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Showing posts from October, 2007

stranger than fiction

"This time last year I was at home on the couch with a sprained ankle," I said to my friend AJ as we finished our fourth lap during our early morning walk. "This year, I'm gearing up to run 13 miles. I'm proud of that." AJ encouraged my self-affirmation, because she's good to me in that way, but God must have decided a little modesty would better suit me because my day's been downhill since then. I came home from my jog with AJ to prepare for leading chapel at the preschool. The story was the Ten Commandments - which I'd told at Godly Play just a few Sundays ago so that presented no obstacle - but I'd already spent a good hour looking for a kid friendly song to sing after the story. Finally I decided just to go ahead and sing Johnny Cash. He's got a song for just about every Biblical situation and The Ten Commandments is no exception. I bought it from iTunes and played it a few times over to get the hang of it. Then I went and cut myself

my bad

How was I supposed to know the fabric I used for the Jawa costumes was 100% polyester? Was I supposed to know you can't dye polyester fiber, because it's not fiber but plastic? I'm making Jawa costumes for both Jack and Em. I constructed the costumes, checked them for fit, and left them in a Rit Dark Brown dye bath overnight, from which they emerged the same off-salmon color they'd been when they went in. I guess the boys will have to go trick-or-treating as Mary Kay Jawas busting their asses to earn their Pussy Pink Sandcrawler. Damn.

on my way

Yesterday I jogged 8.5 miles; today I jogged 9.5 miles. I feel in pretty good shape going into my first half marathon next Sunday. Pretty confident I can cover the full 13.2 miles. Cassie's been training, too, but she won't get to run the half with me. Yesterday toward the beginning of our run we stopped to drop her bagged poop in the dumpster behind Gavi's Italian Ristorante. We'd jogged a full quarter mile before I realized Cassie had snatched up a roll and was carrying it along with us. Poor girl; I didn't let her eat it.

saturday last, Jawa costume creation begins

Spent a week percolating and Internet-researching ideas about the Jawa costume. A number of good tutorials exist about creating authentic Star Wars props. I used a few ideas and modified them to better fit my conception of the Jawa costume. The creator of the tutorial I used noted that Jawa robes have no shoulder seams, like a poncho, so I went with that idea to cut out the costume. After cutting, before sewing. I haven't quite decided what he looks like - I'm leaning toward some sad incarnation of Voldemort - but it's definitely not Jawa-ish. Sleeves are the problem, I think. Modifying, pinning, and sewing. I'm such a novice seamstress; I always forget to cut things right side in. I have managed to remember to sew them together right side in. Lookin' better. Pretty good, in fact. Put a hood on him and he'll start looking Jawa-ish. Here's DH beginning blaster construction.

careful

The story begins here: she drives a Rolls Royce. The only Rolls I've seen in the northeastern foothills. OK, the only Rolls I've seen ever in my real life. It's a beautiful car, cream on tan, the understated elegance achieved only at great expense. The driver wears big hair and blue blockers. I used to chuckle when I saw her piloting that massive, gorgeous automobile through the unpredictable intersection of Tanque Verde and Sabino Canyon. Other drivers seem to give her a safe distance. Nobody wants to rear end a Rolls. The story continues: I'm driving to school one cheery morning. Something moves on the shoulder, walking slowly toward the road. I'll be damned! If it isn't a desert tortoise! Haven't seen but one of those in the wild... this is my second sighting. I passed carefully and pulled off the road about 100 yards away. Got out of my car and trotted toward the tortoise, thinking about that opening scene of The Grapes of Wrath. Is it true that tortoi

so I don't sew

Call me Saint Smiley, the Patron Saint of Unfinished Projects. I've got so many started, and so many ideas, but so little proof of creativity. Creativity is difficult for me. But maybe I've made a breakthrough. I made something anyway. Witness: A conversation I had this past weekend in the Women's Room inspired me to undertake a smaller project. On Saturday I attended the Southern Arizona Association for the Education of Young Children (SAzAEYC) Regional Conference at the University of Arizona. After lunch and before the second breakout session, I was washing my hands in the Ladies' when a woman waiting in line for one of the two toilets said to me, "I love your skirt. It would be perfect for Contra dancing." "Thanks," I said. "This is one of my favorite skirts. I've often wished I could sew so I could copy it and make some more." Honest to Pete, she said, "Maybe you could start with something small and work up to it. I love the w

twisty serendipity

Last night I started reading The Farthest Shore, third in Ursula K. LeGuin's Earthsea cycle. Last night I sold The Farthest Shore on half dot com, pretty much during the same hour I started reading it. Maybe my book is the Eaten One reincarnate.

careful who you're calling

The javelina returned this morning, but they were begging at the houses across the wash. Jack said to me, "Mommy! The javelina are back!" as he climbed up on to the fence. "Here, javelina!" he called. I joined him and watched as the javelina made their way across the neighbor's back yard. "Mommy? What are they really called?" Jack asked me. "Peccary?" I ventured, not sure if that was the proper answer. Apparently it was, because Jack cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered, "Here, pecker pecker!"

dearth of thrifting

Thrifting hasn't been flipping my skirt lately... the hysterically high prices at Goodwill lead me to believe someone new is pricing there. I haven't been getting as many 50% off coupons for 22nd Street Thrift Store. And I've been going to St. Vincent dePaul too often. It's the kind of store that needs a good recharging before you visit again. Last week I did manage to purchase $57 worth of groceries for $19 by using my Safeway Club Card and several coupons from their recent Grand Reopening Celebration. I'm still reveling in the glory.

monday melee

Photo credit goes to xeriscapeaz.org On Monday morning Jack woke early and had plenty of time to play with Cassie in the backyard before school. I was inside making Jack's lunch when I heard Cassie's Alert Bark, so I went outside to investigate. She was barking ferociously at the resident herd of javelina, passing through the wash behind the house, trotting on their ridiculously tiny hooves. "Jack! Come see the javelina!" I said. He ran over and leaned against the wall by the lemon tree, where the wall runs shortest. "Here pig pig!" he called. And what the hell? The big ones started coming over, and the little ones followed. "Oh-ho!" Jack was delighted when the entire herd of seven javelina---five adults and two babies---walked over to stand just on the other side of the wall, lifting their round wet snouts and sniffing our air. "Someone's been feeding them," I said, over Cassie's barking, and turned to go inside to get the camera

bodies

Today during Song Circle at the preschool I sat cozied up with Lisa, a sometimes disagreeable child who has won my heart through her crotchety but whimsical manner. Evidently she was enjoying a day of unusual contentment, because she turned her head and planted a kiss smack in the middle of my left breast, which was my most convenient body part from her position, I guess. Her affectionate gesture warmed my soul. Kids are so comfortable with bodies. To Lisa, kissing my breast through my shirt was no different from kissing my cheek, or my hand, or my forehead, or my lips. When it comes to affection from the kids, I take what I can get and thank my stars that I work in a private preschool where there are no regulations about touching children. Some schools prohibit teachers even from hugging their students. I believe kids need to feel the warmth of caring human touch not only for positive growth but also to learn how to touch others in a warm and caring way. Like I said, kids are so comfo

where, oh where?

The weekend is over. Why do I feel like I didn't do anything? Like I didn't get anything done? Friday after school I did three loads of laundry. At 7:00 we met Bin, E, and Brazey at Magpie's for pizza. Then E came home with us for a sleepover. The boys were good. Saturday morning started with a nice 5 mile jog. Handbell Choir Workshop at church, led by members of Tucson's professional group Sonoran Bells and headed by guest clinician Michael Mazzatenta. I got to ring a D3 bass bell, which weighs approximately 7-1/2 pounds. The biggest bell I ring in the church choir is a C4, which weighs 2 pounds 9 ounces. How dorky am I that I got excited about ringing that big D3? Baked the best batch of chocolate chip cookies ever, and ate 6 of them warm from the oven. Knit a row on the handbag I'm making (garter stitch... I'm a fledgling knitter). Went to Trader Joe's and Bookman's. Grilled out with my best friend, watched I, Robot with her, DH, and her DH, while J

criss cross applesauce

Today one of the teachers I work with at the preschool bent over to pick up something off the floor and it was all I-see-London. Sometimes I wear skirts to work because you get tired of wearing shorts all the time and it's still too hot to wear jeans but my shortest skirts hit just above the knee and are rather full skirts because you can't sit cross-legged on the floor when you're wearing a mini. This teacher who flashed me her goods today is a full decade older than me... I don't know if I should applaud her for feeling comfortable enough to don a skirt made from half a yard of fabric or denounce her for public indecency. I mean, there's no shortage of public indecency in my classroom. I work with young three year olds! Today Norbert swept the floor in his shirt and Crocs because he neglected to put his underpants and his outerpants back on after using the toilet! I guess in retrospect she fits right in and I should quit being so prudish.