|We've seen this image too much. If I were you,|
I'd object, too.
I didn't meet the Historical Sew Fortnightly Embellish challenge and the little spencer sits just where I left it before the surgery, partly sewn.
You see, I still can't see. Had to mend a pillowcase tonight -- little Christopher watched closely and walked me through where the thread was versus where the hole in the needle was, as I was attempting to thread it. The whipstitching I did by feel, not by sight. I know the stitches are even enough from touch.
Should I trust my
...What About the Rest of 2013?
Once the new glasses arrive?
Well, what with the surgery and its aftermath there was lots of time to think, and what I was thinking was this. Have to get healthy and stay that way so the rest of me has less chance to fall apart like the well-worn vehicle it's becoming. Used to be a cyclist, and a step class fiend (um, that's so ancient some of you probably haven't heard of it) at the gym. Loved weight-lifting. What happened? What about tennis? When was the last time my husband and I ran after stray tennis balls? That part was the real exercise for us, anyway, since it was what we mostly did when we played. What about the weekly long walks with friends, so full of chatter we forgot how many miles we'd gone?
Blame the little boys. They took my time and my health and ran off with my heart into the bargain. They can keep the heart -- it will always be theirs -- but some time and most of my health? I wants them back!
I'm attempting to sound light, but it's in all seriousness. No repeats of what I've been through these last 2-ish years, pretty please.
Then there are the lack of curtains in windows, the walls that need painting -- or repainting, and so on. Home decorating again. Le sigh. It will be fun, once I get past the grim work part. Hate paintbrushes. Dumb, evil things.
Something has to give, and you already know what the victim will be: the dear hobby.
Therefore, in 2013, NO NEW PROJECTS. (Unless the obsession gets so bad that I can't take it anymore and just have to pull out the sketch paper again. One always needs an escape clause.)
You Mean No Costuming At All, All Year?
Deep breath. Exhale. You know that your heart slows down when you exhale and speeds up when you inhale? It's true, according to a recent study reported on NPR. So just exhale more than you inhale and you'll either calm down or faint. Don't quote me on that last bit: I was extrapolating from the report.
I didn't say "no costuming"; just no new projects.
We have projects to finish up. As in, truly be done with. The spencer, of course, and the lilac petticoat. Then the ensembles for each of these will need to be pulled together, and that means learning how to tie wrapped turbans, making earrings, arranging sashes and other accessories, and hair curling and styling and powdering. The 1790s were about the last gasp for that. Now you see wherefore all the Perruquier translating. I'll be working on papillote curls, lengthy chignons, and making powder, with the aim of achieving as accurate an effect as I can. The experiments should be lots of fun. Not time-consuming.
Perhaps a hat to retrim, too. My best hat is looking tired and the ostrich feathers flop too much. Time to pull everything off and try, try again.
So that's spring and summer.
And oh, that hair. Must be fuller. Curlier. With side curls to create a cheekbone line but not look 1840s, and one or two dripping in the back. More hair styling and trying of hair products and switches.
Wait just a minute. Begad. If I'd been 50 in 1870, I'd have been, let's see, 20 in 1840...so conceivably, I could really still slink in a side curl or two, the same way I might wear a day cap. You know, clinging to youth and all that. Oh, the horror.
So think of this as a year of playtime. Nothing stressy, just playtime, while in the background I work on mending longterm health -- with exercise, not a needle -- play with the boys and husband and friends, and, oh, gargantuan sigh, wield a paint brush once more.
Can't end with a paint-brush; what a downer. Think needles and thread and curtains, Natalie!
Goodnight, dear readers! Next time, it's all about ways perruquiers help their clients "carry the hair". What's that? I don't know, either. Let's find out.