A HOLIDAY WEEKEND

It’s not a four day weekend for us.  Darn it.  I mildly pleaded with him to take half a day off next week.  I’ve become a nagging wife reminding him of things...that the gym opens at 0530.  Reminding him that he could walk around the block.  Reminding him that I don’t want him to die.   There he sits at his computer from 0630 to 2000 with a break for dinner.

Refusing to become a virago…which the dictionary says is a violent, bad tempered, shrew, termagant, I’m just living my life and worrying about him.

Living means that slowly my costume for Comic Con comes together.  I worry that the top is too narrow at the waist, but I will add gussets rather than cut it out again.  It’s amazing that I finally remember those sewing terms I learned so long ago from my neighbor who taught me to sew, Elaine.   Ease, stay stitching…terms like that.  Only once did I err putting the wrong side of my fabric on the outside.  The top is together.  The sleeves are cut out, the cap eased into shape, and I will sew it on today.  Start on the skirt too.  We have lift off.

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• Himself:  George has discovered that he can make costume parts using his pasta maker.  Yes, he used to make wonderful noodles.
• Herself:  Going by the store with two bags of donated books…thank you Claudia and Poolie.  Poolie looks vastly better probably because she is home full of steroids not in the hospital with a drip in her arm.
• Reading:  ”Tales from the Back Row.”  Fashion perhaps at its worst.  Snarky.  Amy Odell.
• Gratitude’s:  That I only care a little about staying in style.  A little.