It's hot and i am sewing frantically trying to get ready for the show on July 19. I didn't have to go to work today because I had to take my daughter to see her doctor at UCLA. We have been going to this man for 15 years and I still feel like i have to explain everything to him that I have told him over and over again. Why not change doctors you may ask? Because my husband has some strange affinity for this man and basically hates change. It's too much work. Anyway, as the man (the doctor that is), was droning on and on, all i could think about was the sewing I could be doing! Oh well, we basically solved very little during the 2 hour ordeal and left us all feeling a tad exhausted. And, I'm trying to be better about not turning on the air conditioner, but at my age, hot and sweaty is not an attractive look! Well back to my machine!

Opie the O'Possum

My dog Toby is a daschund (I never know if I am spelling that correctly). Someone told me once that dashchunds (maybe if I spell it differently every time, I will get it right one of the times) were originally bred to hunt and kill gophers. It totally makes sense to me. He is my protector. Even when the rest of my family could care less what I am doing, Toby is following me around (to be fair, he could just be looking for me to drop food that he can snag).

Anyway, last night I let him out to pee one last time before bed and he didn't come in and I heard a racket of barking and snarling outside my bedroom door. I went out to take a look (and to make him be quiet before the police, FBI, CIA and neighborhood watch were called) and I saw he had a huge (okay, I exaggerate, a very, very large) possum in his jaws and he was throwing it around like a rag doll. I immediately thought of rabies. He gets his shots regularly for this very reason. So now, to add to the thunderous noise in my backyard, I started screaming at him "You're gonna get rabies from that thing!!! Drop it now!!!" He, of course, ignored me completely and tossed the thing some more. I know I should love all of God's creatures, but I find possums really repugnant. I apologize to anyone who thinks they are cute. And, by the way, you should seek professional help.

So there I am, wrestling with a dog who is wrestling with a possum. Someone should have gotten it on film. I finally got him away from it and shoved him inside. Now is when you should tell your children to stop reading. But I will say, no cute, fuzzy animals were harmed in this story. However, really, really ugly ones were. I went out to look (carefully) at the possum. It was toast. I could not bring myself to throw it in the garbage at 10 pm. So I went to bed.

This morning Toby could barely contain himself he wanted to go outside so bad. I was not fooled into thinking his bladder was that full. No dummy, moi. So I went outside and low and behold - the possum was gone! Either Harry Potter came to visit and transfigured it into an ivy leaf or, it really wasn't dead. I guess "playing possum" isn't just an old saying. So, all's well that ends well.

Ode to Opie

There once was a hideous creature
Who, really needing to pee, sure
That he was alone,
He strayed far from home,
And my dog rearranged his features.

Apologies to Angie.

Standing Still with Scissors

Okay, first I have to have a disclaimer. I do not guarantee my typing will be typo free. I am typing with a handicap. Yesterday I was making a fabric rose and I have taken to using a pair of scissors to cut a way into the rose to ease the passage of the stem (sounds very technical, no?) Well, I wasn't paying attention (I was watching a very tense part of the movie "Taken") and the scissors sliced thru the fabric quicker and stronger than I had anticipated (because, let's face it, I wasn't paying attention) and sliced right thru my index finger too. It was such a sharp pair of scissors (a major anomaly in my house) that I didn't even feel the pain right away. But, THERE WILL BE BLOOD. All over the place. I think there may even have been arterial spray. Okay, maybe not...But, I take a blood thinner because I have the dreaded cholesterol. Can I hear everyone say "EEEWWW". So the wound wouldn't clot. I went thru about 50 paper towels and finally got it to a slow ooze. Then, once again, my friend and colleague Tina came to my rescue and got the bandaid on me. So, that is my explanation for a lousy typing job. Although, I would venture to say it was pretty good for Karen, the nine-fingered hobbit. With apologies to Tolkien.

Past My Bedtime

Normally I would be in dreamland by now (it is 10 pm and counting) but my son looked at me sweetly (after seeing that I went to the vegetable stand) and said innocently "Why'd you get so many onions?" and then "Those onion rings you made us would be really good as snacks at Grandma's tomorrow." I said "Maybe tomorrow." He told me there wasn't enough time and that he would really appreciate it if I made them tonight. Which wouldn't have been so bad except that it is 1000 degrees in the kitchen and the stupid things have to soak in buttermilk for at least an hour. So think of me (if you are still awake) at 11 pm when I start to make homemade onion strings. I know Tina loves them so maybe I'll save her some (if Jon lets me). They are so good they even taste good cold. You have to slice the onions really thin so that they aren't big clunky things, they are really like shoelaces after you deep fry them (okay, that didn't come out right - I really don't deep fry shoelaces as a rule but you get the idea). Okay, I have officially hit the 1-hour-in-the-buttermilk mark so I gotta go fry. I'll probably wake up with zits for my trouble.

My mother is a very sweet woman if she likes you. Watch out if she doesn't. She has never been one to "suck it up" when it comes to pain. She is very melodramatic about everything in her life. She is definitely one who looks at the glass as half empty. However, she has a wicked sense of humor and she can gossip with the best of them! I love her dearly and I worry that I am so far away should something happen to her. I know it has been no picnic living with my dad all these years. She is in the hospital right now due to the tremendous arthritis that has crippled her so greatly. I live with many memories of my childhood that haunt me even to this day, but the memories of my mother are my most cherished. Although her gait is slow and the hair is gray, I will always think of her as that exotic Cuban lady with that splash of mystery. Tina

Football People

Have you ever noticed that people that love football are completely insane? I mean, come on. These people eat, sleep and breathe football. Jon is on the freshman team at his school and they have to practice as much as the pro teams do. And, OMG could they make it any more expensive? They have this "Fun Pack" that it is highly suggested that you buy. It includes pom-poms. What are we, 12? Can you picture me with pom-poms at my son's high school football game? I don't think so. And even if I would debase myself enough to wave pom-poms around, do you think my son could ever live down that image? Only through years of therapy. Poor Jon can't even walk he is so sore. But he seems to enjoy it. Great, another football person is born.

Waxing Poetic on Fabric Bouquets

Yes, I have become official and started to name my blog posts. And I have decided to (ewww) punctuate officially. So much for the rebel in me. Okay, so now I am working diligently on fabric bouquets and I think I like them just as much as hats! I never thought that would happen. They make me smile to look at them. Even though my burnt pointer finger still has not recovered. And please explain to me why I seem to hit it anytime I do anything. I can't do the dishes anymore because it hurts so much when soap/hot water hits it. Of course I am joking. No one in my household knows how to do the dishes. They have finally learned to bring the dishes to the sink but I have to assume they think the dishes magically fly into the dishwasher. Or maybe it's the kitchen elves. Anyway, I hope the fabric roses are a hit. I love them!