We're on "baby watch." Have I told you that? Yeah, I probably have. Yesterday the UPS man brought something more important than mere Christmas gifts, he delivered the Pack 'n Play I got for half-price on Overstock.com. This is how it looks with the bassinet installed which I'm sure will be the way the newest Malcolm will use it for a month or two before he/she needs the "big kid" level. This is a very clever item the way it collapses like an umbrella and locks into shape; it even has a little mobile with leaves and a giraffe dangling over the bambino. I think the little danglies are more for me (since I'm a real fan of giraffes) but hopefully Cletus (the fetus; working title) will like it too. Errol the owl seems to like it, don't you think? He's the only baby human-ish analog we've got. Oh, and I laid in a 50 pack of little (but not newborn) diapers too. Just in case our baby needs clean pants while it's here visiting Grandma and Grandpa.
No sewing got accomplished yesterday. I had errands to run and a doctor's appointment (all good) so today's the day. I got one bed's sheets changed and will do the other just as soon as Durwood's not in it, then I can wash sheets and towels while I'm cutting and sewing. I had a brainstorm in bed last night--since I've got barely enough fabric to cover the windows I'm going to dig in the boxes (and boxes and boxes) of hem tape and bias tape from Mom and use some to turn the side hems to preserve as much of it as I can. Brilliant, no?
It's 6 degrees outside. Yes, that's what I said, SIX. (see the ice in the birdbath even with the heater on "blast"?) It was 9 degrees when I came home from knitting last night and I told Durwood that he wasn't going to be going to meet his Census 2000 friends today even if I drove him and dropped him at the door, it's just too damned cold. Thirty degrees takes his breath away, six degrees would have him on life support. Not worth the risk--plus his pals just called to say that they're not foolish enough to go outside today either. That settles it. *nods wisely in vindication*
I finished the candy cane hat at knitting last night but I'm thinking it needs a pompom. Yeah, it needs a pompom. I'll whip one up later and sew it on, then I can cast on another hat using that upside-down flower pattern and the cream yarn from the candy cane one. I'll use some of the sage green from the Barley hat for the stem. It'll be awesome. Speaking of knitting, last night Sylvia, one of the regulars, handed out her Christmas cards, which were slices of a cheesecake & pudding pie she'd made in a graham cracker crust with canned cherry pie filling on top. I thought about not sharing with Durwood (because I'm a greedy and selfish person) but it was a lot and I love him so we shared. I told Sylvia when she gave it to me that it wouldn't make it until 10 o'clock and I was right. It didn't make it much past 9:30--and I got home at 9:10. There were two very fast spoons dipping into that container. Yum. There's no picture, once the first bites was taken all bets were off, no time for taking pictures. (maybe if I give the container back she'll fill it up again... actually I need to think of something to put into it before I give it back, maybe some nuts since she's got all kinds of health issues but she was eating a bag of nuts when I arrived last night, yeah, good idea and there's a school fundraiser display of deluxe nuts at the U Bake down the street; I'm on it--since I have to go to the bird store later to see about a different birdbath heater that's flatter so it doesn't get uncovered after a few sparrow baths like our current one [damn the squirrel that chewed through the cord of the flat one anyway])
December 7--Pottier and Stymus Mfg. Co., Side Chair. Nettie never wanted to sit in the chair she called "the throne." Granny Beale sat in it all the time and she was an old sourpuss. Nettie figured it was because the carvings on the chair poked her in the back. Either that or Granny's shoes were too tight. Just last week Mama had dressed Nettie up in a frilly pink dress with a scratchy underskirt and give her the most awful white lace socks and tight, really tight, black patent leather shoes. "They're squishing my toes, Mama, they hurt me," she said but Mama snapped at her, "Get used to it, pretty shoes hurt." Mama meant to take her to some tea party at Mrs. Leopold's house but while Nettie was waiting on the porch their dog, Sam, rollicked up and shook stinky ditch water all over her itchy pink dress. Mama cried a little, not enough to ruin her mascara, but she left Nettie home to get cleaned up. Nettie made sure to wedge those pinchy shoes in the springs of her bed and promptly forgot where they were.
You stay warm. I'm going to go make me some oatmeal, I think, something warm and rib sticking. At least the sun's shining, there is that.