Thursday, May 30, 2013

It's kind of like making something if I'm re-purposing it, right?

One of my Facebook posts from yesterday:

"You know how sometimes you wish and wish for something with no chance of getting it, and then one day you walk outside and there it is, at the end of the driveway, waiting for you? Yep. That happened to me today."

Shortly after posting this, I got a text from my husband...

Dave: Someone better not have left us a horse at the end of the driveway.

Me: Haha -- no. A shopping cart! One of the little ones. I've always thought one would make a terrific tack cart.

Dave: Lol. No, we can't keep it.

Me: It doesn't have a store name on it. And it's not like the Safeway ones. It's a feral cart. And it's mine now.

Dave: Feral cart? And it will live where?

Me: Under a saddle in the garage. A saddle I already have, that is. It didn't come with one. How handy for toting things!

Dave: live the dream

Me: *eekee eekee eekee* (squeaky cart noise)

Dave: Got that.

Me: If you wish, I will put up a "found" notice so the owner can claim it. But they probably stole it to begin with, so I don't think we should support that behavior.

Dave: But you finding stolen property is fine.

Me: Well, yes. I'm keeping it safe and giving its existence purpose until such time as its proper owner can be determined. If possible.

Dave: So you've let the police know?

Me: And the outlook is bleak, as it has no name on it, so it's probably best to just... what?  That is COLD. This orphan cart comes to us for help, and you want to trust the police? You're like the Miss Hannigan of carts.

Dave: They have a missing cart division.

Me: No, no -- like the dogcatcher. And the cart is Sandy. And I'm Annie.

       C'mon Sandy! Here boy! (That's me.)

       Grrr! I'm gonna take you away and gas you! Grrrr! (That's you.)

Dave: /sigh

Me: The police don't either have a cart division.  ...Do they? They'd be all like "B'Jaysus, miss, we're too busy solving the murders and catching the rapists to come get yer wee cart."

I could go on, but this is already long enough for you to see that Dave was being totally unreasonable about my windfall cart. I actually have been covetously eyeing the ones at our neighborhood Safeway for some time, and I think I even mentioned to Dave how nice it would be to have one but I knew it would be wrong to steal one. I looked into buying one online, but every retailer I found expected me to have a minimum order of six. Who needs that many carts? Well... grocery stores, yes.  And if this one had a store name on it, I'd certainly return it. But it doesn't.

So when I stepped out the kitchen door to see one sitting in my driveway, I put on my best "Oh, darn. My cart is out in the driveway again! Now I have to put it back where it belongs" expression and wheeled it into the garage. And I was right; it makes a terrific tack cart. See?

Sunday, May 12, 2013

My Mom!

'I think it must somewhere be written that the virtues of mothers shall, occasionally, be visited on their children, as well as the sins of fathers.' -- Charles Dickens
Today in America, it is Mother's Day: the day where breakfasts of cold toast and slightly spilled juice are served in bed to mothers who later have to change the sheets that are full of dribbles and crumbs -- an extra chore brought on by their children's affection. 

My mother, always a practical woman, told me that she could not abide breakfast in bed; that sitting up with her legs straight out was an uncomfortable posture for eating. As far as I recall, my brother and I never presented her with an opportunity, so everyone came out a winner in that regard. Fistfuls of dandelions in water glasses, yes, by the score. I mean, we have to hold up some tradition. 

You guys should meet my mother. She's quite amazing, really -- and I'm not just saying that because she's my mom. That's where I get it -- my creative ability, I mean -- from her. She is always making stuff or trying something new. Sewing, knitting, quilting, embroidery -- and that's just the start.  She made cheese once, and dandelion wine (not from the ones in the water glasses), and she refinished furniture. She gardens, she bakes -- I can't think of anything she's ever tried that didn't turn out. 

And she made fantastic children. I mean, look at me; I'm terrific! 

So in honor of the day, here's my blue-ribbon mother:

White-on-white quilting -- I wish the detail could be seen better in that piece. She's very talented! And she did it all without the internet, folks. Think of that! 

I love you, Mom!