I think I may be able to metabolize alcohol
Whoever recognizes the subject line gets 100 points for Griffindor.
--My sewing bee on Saturday went really, really well. Two middle-aged ladies from the Regiment came over, plus one of them brought her thirteen-year-old son. We all made a nice big party, in such a small apartment. I cut out and pinned and started to sew the pieces of my chemise; I'll have to finish it off tomorrow. It felt great to work on a pattern on my own. Generally, when I'm starting a sewing project, I ask my mother to help me. And that's nice and all, but now I realize that it means I'm always going to be insecure about sewing on my own, unless I take that first step and begin a project all by myself. Well, now I've done it, and it was quite easy. Mind you, it's pretty hard to screw up a chemise irreparably.
Mrs. Polly Bones was a lot of fun to sit and sew with. I know her because her husband, Billy Bones, is a friend of my parents and comes to our singing parties. Mrs. Bones is withdrawn, and more than a little sarcastic, and I never really got to know her well for those reasons. Well, she's a lot of fun once you get to know her. How often does that actually happen, that people really are nice When You Get To Know Them? Anyhow, it happened with her. She brought an old pair of stays that she wanted to fix, and while I cut out my chemise she took out the old boning and replaced it with new. I tried on the stays, and they fit so well that I'm going to make myself a set.
Mrs. Bones and Mrs. Pupkin both greatly admired the blue silk hat that
justawenchmade for me. I tied it over my modern-day hairstyle and wore it around the house all afternoon, just to show it off. It's good to have my favorite accessories noticed by people who know all about 'em.
Also on the fantastic clothes front, Mrs. Bones had an 18th-century dress jacket that she couldn't fit into anymore and wanted to give away. It's lovely. It fits me perfectly--or at least, it will when I make a new stomacher to fit into the front. The fabric is cotton tapestry print, with green vines and pink and lavender flowers on a light yellow background. And it goes perfectly with the hat Wenchy made for me! I adopted the jacket straight away. I'm thinking a rose-pink stomacher would be nice. Of course, the more clothes I make, the more I want. Last summer, I saw a woman dressed in a polonaise gown over a white petticoat. She had red hair, and the gown was soft, thin green-and-white striped cotton, with white flowers in the green stripes. WANT. It was the most lovely outfit that a red-haired woman could possibly wear. I'm going to try and get us together to go fabric shopping. I should also take a look online, because even the expensive fabric stores around here are sadly short on historical fabric patterns.
--On Sunday morning, we went over and saw an old friend of Dad's and his toddler son. We all went out to try and get a maple-sugar breakfast, but were thwarted because the place was too crowded for us to get a table. Instead we went to the diner, and then for a long drive and a walk up the mountain road. Beautiful views, beautiful clear air. The river looked splendid. I can't wait for the weather to get a little warmer so I can get out in my kayak. Perhaps I'll do what I've been meaning to do for two years now, and put in at a launching-place twenty miles upstream in the morning, and ask my parents to come pick me up near home in the evening.
By the way, this is the second time I've been frustrated when I wanted a maple-sugar breakfast. The last time I posted about it, I got sick the next day--a horrible flu-y thing where the world spun every time I stood up. Fortunately it only lasted 24 hours, and I spent most of the time in bed happily watching Dr. Who. This time, we got to the sugaring house too late. But--ha, ha!--next time I shall PREVAIL!
--The last All-Comers Band Dance happened on Sunday night. We had ten dancers on the floor and seventeen musicians on the stage. Everything went quite well and it was a lot of fun--and we made $113, enough to recoup the losses of the last two dances as well as covering the price of the hall this time. It was very heartening. Of course, now Myrddin has had an attack of enthusiasm and wants us to go on with the dance series after all, and do one in May and another in June. I'm just going to tell him that it was great fun, but I'm not up for any more organizing for the moment. If he wants to hold the series, I'll come and dance, but I feel like I've done my bit, when it comes to helping him with the dance. It's his baby, after all.
What I want to do is wait for a little while, and then start a dance series of my own, right here in town. I'll find somewhere cheap to rent once a month, or apply for an arts grant. I think this town needs a dance, and I think I could make one work.
--Tonight I went clubbing. Be amazed. You know how I've been moaning about how I don't get out enough and I don't know where to start? Well, I've made myself pick a couple of places and damn well go to them. And it was great fun. I put on my red velvet top and old black pants, and I went to the Goth club that meets on Tuesday nights. There I had a glass of red wine (what can I say, I'm all class) and sat and watched the dancers. They weren't half bad. Next time I'll get up and dance. (This time I had my cruddy old shoes on, and I was embarrassed to go out on the dance floor.) I'm still getting used to the concept of "dance" meaning "bounce around by yourself" rather than "May I have this dance?" The up-side is, it takes the fear of rejection away from dancing, but the down-side is, dancing on your own looks kind of silly to me. But there's another up-side, I guess--it means more showing off. There was this one guy who kept up this stomping routine all evening, waving his fists and pumping his elbows. If somebody less macho had done that, it would have looked like the Funky Chicken, but he was pretty studly and it just looked natural for him. There were a lot of good female dancers, including this one chick who brought two neon glowing pom-poms and did a lovely little twirling routine. One of the guys had a couple of glow-sticks too--he looked a bit like Darth Maul, now that I think of it. Altogether, it was a lot more playful and charming than I'd pictured. There were a few creepy-looking types, including this one sleazy middle-aged guy whom I've met who gets on my nerves, but they kept themselves to themselves. Most of the people there looked like they were out to play dress-up and have a good time.
Later this month they're having Zombie Night. I've got to go to BRAAAINS that because of my longtime fascination with BRAIIIINSSS the undead. The only BRAAAAIIINS BRAIIIINS problem is going to be explaining things to my parents in a way that does not cause them to freak out. Oh, well! If they do freak out, it's their problem. I'll simply tell them in a polite, straightforward way that I'm going to Zombie Prom Night, which is the reason I am covered in green flaky paint and wearing a pink strapless mini. They can make of that what they will. Anyhow, I have a new hobby. It's a little pricy, but, at $5/ cover charge and $5.50 for a glass of wine, not as bad as it might be.
--My sewing bee on Saturday went really, really well. Two middle-aged ladies from the Regiment came over, plus one of them brought her thirteen-year-old son. We all made a nice big party, in such a small apartment. I cut out and pinned and started to sew the pieces of my chemise; I'll have to finish it off tomorrow. It felt great to work on a pattern on my own. Generally, when I'm starting a sewing project, I ask my mother to help me. And that's nice and all, but now I realize that it means I'm always going to be insecure about sewing on my own, unless I take that first step and begin a project all by myself. Well, now I've done it, and it was quite easy. Mind you, it's pretty hard to screw up a chemise irreparably.
Mrs. Polly Bones was a lot of fun to sit and sew with. I know her because her husband, Billy Bones, is a friend of my parents and comes to our singing parties. Mrs. Bones is withdrawn, and more than a little sarcastic, and I never really got to know her well for those reasons. Well, she's a lot of fun once you get to know her. How often does that actually happen, that people really are nice When You Get To Know Them? Anyhow, it happened with her. She brought an old pair of stays that she wanted to fix, and while I cut out my chemise she took out the old boning and replaced it with new. I tried on the stays, and they fit so well that I'm going to make myself a set.
Mrs. Bones and Mrs. Pupkin both greatly admired the blue silk hat that
justawenchmade for me. I tied it over my modern-day hairstyle and wore it around the house all afternoon, just to show it off. It's good to have my favorite accessories noticed by people who know all about 'em.
Also on the fantastic clothes front, Mrs. Bones had an 18th-century dress jacket that she couldn't fit into anymore and wanted to give away. It's lovely. It fits me perfectly--or at least, it will when I make a new stomacher to fit into the front. The fabric is cotton tapestry print, with green vines and pink and lavender flowers on a light yellow background. And it goes perfectly with the hat Wenchy made for me! I adopted the jacket straight away. I'm thinking a rose-pink stomacher would be nice. Of course, the more clothes I make, the more I want. Last summer, I saw a woman dressed in a polonaise gown over a white petticoat. She had red hair, and the gown was soft, thin green-and-white striped cotton, with white flowers in the green stripes. WANT. It was the most lovely outfit that a red-haired woman could possibly wear. I'm going to try and get us together to go fabric shopping. I should also take a look online, because even the expensive fabric stores around here are sadly short on historical fabric patterns.
--On Sunday morning, we went over and saw an old friend of Dad's and his toddler son. We all went out to try and get a maple-sugar breakfast, but were thwarted because the place was too crowded for us to get a table. Instead we went to the diner, and then for a long drive and a walk up the mountain road. Beautiful views, beautiful clear air. The river looked splendid. I can't wait for the weather to get a little warmer so I can get out in my kayak. Perhaps I'll do what I've been meaning to do for two years now, and put in at a launching-place twenty miles upstream in the morning, and ask my parents to come pick me up near home in the evening.
By the way, this is the second time I've been frustrated when I wanted a maple-sugar breakfast. The last time I posted about it, I got sick the next day--a horrible flu-y thing where the world spun every time I stood up. Fortunately it only lasted 24 hours, and I spent most of the time in bed happily watching Dr. Who. This time, we got to the sugaring house too late. But--ha, ha!--next time I shall PREVAIL!
--The last All-Comers Band Dance happened on Sunday night. We had ten dancers on the floor and seventeen musicians on the stage. Everything went quite well and it was a lot of fun--and we made $113, enough to recoup the losses of the last two dances as well as covering the price of the hall this time. It was very heartening. Of course, now Myrddin has had an attack of enthusiasm and wants us to go on with the dance series after all, and do one in May and another in June. I'm just going to tell him that it was great fun, but I'm not up for any more organizing for the moment. If he wants to hold the series, I'll come and dance, but I feel like I've done my bit, when it comes to helping him with the dance. It's his baby, after all.
What I want to do is wait for a little while, and then start a dance series of my own, right here in town. I'll find somewhere cheap to rent once a month, or apply for an arts grant. I think this town needs a dance, and I think I could make one work.
--Tonight I went clubbing. Be amazed. You know how I've been moaning about how I don't get out enough and I don't know where to start? Well, I've made myself pick a couple of places and damn well go to them. And it was great fun. I put on my red velvet top and old black pants, and I went to the Goth club that meets on Tuesday nights. There I had a glass of red wine (what can I say, I'm all class) and sat and watched the dancers. They weren't half bad. Next time I'll get up and dance. (This time I had my cruddy old shoes on, and I was embarrassed to go out on the dance floor.) I'm still getting used to the concept of "dance" meaning "bounce around by yourself" rather than "May I have this dance?" The up-side is, it takes the fear of rejection away from dancing, but the down-side is, dancing on your own looks kind of silly to me. But there's another up-side, I guess--it means more showing off. There was this one guy who kept up this stomping routine all evening, waving his fists and pumping his elbows. If somebody less macho had done that, it would have looked like the Funky Chicken, but he was pretty studly and it just looked natural for him. There were a lot of good female dancers, including this one chick who brought two neon glowing pom-poms and did a lovely little twirling routine. One of the guys had a couple of glow-sticks too--he looked a bit like Darth Maul, now that I think of it. Altogether, it was a lot more playful and charming than I'd pictured. There were a few creepy-looking types, including this one sleazy middle-aged guy whom I've met who gets on my nerves, but they kept themselves to themselves. Most of the people there looked like they were out to play dress-up and have a good time.
Later this month they're having Zombie Night. I've got to go to BRAAAINS that because of my longtime fascination with BRAIIIINSSS the undead. The only BRAAAAIIINS BRAIIIINS problem is going to be explaining things to my parents in a way that does not cause them to freak out. Oh, well! If they do freak out, it's their problem. I'll simply tell them in a polite, straightforward way that I'm going to Zombie Prom Night, which is the reason I am covered in green flaky paint and wearing a pink strapless mini. They can make of that what they will. Anyhow, I have a new hobby. It's a little pricy, but, at $5/ cover charge and $5.50 for a glass of wine, not as bad as it might be.