Yesterday I worked on sewing up the curtain panels for the nursery. The first one took a while because I had to figure out how to eke all that I could out of the striped fabric while learning how to line them with blackout fabric (which is some very heavy, very rubbery stuff) but I managed and got a system going. Stripes make sewing straight lines easy. (Thanks for choosing a stripe, DIL1 & HZ.) I'll get panel #4 sewn together this morning, get them all hemmed, and deliver them later when DS & DIL1 are home from OWZ's christening.
I found a peanut wreath birdfeeder at the birdseed store. I've wanted one for two years, it was even on my Amazon wishlist, [I took it off now] and I finally found one and bought it. Today I'll get Durwood to help me fill it with peanuts in the shell and hang it outside. I've come to love seeing and hearing those raucous bluejays at the feeder.
And it's snowing, not hard but... not only is it FOUR degrees, it's snowing. I heard that they were practically giving Packer tickets away since the team keeps losing and it's so darned cold. No way would you get me to sit on those aluminum seats out in that bowl today. It's cold, snacks cost a fortune, and it's three miles to the nearest bathroom. Nope, not me. Not even if I LIKED football. Remember, I only like the flyovers and I missed the last one. Tsk.
December 8--Navajo, Wearing Blanket. That red and black blanket was all she had left. Marjean had kept it when everything else had gone or burned or got stolen by thieving drunken boyfriends who were more boy than friend even when they were sober, which wasn't often. On really bad nights she'd curl up in its woolen embrace sure she could feel Grandad's arms around her and smell his tobacco. It got her through. Funny how the boyfriends would take her dishes and her shoes but not one of them every laid hands on her blanket from the years on the rez.
I don't know where that's going or even where it came from. I was right, that candy cane hat needed a pompom. See? It's nearly time for CBS Sunday Morning. Can't start the week without Charles Osgood. Toodle-oo.