glory day

But pouting always works!

I don't cope well with setbacks.  As long as things are moving along nicely I'm a calm, rational adult, but when they cease to do so I turn back into a petulant child.

Today the wheels fell off my FrockProject.  I determined that all the finished frocks were a bit too long and all needed to be taken up a bit (irritating, boring, generally time-sucking work, which if I'd thought about it at the time wouldn't need to be done).  Then when I pinned a bodice to a skirt, it was just a WORLD of wrong:

The skirt is completely the wrong colour - for the love of all that's holy, the next time I buy fabric at that shop I need to drag it out into the natural light because this is not the first time this has happened.

So I sort of whined and flopped about until De came over and together we came up with a new skirt (because I love that bodice).  But seriously, if left to my own devices I probably would have abandoned it altogether, or maybe made it up and never worn it.  And pouted.  A lot.

And speaking of irritating things, the ABs/England game is on at 1am on Sunday morning.  It isn't being shown on Foxtel but on Setanta (a channel which you only get in pubs/clubs).  So we thought we'd go to the sports bar at the casino (so not my favourite place, but what can you do) - only to find out today that the Australia/Wales game is on Foxtel at the same time.  So there's buckley's chance of finding a public showing of the ABs game anywhere in this town.

Grahh, and this is the game to decide the Grand Slam!!  I've tried pouting a lot about this problem but thus far none of the proposed solutions have worked out.

That's IT I'm not making it again

I started my day by stepping in a pool of rapidly-cooling cat vomit.  Pretty much anything was going to be better after that.

After much deliberation I re-made one of the frocks I made last week, and I'm so much more pleased with it, particularly the detailing at the waist:

I had to do a lot of tutuing and fiddling about to make the various pieces work and I'm really happy with the way it turned out.

Tomorrow I'll be spending the day in the attic to work out my next frock decisions, what luxury.

Look, I made no claims to be organised.

It is winter now, and it has been raining for nearly a week.  The cat and I have developed strategies to deal with this issue (involving a sofa, a blanket and lots of hot chocolate) and I feel we would be very good at hibernating.  Play to your strengths, I always say.

I realised the other day that I have been doing a lot of sewing for other people (blankets!) and I thought that perhaps I remembered some other stuff I'd been working on.  So I checked out the sewing room for unfinished projects - and hey! I was working on making myself some clothes!  I found a few projects, and a few more, and a few more, and hell, I stopped counting when I reached 100.

That's right.  I have well over ONE HUNDRED UNFINISHED clothing projects.

Enough!  I'm not sure how I let everything slip so badly, but I'm sick of the unfinished projects.  Obviously I'd love to have a whole pile of new clothes, but on some other level I don't think I can move on in my life without making some headway on this ridiculously over-sized project.  And while I feel quite over-whelmed I think that if I can sort out at least 50 garments in the next month I can bring some proportion to the rest of it. 

Accordingly, June is declared to be The Month That I Sewed My Clothes.  For Me.

But first I had to finish a blanket.  David had requested a blanket under which to snuggle while watching the telly*

*yes, I know this makes us sound as if we are 70.  But our house is very difficult to heat, and I'd rather snuggle under a blanket than eat bread and water to pay the power bill.

It's actually very pleasant, and the cat loves it.  I've just noticed that when left to my own devices I always make things in shades of purple, blue and green - my love affair with pauacontinutes unabated, it seems.

In order to avoid a rather clumsy segue, here's a picture of my cat in a basket:

The Super 14 tournament came to an end last week.  My beloved Highlanders came 11th - so not great, but better than 14th.  They're a young team, they seemed to enjoy playing together, and I think that if we can get the draft players to commit to a few more years we'd really be in with a chance.  The Highlanders' best game of the season was their last one, against the Crusaders (minor premiers and eventual winners of the tournament).  They were rated with no chance but against all the odds won the game 26-14.

Well, there was much cheering and clapping here, let me tell you.  I decided that to commemorate this blessed event I'd have the final score (26-14!  26-14!) tattooed across the back of my neck in a decorative cursive font, so, you know, tasteful.  David did point out that while getting a discrete tattoo to commemorate the actual winning of the tournament was one thing, getting a large tattoo to commemorate finishing 12th rather than 11th was a bit, well, sad.  I was forced to concur.  I also tried to get Ke to name her baby after a Highlanders player, and forwarded some names for consideration.  Her response was less "polite refusal" and more "completely ignored, and wondering why she's still friends with me".

The upside of the Super 14 finishing is that we have more time for club rugby (go Uni!) and the international season is starting up.  Last night the All Blacks beat Ireland in a match which wasn't particularly pretty, but it got the job done.

Month of Sewing My Clothes
Number of projects completed to date: 2.  I am not doing so well, so far.