So I set up two of the long tables in the back room, shoved them together, and pinned and cut out another knit t-shirt. (I feel a jag coming on--because I bought fabric for three more of them today--although I do think the shirt out of the mesh fabric will have a few "improvements"... maybe, if I feel brave--I'll show you that fabric tomorrow) You're absolutely correct if you're thinking, hey, that's a lot of striped shirts. I'm "into" stripes these days, also the knit fabric that's in my price range comes mostly in stripes. Besides the floral and geometric print stuff has too much polyester in it for me, it almost feels like swimsuit or skating dress fabric. I get too sweaty to drape myself in that much polyester, so cotton and stripes it is.
When I was cutting out I heard loud honking outside and went out the back door to see a whole lot of Canada geese coming in for a landing on the river a block from the shop. I didn't have the heart to tell them that they were flying North.
The other pattern I printed out is for a small stuffed toy called an Owl Puff. It's something else that will be made with project leftovers and LC is a big fan of owls, me too. I got some safety eyes and a square of white felt for the sclera today so I can take some yarn scraps with me to knitting tonight and get one started. I got safety eyes too. (Last week LC asked, "Do you know what the white part of your eye is called, Meemaw? I said no and she said, "The sclera." I nearly wrenched my neck turning to look at her. Where does a 2 year old learn that stuff?)
October 28--Carl Schneider, GLF-003 Golf. Dina thought she had never seen greener grass. Not even fake grass was this perfect green. She looked down at the ridiculous fawn and white golf shoes on her feet and felt the cleats sink into the ground. The club felt awkward in her gloved hands and she was confident she looked like an overripe watermelon in her green, pink, and white golf togs. "Togs," that's what the chirpy young woman in the resort boutique called them. What a stupid word for overpriced sportswear. God, she dreaded these annual company meetings when every conversation held land mines ready to explode your career into shrapnel of shame and failure, and people dressed in silly clothes and whacked a dimpled white ball around a manicured course while trying to suck up to the nearest vice-president or board member. She looked back down at herself. slotted the club back into the bag in back of the cart, kicked off her shoes, and took off for the resort. She was done trying to crack this particular glass ceiling.
And now I'm going to heat up some leftover pizza for supper and then go knitting. Sayonara.