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Gardening blitz today, as I'm in panic mode: leaving Sunday morning! Agh!
So into the ground with the two tomato plants I bought like uh a month ago, in with the last three or four sad little pansies still in their packet, into the ground with the lone wave petunia that didn't go into a planter with the others, into the ground with the packets of herb seeds, into the ground with the bush beans and pole beans and little pot of oregano and little pot of thyme to replace the dead English thyme. Into the ground with all of it.
And yes, the last few strawberry plants-- a couple of them are still waiting for me to make those last crucial decisions about the boundaries of the raspberry bed. The raspberries have no right to be doing as well as they are, but they are-- I thought last year that I'd lost all of them, but actually it looks like I only lost two of the seven or eight. German mounds for the strawberries will finally make a border for that bed. I need to look into getting some edging or something. Bricks? How would bricks be? The front yard is all brick. I need to do it up proper one of these days. I can't bear to use plastic bricks, though.
Laundry too-- must do the last of the laundry. Shit! I have to pack. Ugh. It's going to be tight-- I Myspace messaged the Albany rollergirls, whose season ended 27 April, and asked if they were up to anything given that it was their off-season. Apparently their "off-season" consists of 3 practices, an open skate, a charity benefit, and a parade in 1 week, the week I'll be there, so it's totally worth schlepping not only my skates but also my outdoor wheels. (I'll miss the Pride Parade in Buffalo, but I could skate their Pride instead! Wouldn't that be fun? Though my father's sarcasm would probably be somewhere between red and white hot, it would be fairly entertaining on many levels. I admit I'm not as political as I should be, and my appreciation of Pride is mostly as Ye Festivalle of Fabulous-- I mostly just love skating around in miniskirts flashing fundamentalists and swigging from vodka bottles proffered by drag queens. It's kind of like many atheists I know at Christmas, only extra hypocritical. But hey. I am a fan of love in all its forms.)
That'd be a lot of skating.
But that means one whole suitcase is filled, and I only get a little backpack for all my clothes plus all the fabric for the sewing projects I'm planning on having my mother help with. Shit! I've got to print out all the patterns I've been using off the Internet, because my mother is not the type of sewer who will be happy with nebulous descriptions like "Oh yeah I just cut some big triangles there it kinda fits right?"
I have not, by the way, managed to even look at the sewing machine again. I have sewed almost an entire smock by hand, on the theory that I really should learn backstitching and hemstitching anyway, but of course I'm stalled at the intricate bits like, oh, sleeve gores and yeah, there's supposed to be something besides just a slit for my neck here, hm.
But the skirt is done! That must mean something.
Yes, it means I handsew slowly but steadily while sitting on the porch in the evening drinking gin and tonics with Z. It's a lifestyle, yes, but it's not terribly productive. My problem is that during the days while he's busy, I do housework and computery things; in the evenings, when he's available, I don't want to go lock myself in a distant room to sew on the machine.
Eh well.
The garment itself is not authentic enough to warrant handsewing, either. But whatever. Maybe I'll get good at this?
Oh, I wanted to try hemp boning and the only hemp cord I could find at the craft store was so thin it was like thread. Hmmm... Noooo. Thread ain't gonna support these hefty funbags. (Last night one of my teammates said, "Those are a hell of a motorboat! Man they ain't even a motorboat! That's like a whole cruise ship! And not one of those little three-day Carribbean cruises either! Those are like, a 20 day cruise from Panama to Saskatchewan!" When I pointed out that to my knowledge, Saskatchewan was landlocked, she said, "Yeah, it's kind of a rough ride.")
Also I am skating tomorrow night-- I don't think it's a secret at this point, as our rosters were made known at least to the officials this past week. I was an emergency last-minute substitution. One of our girls is just too banged-up to skate, and I wasn't initially on the roster partly because of course I have no proof of health insurance. But I've found out for sure that while the new plan won't go into effect until they can do a paperwork interview next week, it will be retroactive, back 3 months no less! So I "will have had" health insurance. It's kind of like when Univera made me pay them several hundred dollars so I would have had health insurance during the months I did not have health insurance, even though that was entirely unnecessary and I'd rather have just had it going forward. OK whatever. (And in the end, they never did give it to me.) I have set records with how many different companies have now fucked me in different ways. It's really astonishing. I know nobody believes me but I swear to God, I am not making this up. Blue Cross lost my COBRA paperwork twice.
So anyway. I am skating, so now I'm glad that I, along with all the other KOs who didn't make the initial roster, kept busting my ass anyway. I've skated harder this month than I think I ever did.
Also, I have put on another five pounds, and am now heavier than Mia Mauler. Yes indeedy do. B grew herself an ass this season, how I have no idea. But day-um. It is an ass that can knock people over, too. I'm rather proud of it. No Kelly in seven generations has had an ass, but I do. (I get the boobs from the Denison side, most likely via the Zeh lineage-- but for the record, none of them really had asses either. The Shavers may have had asses but I don't know, I never met Grandpa's siblings. Yes, I come from genealogists, I can't help it, but unfortunately family trees don't usually include notes like "Had Immense Rack" [or, more usefully, "Had Deformed Molars" so I'd know where that came from].)
And then I gotta get on a plane the next morning, despite my promises to get my tits out with everybody else at the after-party. I may just stay up, and hope to sleep on the plane.
So into the ground with the two tomato plants I bought like uh a month ago, in with the last three or four sad little pansies still in their packet, into the ground with the lone wave petunia that didn't go into a planter with the others, into the ground with the packets of herb seeds, into the ground with the bush beans and pole beans and little pot of oregano and little pot of thyme to replace the dead English thyme. Into the ground with all of it.
And yes, the last few strawberry plants-- a couple of them are still waiting for me to make those last crucial decisions about the boundaries of the raspberry bed. The raspberries have no right to be doing as well as they are, but they are-- I thought last year that I'd lost all of them, but actually it looks like I only lost two of the seven or eight. German mounds for the strawberries will finally make a border for that bed. I need to look into getting some edging or something. Bricks? How would bricks be? The front yard is all brick. I need to do it up proper one of these days. I can't bear to use plastic bricks, though.
Laundry too-- must do the last of the laundry. Shit! I have to pack. Ugh. It's going to be tight-- I Myspace messaged the Albany rollergirls, whose season ended 27 April, and asked if they were up to anything given that it was their off-season. Apparently their "off-season" consists of 3 practices, an open skate, a charity benefit, and a parade in 1 week, the week I'll be there, so it's totally worth schlepping not only my skates but also my outdoor wheels. (I'll miss the Pride Parade in Buffalo, but I could skate their Pride instead! Wouldn't that be fun? Though my father's sarcasm would probably be somewhere between red and white hot, it would be fairly entertaining on many levels. I admit I'm not as political as I should be, and my appreciation of Pride is mostly as Ye Festivalle of Fabulous-- I mostly just love skating around in miniskirts flashing fundamentalists and swigging from vodka bottles proffered by drag queens. It's kind of like many atheists I know at Christmas, only extra hypocritical. But hey. I am a fan of love in all its forms.)
That'd be a lot of skating.
But that means one whole suitcase is filled, and I only get a little backpack for all my clothes plus all the fabric for the sewing projects I'm planning on having my mother help with. Shit! I've got to print out all the patterns I've been using off the Internet, because my mother is not the type of sewer who will be happy with nebulous descriptions like "Oh yeah I just cut some big triangles there it kinda fits right?"
I have not, by the way, managed to even look at the sewing machine again. I have sewed almost an entire smock by hand, on the theory that I really should learn backstitching and hemstitching anyway, but of course I'm stalled at the intricate bits like, oh, sleeve gores and yeah, there's supposed to be something besides just a slit for my neck here, hm.
But the skirt is done! That must mean something.
Yes, it means I handsew slowly but steadily while sitting on the porch in the evening drinking gin and tonics with Z. It's a lifestyle, yes, but it's not terribly productive. My problem is that during the days while he's busy, I do housework and computery things; in the evenings, when he's available, I don't want to go lock myself in a distant room to sew on the machine.
Eh well.
The garment itself is not authentic enough to warrant handsewing, either. But whatever. Maybe I'll get good at this?
Oh, I wanted to try hemp boning and the only hemp cord I could find at the craft store was so thin it was like thread. Hmmm... Noooo. Thread ain't gonna support these hefty funbags. (Last night one of my teammates said, "Those are a hell of a motorboat! Man they ain't even a motorboat! That's like a whole cruise ship! And not one of those little three-day Carribbean cruises either! Those are like, a 20 day cruise from Panama to Saskatchewan!" When I pointed out that to my knowledge, Saskatchewan was landlocked, she said, "Yeah, it's kind of a rough ride.")
Also I am skating tomorrow night-- I don't think it's a secret at this point, as our rosters were made known at least to the officials this past week. I was an emergency last-minute substitution. One of our girls is just too banged-up to skate, and I wasn't initially on the roster partly because of course I have no proof of health insurance. But I've found out for sure that while the new plan won't go into effect until they can do a paperwork interview next week, it will be retroactive, back 3 months no less! So I "will have had" health insurance. It's kind of like when Univera made me pay them several hundred dollars so I would have had health insurance during the months I did not have health insurance, even though that was entirely unnecessary and I'd rather have just had it going forward. OK whatever. (And in the end, they never did give it to me.) I have set records with how many different companies have now fucked me in different ways. It's really astonishing. I know nobody believes me but I swear to God, I am not making this up. Blue Cross lost my COBRA paperwork twice.
So anyway. I am skating, so now I'm glad that I, along with all the other KOs who didn't make the initial roster, kept busting my ass anyway. I've skated harder this month than I think I ever did.
Also, I have put on another five pounds, and am now heavier than Mia Mauler. Yes indeedy do. B grew herself an ass this season, how I have no idea. But day-um. It is an ass that can knock people over, too. I'm rather proud of it. No Kelly in seven generations has had an ass, but I do. (I get the boobs from the Denison side, most likely via the Zeh lineage-- but for the record, none of them really had asses either. The Shavers may have had asses but I don't know, I never met Grandpa's siblings. Yes, I come from genealogists, I can't help it, but unfortunately family trees don't usually include notes like "Had Immense Rack" [or, more usefully, "Had Deformed Molars" so I'd know where that came from].)
And then I gotta get on a plane the next morning, despite my promises to get my tits out with everybody else at the after-party. I may just stay up, and hope to sleep on the plane.
