Valerean

If I want to buy new shorts for myself I'll have to fork over between $15.00 to $20.00 per pair -- and that's at Wal-Mart, which is supposed to be cheap. I'd rather save money and make them, so I went to the local thrift and got these two pair of trousers (with pockets!) to alter, both for $13.98. To alter pants into shorts, you put them on, mark with a safety pin where you want the hem of the shorts on one leg, take them off, and cut off the leg you marked 1-1/2" below the mark in a straight line. Fold the pants in half, cut off the other leg at the exact same spot, then turn them inside out, double fold the hem inside out by 3/4" on both legs, pin and sew on a sew machine. You can sew them by hand but you'll need to use small stitches. The white pair of pants (I was tempted to keep these as trousers for winter, but I kept imagining how easily I'd stain them.) Here are the finished shorts. They fit me perfectly, they have pockets, and I...

Last week we went to visit our nephew in his new home, which is beautiful. As we were leaving I noticed he'd framed and hung the bag of money I made for him in the laundry room. It's a reminder that he is loved. :) I ordered a bag of mystery dice for my daughter, who also plays D&D (I was a dungeon master while I was in the military.) The dice are a pearlescent blue and lavender, and perfect for someone who lives in the islands. I finally sent a message to the vendor at the online thrift auction about this lot that I won back in June but has not yet arrived. They responded immediately, told me they're having staffing issues and can't find it, and issued me a full refund without me having to ask for one. That is the kind of customer service you just don't see anymore these days.

I've gotten back into hand writing a personal journal while I document the ongoing changes in my life this year. I don't write quite as much (or as prettily) as I used to, but the daily habit adds to my peace and calm. While we were walking around The Mercantile last week I spotted some journaling kits, emphemera and mystery bags of vintage things that gave me an idea, and invested in these three. First, the mystery bag's contents: A beautiful old beaded purse, four spools of vintage thread, an empty wooden spool, lavender, and seven cut sections of a birch branch. Everything fits inside the purse and will stay there while I cook up some ways to use it. The purse is definitely going to be a journaling project. :) The journal ephemera pocket matches perfectly with the journal I'm using right now. It contains a lovely little collection of tags and papers. The journal kit was a big surprise; I didn't realize it came with so many bits. I...

Last summer I wrote a short story, After, that at the time I wasn't comfortable sharing online. It was a kinda-sorta sequel to Valen , just with zero romance and a more realistic (or so I thought) view of life after death. I also wrote without a filter, something I almost never do. I'm finally over that angry, bitter time in my life, and I can let go of this story now. Is it real life? Is it fiction? I'll let you decide. Image Credit: Myriams-fotos from Pixabay

While we were on our road trip for my birthday we drove through Rockledge and saw the old hospital they are demolishing bit by bit. I've never been able to get so close to this kind of job site and it fascinates me, so I snapped a few more pics from the car. Aside from it being excellent visuals for a story I'm writing for pleasure (yes, everything is grist for the mill) there is something haunting about getting close to such large scale destruction. It's apocalyptic for sure, but it's also a stunning visual metaphor for many things. The deconstruction site reminds me of how I've always torn down myself for never being good enough for others. No matter how much success I achieved, it was never enough for any of them. I was pushed to do more, land more contracts, write more books, and hand over the money I made. Everyone demanded, no one encouraged. As a result I never wasted any opportunity I had as a professional. When one thing didn't ...

Two years ago I made my first memory quilt out of my old t-shirts. It was also the last time I would even think about making a t-shirt quilt because I struggled so much with the execution. Cotton jersey is a nightmare to sew, even on the machine. My hands didn't want to cooperate so I couldn't do as much embroidery as I wanted to (that was the very first time arthritis kept me from quilting, I think.) The fact that it's become one of my favorite quilts does not tempt me to revisit the experience. I also know I couldn't make this quilt now (or it would take me a year or two.) The old me struggled with the making; the present me would not even try. I can barely hold a needle anymore. So I crochet, and I tell myself that's a reasonable substitution because what else can I do? I crochet well. I crochet a lot. Still, I miss quilting. And I hate that I miss quilting. And then I miss quilting and the me who could do it even more. And then I hate myself a li...