The fun kind of flossing

floss2Hey look! I still have a blog! Sorry about the absence: let’s just say work has been scary busy lately and I’ve just been scary.

Hopefully, there will be some crafting pictures to show in the near future, but in the meantime, here’s a picture of my embroidery floss box. The little black dishes are vintage metal tart tins that I spray painted oil rubbed bronze. The rectangular tray is a child’s baking pan which holds my extra floss bobbins as well as a small LED flashlight which is perfect for locating the needles when I drop them (sigh). I lined the bottom of the box with a piece of scrapbook paper, and there is a plastic lid that slides into the groove at the top of the box.

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So what exactly IS this box? Why an old cigar display case. Here’s the bottom of the box – you can see the layout and display information. This was another one of those “dusty-corner-brush-away-cobwebs” finds. I love that the box keeps everything on one layer (no rooting around to find something) and that the plastic lid keeps it all from falling out when I set it aside.

Retail therapy

basketI think I’ve mentioned here that work is kicking my butt and this weekend was no exception. I worked for a few hours on Saturday, then my co-worker and I went for a little retail therapy. There was a trip to AC Moore and Bed, Bath, and Beyond and after that we went our separate ways. On my agenda was a swing through Goodwill and Gardener’s Supply.

I’m trying another air plant. Really, how can I kill the unkillable? Don’t answer that, because I already have once. I promise to love, mist, and keep this one out of kittehs’ harm. It was so relaxing to go into the greenhouse and smell the warm wet earth. Spring will come soon.

This little oval Nantucket basket was at Goodwill the last time I was there so this time I decided it would be mine. I like that it has a wooden base and the handle is so smooth. It appears to be the right size for little knitting projects, so we shall see. Right now, I’ve got cotton yarn pulled out for a baby hat project.

February PFHR

projects

This picture is all my “Pretty, Funny, Happy, Real” rolled into one.

1st – the Pretty. Ok they aren’t there yet, but work with me. Close your eyes and imagine the desk organizer painted a deep navy blue with orange floral stenciling. Can you see it? The hooks will be painted shiny black and the wood will get a coat of Danish oil. Pretty, right?

2nd – the Funny. No in-process shots, but me sawing an overhang on the back edge of the organizer. It really was job for a coping saw, but I had procrastinated long enough to start this project and I wasn’t about to let ‘lack of a tool’ get me down. And then there was the whole inability to fold the wood file back into the CatMan’s Leatherman tool.

3rd – the Happy. I scored both of these objects at my favorite thrift store as well as the lamp and doily in the background. I recently saw a version of the hooks at an antique outlet: the unit was slightly longer with 4 hooks and was 4x the price of what I paid for mine. Yeah, that made me kinda happy too!

4th – the Real. These projects have been languishing far too long. As with most of my projects, I get a mental picture, I purchase the supplies, and then I push off the actual start – which is usually the cleaning and prep work. I just gotta focus on that being part of the process!

Girly girl

PillowI found this tea towel in the IKEA  as-is section in November. It was just too pretty to use in my kitchen (besides, my kitchen is orange), so I transformed it into a pillow. Too lazy to get Martha (my sewing machine) out, I just hand stitched the sides and folded the top over, envelope-style. The towel’s hanging loop became the button loop. I fished a vintage pearly pink button out of my tin and now I’ve got myself a girly pillow.

The Really Big Shew

CashewCashew came to live with us in December of 1999. We had lost 3 of our four kitties to old age and illness, and we were afraid if we didn’t get another cat quickly, Cinco (the remaining kitteh) would never allow another cat in the house. So off to the shelter we went, looking for 2 grey kittens. There were 2 grey kittens available, but over to the side, there was a large (15#) torti curled up in a cat bed, her head draped across the edge, her demeanor as if to say, “Face it. You know you want me.” The CatMan and I didn’t say anything to each other at the time, but on the ride home, we both started talking and realized the torti (named Cashew) was supposed to be the one we brought home.

So Cashew came to live with us. She wasn’t that interactive with Cinco or any of our subsequent cats, but she loved her some human companionship. When the CatMan would stretch out after a run, she would try to crawl up on his back. When any workman came to the house, she would escort him to his spot and then stay to watch him work. In her later years, she liked to climb between the CatMan and me in bed and then at some point during the night, she would end up on my pillow, wrapped like a turban around my head. I jokingly referred to her as the CatMan’s girlfriend because when he would go to bed before me, she inevitably tucked herself into the crook of his arm, giving me the side-eye as I tried to ease myself under the covers.

She had a tiny little beeping meow for a cat so large. Her nicknames included Shewie, Shewie Watoosie, Shewie Dewies,  the Really Big Shew (using an Ed Sullivan imitation), Miss Shew, and Big Girl. We nicknamed her drooping tummy “Joey Adipose”. She loved to be combed – to the point of drooling with happiness. She was never the instigator of a cat smackdown, she swatted only if the other cat struck first. She would automatically knead her front paws and squint her eyes if I said “Shew” in a certain tone. She was the Queen of the House without a doubt.

Shew was diagnosed with thyroid disease about 1 1/2 years ago. She was a trooper taking her pills and she didn’t complain about having blood drawn. Since December, she had been in  gentle downhill slide, with the past two weeks being the worst. We weren’t really sure how old she was when we got her (best guess: about 3), so we estimate she was 17 years old when we finally laid her to rest on Tuesday. The vet who was with us was the same one who had teased us 14 years previously (at Shew’s first visit) that tortis were aloof and then wrote on her chart that she was “obese” (which to anyone but a doctor looked like “overt”.) We all had a gentle laugh again about that, which I thought was a fitting way to celebrate the life of a kitty who had brought us all joy and unconditional love.