loire cecilia cantle

Art is much less important than life, but what a poor life without it.  Robert Motherwell

On Saturday night TY and I wanted a quick dinner and he had a Chinese hankering so off we went knowing it was early enough, just 6, that we could most certainly get right in.  Well we did, but were eating at the bar because the joint was jammed.  It was apparently bring-your-handicapped to dinner night because every table in the place had at least one member with a walker, a wheelchair, a scooter, and the most fit of them all just had canes-  three canes at that table.  There was another party at the bar with us waiting for their table and they had to join together to hoist their tiny grannie up onto the high stool-  worried me to death she would slide off, but it was certainly a better solution than letting her sit on the brass foot rail like she originally tried to do- she was staring at their knees from that vantage point.  Then, when the table was ready they had to hoist her back down to the floor.  

We were given the bum's rush as the place filled up, but managed to enjoy the food if not the ambiance.  This is something we don't encounter usually-  we stay clear from the old-people restaurants as well as eating at that time.  But now we have put a line through this one in our mental books.  But of course, the fortune cookies-  TY didn't want his so I figure both fortunes must have been mine:

Yes I am.  

I've been stringing all my sparkly buttons to make a necklace, then adding some text to the 'Snow White Century' artists book, then sewing another seam on one of the blouses, then chewing on some beef jerky as I play on the webs, then sewing again, then seeing if the text is dry enough to paint on another layer of coffee to knock down the white, then taking out some trash (because there aren't usually raccoons in the dumpster during the week), then making some new Keureg coffee-  had a few too many cups today testing them all out.  Oh.  Can you tell?  Then sewing again, then taking a few pictures and back to the internets... and that about brings me up to now.

Yup, I am.  Making new clothes out of some consignment scarves with fancy names on them!  

One is a wool challis with a great black and red plaid with a Prada label.  The scarf was *expensive* because of that but I figure I could get a tee out of it.  Actually I was also able to get some sleeves too.  Not a bad top for an hour's work and $25.00.

The second top is a silk ikat print, VERY colorful which scares my Protestant ethic, but I'm bound and determined to finish it and have it for this summer.  I had to ditch the 6" long silk fringe or I looked like a piano cover.

I finished the black wool knit jacket with the gray polka dots and added one of the huge black buttons that the furrier gave me years ago- it'a amazingly cozy and may come with me on the trip (still have to check the mean temperatures for that time of year!).  I was able to use outside seams so it was done in a flash.

don't contact me, sorry.

A squirrel tape dispenser