Monday, March 31, 2014

April is in 2.25 hours.


Hey, shmibbles.  What's crackin?  April looms upon us (indeed, it IS April in many parts of the world right now.  California gets April very late).

It's been a weird few weeks.

My dad's mom died on the 14th.  She was 99 and a half.  What can you say when someone who is 99 and a half dies?  You had a good run, lady.  I wish your last decade had been easier.

Of course, when someone dies in a small family such as mine, there is much "stuff" to sort through and absorb.  Mom and I spent many many hours going through my grandmother's house, because Dad didn't seem capable of dealing with that particular unpleasant task.  Mom and I are very good vultures.  We are quite efficient bone-pickers.  Everything has been catalogued and sorted and folded and delivered to the people who could use the objects most- wheelchairs and whatnot to veterans organizations, furniture and housewares to people we know who would not otherwise have such items.  I've inherited many many objects in the last few weeks, which has been stressful to say the least.  I'm still weeding through my maternal grandmother's belongings, and now I've got paternal grandmother's stuff to boot.  I cannot bear to part with things that are useful, or solidly-made, or weird.  There is a lot of all those things in my house right now.
My new dictionary stand.  The dictionary is 6 inches thick.
Grim needlepoint, which is something I can get behind.
My dear friend from back in the day came to California for a whirlwind visit.  She has 9 siblings, and the youngest was getting married.  As her mom no longer lives in town, and only 3 of the 10 kids still lives here, and all the kids have big ole Mormon families, there was a dearth of guest rooms and couches within her immediate family.  I'm cheaper and less icky than a hotel.  Indeed, I actually wash the bedspreads!  She brought her 3-year-old daughter.  This is the first time a child has been in my house for more than five minutes since I moved in.  I spent many days cleaning and hiding potentially upsetting objects.  The dog LOST HER MIND.  One day, I would like to feel the sort of love for something that Trixie feels for guests.  I doubt a human heart can hold such an emotion.  The Small Girl Child was quite taken with the rats, however.  She fed them many treats, and they loved it.
While this is not a picture of my guest room, it does show how clean my house is right now.  Yes, that's a doily.  Yes, I washed the slipcover, the blanket, the doily, AND the tablecloth before people stayed here.  I guarantee that the hotels around here won't do that.

Allergy season has descended upon Southern California.  Antihistamines have become a food group again.
Am I allergic to wistera?  I might be.  
In a crushing wave of apathy (fueled by a fistful of Benadryl, consumed because the wind was blowing), I made the executive decision to skip the Ren Faire on my birthday next Saturday.  I just couldn't muster up the energy to hide my pink hair and ditch my sunglasses and drive out into the dust and heat.  The sunglasses thing was at least 50% of that decision.  I'm getting crabby in my old age.  Maybe I'll go another weekend.

In a fit of non-apathy (fueled by heaven knows what), I made another executive decision to go to Maker Faire Bay Area this year.  It took some serious rearranging of the entire work schedule (thank you, Coworkers, you have no idea how grateful I am that whole training days were rescheduled just so that I could go poke around a big weird event).  I think I'm going to go by myself.  I like attending things alone, especially if there's a drive involved.  I shall go see what I shall see.  I haven't taken myself on a vacation since… oh, maybe the sculpting workshop in 2010?  I've visited friends, but that's different.  This is just me going for the sake of going.

MAKER FAIRE

There is a show on the Science Channel called "How It's Made."  Usually it's just large-scale factory sorts of things, occasionally smaller scale stuff.  I caught a segment about restoring vintage advertising posters.  It involved chemicals, and painstaking color matching, and artistic ability, and an obscene attention to detail.  It made me very angry, because I had no idea that this sort of thing was something people did.  I'm bashing around in the bushes with kids getting skin cancer and dying from pollen overload, and I've been doing this for 11 years, and I could have been RESTORING ART?  I flailed about quite violently after the episode.

I got my hair cut.  It's very short.  I'm still trying to figure out how to make it look decent.
When my hairdresser does it.
When I do it.

13 comments:

  1. Jealous of your Wisteria and I prefer your hair the way you do it :)

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    1. I used a bigger curling iron today. It's sticking up much higher now. :)

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  2. That needlepoint cushion is blowing my mind. How old is it do you think? Please tell me it's older than a few decades... I don't want to be restored.

    On that note, I can't believe the sort of things people get paid well to do.
    More importantly, what kind of person does one have to acquaint themselves with to get in the know?!

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    1. My mother made the cushion, for my great aunt (who was grim and optimistic at the same time). It couldn't have been made earlier than about 1976, I don't think. My mother is a very accomplished needlewoman.

      As far as the job- I feel like my high school guidance counselor failed me. Miserably.

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  3. It's not too late to get a new career ;)
    I love your new hair! The cusion is perfect in your home :)

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    1. I wonder how one switches careers? We all learn how to build one, but never how to ditch one for another!

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  5. I love that dictionary and stand! I remember my parents had a big dictionary like that with the little page indents (what are those actually called anyway?) with lots of coloured plates. When I was a small child, my favourite plate was the bugs. I can distinctly remember the stag beetle. Funny how I can remember that but not what I did yesterday, isn't it.

    I like your hair better when you do it, too. :)

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    1. Mine has no color plates, but it IS open to the page defining both "mylodons" and "myriapod." There is also a gold dinosaur sitting on the shelf now, with a big fat copy of The Columbia Encyclopedia.

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  6. what's funny is that your hair seems pinker in photos than in person. Small Girl Child was talking about the visit to EVERYONE who would listen while at the post-wedding lunch. the rats, the bats, the hide-and-seek gold dinosaurs, sleeping on the floor, bat bedtime stories, Tante-this and Tante-that . . . she also requested a bat bedtime story Sunday night when we got home. luckily I had one.

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    1. Tante's house is not a grown-up house. There are grown-up things inside it, but it is definitely not for grown-ups. Tante wonders how other adults do that.

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  7. I love your hair short!
    The Maker Faire is amazing and a terrific case of overstimulation. Nevertheless, I will be there too! I will look for you PAAANK hair and say hello! We like the robots made from leftover heavy equipment that bash each other and catch on fire. Mom likes the dark room with the glowing things. We park at Sears and walk over. They have beer :-)
    You are very creative and talented. Working with the public can be a burn out and 36 is not too late to make a switch!

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    1. I shall have to keep you posted on my hair color so you will be able to find me amongst the throngs!

      Overstimulation? I shall have to make sure I have my meds, so I don't just fizzle and escape for a nap!

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