Durwood had the TV on when I got up this morning and everyone's talking about that horrible shooting in Connecticut. Tears just leak out whenever I think about it. What possesses someone to...? Well, it's unspeakable. I'm not sure stricter gun laws are the solution, though, if a person wants a gun badly enough they'll figure out how to get one. There's always a way. Even the sky seems sad today. We're planning to check out the winter Farmer's Market today. It's sponsored by a group dedicated to local and organic food. Today there's an expanded holiday market. I don't know what that means but I'm guessing expanded = crowded. Durwood's hoping for hydroponic tomatoes, the grocery store ones are back to tasting like cardboard. I didn't get all the secret sewing done yesterday, I kind of goofed off getting blog posts done and my Ravelry projects and stash updated so it was later in the day that I fired up the old sewing machine. I did get all the laundry done, though. That's the best thing. Now Durwood and I will have clean undies and socks. Clean is good. I was kind of in a funk yesterday morning, not wanting to do anything, and I delayed taking my shower until after 11 AM, but once I was clean and combed and dressed in all clean clothes, I felt like a new woman. I told Durwood that and he said, "oh, I don't think I can get used to a new one." Silly. I reassured him that even clean from top to bottom I'm still the same old whack-job he's come to know and love. I like to make him feel better when I can. As long as it doesn't take much effort, that is. Today's Photo a Day theme is "outdoors" so I was looking out the windows as I was waking up and I noticed that the warm-ish temps of the last few days are melting the snow and that's making all the little paw prints on the patio slowly disappear, so that's what my outdoors looks like today. It's damp and dreary out there, it should snow instead of rain which they say it's going to do. Ugh. Ugh ugh ugh.
December 15--Norma Kamali, Evening Ensemble. Jane felt like she was suffocating in the gray silk. It was the color of ashes and seamed in odd places. Cords ran through the sleeves, down the legs, and were braided into a belt. The fabric clung to her skin. It felt like peeling sunburn skin the way it clung and flapped when she moved. Nissy's dress wasn't much better. It was made of the same ashen silk with cords and knots. The shiny silk and nylon bodice fitted her like the proverbial glove and the straps reminded Jane of restraints, but the clothes were by some famous designer and Nissy said they'd get "seen" if they wore them. Jane couldn't decide if that was good or not.
O-o-o-okay. Not going there. I think it's time I got moving and see when Durwood wants to go to the market and to the Pig and Aldi (I think) and... well, you know how Saturdays can be. Hasta la vista, babies.