, then pet it as I examine every inch and marvel at the quality or color. I love it all--from the cheap stuff to the softest cashmere.
 
A few days ago, while discussing The Pillars of the Earth--a book we're both reading, I told my sister-in-law that I was really upset when the house full of wool burned. She laughed, but I was serious. I pictured all that fuzzy fleece just waiting to be molded into some form of fabulosity, transforming into hot ash. Ugh! I shudder when I think of it. Of course, the protagonist was devastated because she was financially ruined, but I was appalled at the waste of such beauty and potential. I know, I know. It's a little crazy, but I don't care. It's one of my passions!

I adore steam pressing it and breathing in the aroma while I shape it into a fiber masterpiece. It's warm and soft, and I get such a thrill when I see it in any shape or size! I love to wrap a length of it around my shoulders, revering and treasuring its beauty. I hug it to me, spin around and marvel at its magnificence in the mirror. I will never, ever tire of this exquisite textile.

So there it is. I've exposed my soul to you all and I'm not sorry. My love will wrap me in security and warmth for as long as I want. Now, if only my human true love would build me another shelf . . .

A Little Blast From the Past

Here's a little something I wrote a while ago. Hope you enjoy!

MY FIRST TIME

I had never done anything like this in my life. I admit I felt uncomfortable and skittish. Sensing my anxiety, his hand grazed my arm, leading me over to where he wanted me. When I saw the tub of soapy water, I must have hesitated because he took hold of my shoulders and coaxed me some more.

"Come on. The water is nice and warm. I promise you'll enjoy it."

Biting my bottom lip, I caught my breath as the soothing liquid covered my bare skin. I felt so vulnerable.

"Oh, this is nice." I giggled. "It's just what I needed, so relaxing."

"Yes. Settle back and let me take care of you."

I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth and sweet scent of the water. This being my first time, I began to wonder what else he intended to do to me. So far, I had no complaints.

He awakened me from my daydream when he wrapped my damp, pink skin in a fluffy, white towel. Taking great pains to dry every part of my nakedness, he gazed into my eyes.

"You're going to love what comes next," he said, reaching for a dark container. He poured some creamy, yellow liquid into his hands and rubbed them together. "I'm warming it for you," he explained in his husky voice.

Rubbing the lotion into my skin, he spoke again. "Isn't this nice?"

I rolled my head back, still not believing I had summoned the courage to come here. "Oh yes. It's lovely." I meant it. How could I ever go back to my normal life after this? I wished my husband would do this for me, but I didn't hold out much hope.

Leaning back, I felt completely relaxed and at his mercy. I'd decided to trust him to do what he must. With eyes closed, my mind wandered as he performed all sorts of rituals I had never encountered before. His fingers caressed and stroked my skin, and I thought that I might ask him to never stop.

After awhile he showed me a list of titles and asked me to choose. Blushing, I read the names. "Sin in the Afternoon, She Devil, Purple Passion." My face reddened as I blurted out, "Oh my gosh!" Feeling timid and embarrassed, and with no idea which to choose, I panicked and looked to him for guidance.

“What do you think?” I whispered.

He smiled a knowing smile. "Why don't we try She Devil. It's sexy, but not as risque as the others. I think you'll be comfortable with it."

With nervous anticipation, I looked on as his expert fingers grasped the shiny container. Watching him, butterflies frolicked in my stomach. Before I knew it, he finished the job. I examined his performance and laughed at myself for taking so long to give it a try.

Satisfied, I slid my feet back into my sandals and admired my soft, beautiful, sexy feet. My toenails looked so feminine and pretty with the glossy red polish.