tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17946379899578169962024-03-23T06:14:40.149-04:00Chinese Takeout--Life With Our Little DumplingOn July 9th, 2007 a Chinese woman whose name we don't even know put our daughter into my arms. And if you think that is strange, try flying from Beijing to Newark with 13 babies. Parenthood begins in many ways. If you're waiting for your own little dumpling, go to the July posts for a sneak preview of what is to come.LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.comBlogger349125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-61313165100318316422015-07-05T14:08:00.001-04:002015-07-05T14:08:14.882-04:00What's YOUR lifestyle brand?On Saturday Chris took me to the Country Living Magazine Fair in Dutchess County, New York. She is a dedicated fan of the magazine and I was dedicated to a girls getaway day, so it was the perfect road trip.<br />
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We did some shopping at the miles of vendor booths then took in a cooking demonstration by the Beekman Boys. I did not know who they were, except that my friend Thomas had posted a picture of them with him on Facebook, so they must be famous. This was confirmed as they were introduced as the "fastest growing lifestyle brand in the country". My jaw dropped. How does a nice unemployed gay couple in Manhattan in 2008 turn an old house and 80 goats into a 'Lifestyle Brand'. I was fascinated, and very very jealous.<br />
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I was not interested in what they were cooking. That didn't matter because they were charming, the number one ingredient in a Lifestyle Brand. I learned they had lost their corporate jobs in the crash of 2008 and decided to make their historic upstate New York summer home, Lifestyle Brand Ingredient #2, into their main income source. A local farmer, who had lost his barn, asked if he could move his goats into theirs. So it began.<br />
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While the Beekman Boys cooked, I started whipping up my own lifestyle brand. I had the historic house and property, the rest should be easy as pie. They had taken the adorable gay couple with flawless taste, striving to better their own community angle. I would have to play to my strengths.<br />
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Through all of the work on our property, and daily life, there has been a common theme. What skills do we need to survive the zombie apocalypse, or even just a plain old collapse of the governmental infrastructure. I admit it's more of a running joke than a theme. Maybe it's also more of recognizing that the way people did things 200 years ago made more sense than the way we do some things today.<br />
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When I got home from the fair, I did a little internet trolling in search of the secret to the Beekman Boys' success. There I found a photograph of one of them seated next to Martha Stewart, whose company he had been a vice president for. With that information, my dreams of seeing "The Brightside" neatly printed on labels in a vintage modern font adorning rows of honey and hand soap evaporated.<br />
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Or maybe I just have to scale back my empire. There's got to be enough paranoid survivalists with a quirky decorating style who love heirloom chickens and have money to spend who are left out of the top Life Style Brands. Out in the garden, I hear Maizie waiving my planting pitchfork, yelling "MOM! I can use THIS to kill the zombies". Yes, little girl you can. And in my head I see rows of pitchforks each with a neatly printed vintage modern label, "The Brightside".<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-69468844302548618962015-05-17T17:30:00.000-04:002015-05-17T17:30:55.010-04:00The Wild Wild Life<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is not about my crazy days of youth, roaming the United States in a Silver Eagle tour bus, taking a show out of a couple of tractor trailers every morning in a different theatre, putting on the show, putting it all back into the trucks, and doing it over again, the next day, and the next. Living my own version of Little House on the Prairie was something I never saw coming, sitting in the back lounge of the tour bus at 2am, and far stranger to me than a bus and truck tour.<br />
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We have a dog. I always wanted a dog. No big surprise. The house we bought had a barn, so we had to get chickens. Those chickens are 2 years old, so we have a dozen more chicks arriving on Tuesday. Really, why have a barn if you don't have livestock? Maizie wanted a rabbit. We didn't want a rabbit, so we got her gerbils instead. She still wanted a rabbit, so we got her a rabbit.<br />
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Some neighborhoods have an old stray tom cat that roams from house to house. Our neighborhood has a stray peacock that roams up and down the road. Last winter the neighbors asked us if he could stay in our barn for the winter, so he didn't freeze. We let him go a few weeks ago, but he still spends time with us, and our hens.<br />
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And that's just the domestic list. Two sides of our property adjoin state forest so we get bonus wildlife. A few days ago a neighborhood flood of texts tracked the progress of two black bears walking down the road. I would have run out and taken pictures if I had been home. It's what we do.<br />
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One morning I caught a flash of grey fur from my studio window. My first thought was that a neighbor's dog was loose, until I saw it was a large grey fox. I went outside to get a better look. How cool! I thought. Look he's heading to the backyard, near the barn. And finally it clicked in that he was headed to the chicken coop to dig his way into the run. I took off running and yelling and was half way to the barn, before I realized two things. I was barefoot. More perplexing that the fox was standing at the corner of the barn, looking right at me and he wasn't moving. Then another thought. What exactly was I going to do to the fox when I reached him? And the regret that I hadn't picked up the large metal shovel by the back door.<br />
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I ran back to the house to put on shoes and grab the shovel. Sadly the shovel wasn't where I thought it was. I raced back outside anyway, the sound of shrieking chickens filling the yard. Maybe there was a stick in the yard I could grab on my way out. Yes, a stick. It was early. I hadn't had caffeine yet, which was probably the reason I had run out of the house barefoot in the first place.<br />
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This time my wild arm waiving, alas no sticks, did drive him off. Or more correctly,he decided to saunter off. The chickens were all safe, but my adrenaline rush lasted all morning. No need for coffee after all.<br />
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Somedays are less exciting, just a hour and a half drive to a raccoon rescue organization before dinner, that's all.Wednesday, when David was mowing the lawn, he nearly hit a baby raccoon. When I went out to see it, and take pictures, it was making the same terrible sound I had heard from the woods on Sunday.<br />
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It was adorable and heart wrenching. I don't know how he survived that many days on his own. He kept crawling towards me and David. It was very hard not to pick him up like a lost kitten. Instead I got onto the Inter Web and found a state licensed rehabilitation center for him.<br />
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It's when I'm trudging to the barn in 2 feet of snow, or trying to protect my livestock, that I think about the people who carved this house and barn out of the uncut forrest. Generations who relied on their livestock and protected it from the true wild, who did it without electricity, gas, medicine or decent shoes.<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-50329265059088976312015-04-06T08:48:00.000-04:002015-04-06T08:53:00.255-04:00Everything I Needed to Know I Learned From Television and the Internet"You can do anything for 10 seconds", my life coach Kimmy Schmidt from Netflix The UnBreakable Kimmy told me. "You just count to ten, then you start over again". I've been very busy lately. Who hasn't? Who isn't? Who made me so busy? I did. Who can unmake me so busy? I can. Look here's ten seconds now of not being busy. <br />
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I cannot just sit and do nothing. When I'm doing laundry, I'm planning dinner, making sure the dog has water, is the kid's library book in the backpack, there's another Etsy email to answer. On and on. I sit down to watch TV and realize I should be folding laundry. I'm so busy trying to win everything, I forgot about me. Don't you forget about me. Family, house,livestock, business, I am the only one who can take time to care for myself.<br />
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So I did the only logical thing a woman of a certain age does. I went on a diet, but only for one day. Then I started exercising, but only for one day. Then another, and another. Don't get me wrong, my definition of a salad is the lettuce and tomato on my Quarter Pounder with cheese. Which I also discovered I could stop eating for one day, and the next. There is no kale or quinoa in my cupboards. I will have a peanut butter cup, just not half the bag. I can have a coke if we are out for pizza, just not the refills or half the pie.<br />
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Then there's the treadmill. Not the one of get up sew something, clean something, eat everything, go to bed. An actual treadmill. There's only one thing I can do on the treadmill. That one thing is only for me, and that feels really good. So does looking at the numbers on my scale.<br />
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Then this advice from the inter web led me another truth.<br />
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Every morning I put on paint stained sweat pants and a matching paint stained t shirt, sometimes the same ones for two or three days. Who's counting? So what if my hair is greasy. The only person I see all day is the kid running the Dunkin Donuts drive through when I run out to pick up lunch. I'll shower tomorrow.<br />
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I looked like a slob. I felt like a slob, but I don't have to. I'm wearing pants with an actual waist band and zipper right now, just like an adult with a job they have to leave the house for. I do not have a bag of french chalk by my side. There are dishes covering every flat surface in the kitchen, but I've got eyeliner one. That's just for me though.<br />
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Two weeks in of one day at a time, I feel better. I know because I lasted almost a full hour of Wii's Just Dance with my kid, and it felt gooooood.LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-86590515079437592432015-01-24T15:57:00.000-05:002015-01-24T16:31:23.867-05:00Snow's A'Comin' ! Where's My Screw Gun!?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There are people who rush to the grocery store at the weather man's first arm flap about a snow storm. Unless you are my husband. His first reaction Friday to the impending weekend storm was, "Can I get to the Home Depot before Maizie gets home from school? Nothing is more tragic than being trapped inside for a weekend without the proper construction materials.<br />
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Let's be clear. I am NOT complaining. Take a look at my spiffy new kitchen island.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXoeG0Bvz16-y_3feq0ff7AxsIYH-WmQYKhjlGZ76e-hQJDJ_v7Kb18dRhm5W8MEWyVZEaTGNf5_IGsobr8MYDkRGnpDU2vBeMH8oMS2nkxxVSOi2ltgm_slL_OrcZYE1yECzIA7tS5o/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJXoeG0Bvz16-y_3feq0ff7AxsIYH-WmQYKhjlGZ76e-hQJDJ_v7Kb18dRhm5W8MEWyVZEaTGNf5_IGsobr8MYDkRGnpDU2vBeMH8oMS2nkxxVSOi2ltgm_slL_OrcZYE1yECzIA7tS5o/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a>Each time we discussed which room to rehab next, the kitchen stayed on the bottom of the list even though it was the room that made me want to weep. Too little storage, and my nemesis; the 50 year old stained blue carpet that housed all sorts of things that could creep out and kill you. It drove me crazy, but I could still cook dinner in it.<br />
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This summer we reached a milestone. For the first time in 3 years, all the rooms were habitable. You could walk through the dining room without walking a plank while looking down into the basement. Maizie had plenty of room for her arts and crafts. David could finally unpack his collection of string instruments. There was heat in rooms that never had heat before. There weren't collections of tools in every room. I came to the realization that my excuse for not cleaning the house was not longer valid. For years I cheerfully refused to clean regularly because there were carpenters ripping down ceilings, or plaster to sand.<br />
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David finally cracked under the lack of pressure to restore a room. The Sunday after Thanksgiving, he caved. Rather, he headed for his man cave and came out with a crow bar swinging. And a Sawz Awl.<br />
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The kitchen was next on the to-do list. It is still a few year's away until we can afford to do a major over haul. That didn't stop my husband. He started a list of what needed to be done. The first three were things that he could do himself. So began his 'Beta Kitchen'.<br />
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The odd little divider wall between the kitchen area and bathroom was the first to go. That alone was a game changer. The cabinets that had occupied the divider wall became the start of a kitchen island. Nothing was as exciting though, as the day the skanky carpet and stained linoleum came out. A new wood floor is part of the 2nd wave of renovations, but for now a cheap peel and stick linoleum tile floor is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.<br />
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The best part of the 'Beta' kitchen is the ability to change it as we go. In the first week we moved the refrigerator at least three times. Being able to live in the space as we decide what we want is keeping us from designing and building a kitchen only to discover it doesn't work the way we wanted it to.<br />
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Today David focused on the island. We started with cabinets and a little kitchen table pushed together to rough in the idea. The table is gone now, and a set of shelves has become the legs to a new counter top. Who knows what will happen the next time it snows?<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The kitchen when we moved into the house, 2012</span></b></div>
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Divider Removed. You can see why I loved the blue carpet so very much.</div>
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Beta kitchen island, made from cabinet section removed from original kitchen wall divider.<br />
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On the left, one of my favorite parts of the renovation, a door to my studio. I didn't know I couldn't live without one, until David surprised me with one.</div>
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The wall on the right was one of our first projects when we moved in. The stairwell originally led down to the basement. The door originally led to a closet that we combined with the small room off of the dining room to create a full size bathroom on the first floor.<br />
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Two weeks ago while I was still recovering from the Halloween landslide at<a href="http://www.fairygodmotherforhire.com/" target="_blank"> Fairygodmother For Hire</a>, I started thinking about how I could repeat my sales success. Almost all of those sales were of costumes for girls aged thirty and up. Clearly big girls still like to dress up. I was thinking about what else I could make for them, shuffling through all the Christmas sales fliers on my desk. Like a sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer dropping on my head, it came to me. What about Mrs. Santa Claus? I needed to do some research. I quickly typed 'Mrs. Santa Claus' into the internet machine. Most of what came up was extremely inappropriate for anyone handing out gifts to small children, or over a size 4. You could have filled Santa's bag with corsets, thongs and garters, sparkly red and trimmed with marabou.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdxUXf3l9kj6vl-2TzUStB1VYEprYC6DWH4zlI_zYVP7HHfkzKlMVRWfeqft-G35dPM2siUL974Ofck0BB_zN7AfZUsD8SFx7fhoeoiPZ4VNjf1k5m1TpEEM-SazDtv5QU69xQnVVE7w/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsdxUXf3l9kj6vl-2TzUStB1VYEprYC6DWH4zlI_zYVP7HHfkzKlMVRWfeqft-G35dPM2siUL974Ofck0BB_zN7AfZUsD8SFx7fhoeoiPZ4VNjf1k5m1TpEEM-SazDtv5QU69xQnVVE7w/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" height="200" width="133" /></a>What about women who want to dress up to celebrate Christmas with their families? I wanted to make something old school Hollywood, "White Christmas" not Hooters. I decided to do a red cape and skirt, with white fur trim. I had some velvet holly leaves and red beads, a beautiful shade of red, like vintage glass christmas ornaments. Pulling off the look is dependent on the richness of the fabric. My fabric supplier carries a rich heavy weight satin that drapes beautifully.<br />
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I was nervous when I ordered 25 yards of satin, the minimum allowed from my wholesaler. Maybe it was a crazy idea. Or not.<br />
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The day after I placed my order, a return customer asked if I would consider doing a Mrs. Santa costume. Maybe not so crazy after all.<br />
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Check out the short and long versions of my Mrs. Claus on Etsy.</div>
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-64827522753749477072014-11-05T16:13:00.000-05:002014-11-05T16:13:31.044-05:00Seriously<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: left;">On October 30, we visited the mall to be greeted by Santa's Workshop. Or what was his workshop. It looks like Anna and Elsa will be squatting in his digs for the winter. Why the big push for Christmas? Couldn't they at least have waited for the parents to finish eating all the chocolate out of their kids trick or treat pumpkins?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JZaveJ8yVCdnsYXjfkcZB3T0vmIZ7RbkryRYGtDjCY64PxNN1nbEgXLm-_1eOvjRA08SDQKN_hhvlsrrL5SucFoZdFRdKkQsPARVNWmt6hgp9meX3FgykhPcqteeWwGrHSJuY7dE-Z0/s1600/IMG_2114.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_JZaveJ8yVCdnsYXjfkcZB3T0vmIZ7RbkryRYGtDjCY64PxNN1nbEgXLm-_1eOvjRA08SDQKN_hhvlsrrL5SucFoZdFRdKkQsPARVNWmt6hgp9meX3FgykhPcqteeWwGrHSJuY7dE-Z0/s1600/IMG_2114.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a>My business is very Halloweencentric. That means I am too busy making it happen for everyone else to enjoy my own. Do you know how depressing it was to finish my orders, only to find that Christmas was breathing down my neck? I headed to the attic to haul out my Halloween decorations.</div>
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Sadly, the storage bin yielded only a few faded witches and pumpkins. Maizie's face mirrored the Peanuts gang when Charlie Brown dragged in the scrawny stick evergreen tree. (WHOA, wait your turn Christmas imagery!). The only Holy Grail in the collection was my circa 1970s plastic pumpkin lamp. This called for serious retail retaliation. We headed out to shop.</div>
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Once we scrambled over the barricade of life size Santas, wreaths, sleighs, scary elves and reindeer we found a few spooky and glittery Halloween treasures. When did Halloween become a sparkly holiday? We hit about 5 different stores acquiring a decent trove of decorations, at deep discounted prices.</div>
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Halloween maybe come and gone, but if the mall can herald in Christmas before the Great Pumpkin makes his appearance, my scary decorations are staying up awhile longer.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oV5CAYl9JkVFYaSyoga87iBFQhgQGog8dueb83hdxMCZJN7SrQkCENA4nyRgpSvaOrJeQ5uOhM7I9FGJ0xhWjcSygI4SGhumjEt9w6PpIt27TD38Mkgz-ujIt0-zKrdittaBszWLp-o/s1600/DSC_0192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5oV5CAYl9JkVFYaSyoga87iBFQhgQGog8dueb83hdxMCZJN7SrQkCENA4nyRgpSvaOrJeQ5uOhM7I9FGJ0xhWjcSygI4SGhumjEt9w6PpIt27TD38Mkgz-ujIt0-zKrdittaBszWLp-o/s1600/DSC_0192.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Vintage Plastic Pumpkin lamp amid a few of my new collection.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The favorites of our Hauloween goodies, the bristle rats from Pottery Barn. </td></tr>
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-58608108288259880732014-11-04T16:22:00.000-05:002014-11-04T16:22:07.789-05:00I'm BAAAaaaack!It's been a whirlwind ride the past few months. Surviving a shark attack really changes your outlook on life. Once I was back on my feet, I decided to pursue the tap dance career that I had only dreamed about.<br />
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Or not. But who wants to read 'I've been in my studio sewing for the past 4 months'? I've been running a work marathon since summer. What is exciting about it is that my business, Fairygodmother For Hire surpassed my goals for this year. I said that I could sell whatever I make. That's not entirely true. I can sell more than I can make. Now I need to get smarter about how I make it.<br />
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The flood of Halloween orders started in July, that's right July. On top of that were two shows I was designing for the school. It was exciting and exhausting, simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Finally I realized I had to work smarter, and invest in some help. This time I brought in the big guns.<br />
I turned to my talented friends from Hartford Stage days for sewing assistance. Now I had a little breathing room and the bonus of reconnecting with people I used to see every day.<br />
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My Halloween orders have all shipped last week. My kid has a Halloween costume. Last night was the final dress rehearsal for Midsummer Night's Dream at the school. This is the first day since June that I feel is totally mine. <br />
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I think I'll clean my studio.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgt0bWwy82X5nNLFjxgQ1w6WAxUmwGpEi7BGg9FUzmDSbPTWntCROLkWkxN25BZTi5J9-4YgzBAYCUlNS-wg7YuWSPv4xFw1o11lWNR2bQpHuV8ACzOS064aH3Js_FQFv3XzvXKCDB58/s1600/TitaniaMisummer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOgt0bWwy82X5nNLFjxgQ1w6WAxUmwGpEi7BGg9FUzmDSbPTWntCROLkWkxN25BZTi5J9-4YgzBAYCUlNS-wg7YuWSPv4xFw1o11lWNR2bQpHuV8ACzOS064aH3Js_FQFv3XzvXKCDB58/s1600/TitaniaMisummer.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-65823353781424323942014-08-23T16:09:00.001-04:002014-08-23T16:09:05.079-04:00This Is NOT My Sewing Room<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1cnvabY5xr6rdxMj9IEev6526-dQSsD-SFJXWnch9NOHCc-1WBqd8Tnxs6qsk9Ek5aeVHF-XZpRXbkw7vUJK-aRFk9gD0Lb-xYeNEUHCunFOaO3fDmpX8idyyEgWb8KRwifogKGhxmE/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1cnvabY5xr6rdxMj9IEev6526-dQSsD-SFJXWnch9NOHCc-1WBqd8Tnxs6qsk9Ek5aeVHF-XZpRXbkw7vUJK-aRFk9gD0Lb-xYeNEUHCunFOaO3fDmpX8idyyEgWb8KRwifogKGhxmE/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a>It's my <i>studio</i>. Also, unless you want to raise the hackles on the back of my neck, do not call me a <i>seamstress</i>. I'll tell you why. <br />
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First a warning to my Hartford Stage friends who heard me give this speech eleventy billion times to tour groups through the costume shop. They may feel free to roll their eyes now, just as they did way back then.<br />
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Here's why I don't have a sewing room. You would never say that you nailed a house together. It takes so much more than nails to make a house, and I do so much more than just sew in this room. I run my business in this room. <br />
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David convinced me to buy this house with the promise of my very own studio. He showed me a spacious front room with windows. After sewing in the basement for 2 years, that notion made my head swim. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YojulH7shQSzfomXP-4bRSgws-YL0TVFWnOA8DQFWhicwSyDW5shuonzihQVLx_NeVs4yD9Abrj7zd8goQ8RgQevGodyXCFEKX6ijANQwXShub65ZblcGoKRozr_O2r_2x7TURExGOc/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5YojulH7shQSzfomXP-4bRSgws-YL0TVFWnOA8DQFWhicwSyDW5shuonzihQVLx_NeVs4yD9Abrj7zd8goQ8RgQevGodyXCFEKX6ijANQwXShub65ZblcGoKRozr_O2r_2x7TURExGOc/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a>Almost three years after we moved in, I am in a different room, bigger and with more windows. It seems very selfish, but how I do love my space. My former studio, is now a playroom/office/music studio for David and Maizie. The other front room, which was supposed to have been David's studio, is now our living room. My studio is now in the room we used as a living room/dining room for the past 3 years. Ironically, the only room that is still in the same configuration as when we moved in, is the kitchen. You know, the room that we had 5 different plans for how and where we would relocate it to?<br />
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Before I moved in to the new space, a new coat of paint was in order. I had a very complicated color scheme for the first studio. It was a disaster. I thought I had to get inspiration from colonial colors. The problem is, I am really a mid century modern kind of color person. My old space just didn't feel like me. For the new space, a bright aqua Mermaid blue was just right. I am especially proud of my curtain valances made from vintage handkerchiefs, even if I can't quite look at them the same way after Maizie announced, "Old people blew their noses on your curtains".<br />
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The room had plenty of built in book cases, but what I needed was closet space. After removing the shelves and adding closet bars to the built ins, I got my wish. They even look good.<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-17524081592346274182014-07-23T13:08:00.001-04:002014-07-23T13:12:58.448-04:00How Could This Accident Have Been Averted or OW My Eye<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0Q3eKEWGHq2BK_gbRPv-WNTj6OdVzdxX6lsFicu_SFHHzOu4zIqpXgk1-euDgRIfC-31kd6DcS56BngXENDLKoUdoRW6mGTfSQ5zXOIWr_z-QvV33az2d9a2JRdKQF-BJRHmU_CSNP4/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb0Q3eKEWGHq2BK_gbRPv-WNTj6OdVzdxX6lsFicu_SFHHzOu4zIqpXgk1-euDgRIfC-31kd6DcS56BngXENDLKoUdoRW6mGTfSQ5zXOIWr_z-QvV33az2d9a2JRdKQF-BJRHmU_CSNP4/s1600/DSC_0002.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a>One of my favorite expressions is "I'd rather poke my eye out than (fill in the blank).<br />
Today I discovered that's not entirely true.<br />
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I have this adorable little pair of Gingher snips, with pink patterned handles. When I sew, I wear them around my neck on a piece of elastic. That way I always have them when I need them. I try to take them off whenever I leave my studio, but then I have to run to the kitchen to thaw supper, or go flip the laundry, or take some packages out to the mailbox. <br />
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I've had visions of tumbling down the stairs, with those adorable pink handles sticking out of my stomach. There have been close calls where Maizie rushes to me for a big hug, then pulls away because she was nearly stabbed by the scissors still around my neck.<br />
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I didn't expect to find myself explaining to a health care professional that I was hit in the eye by a little pair of scissors attached to elastic that slingshot into my eye when I stood up because I had accidentally knelt on them while checking the number on a paint can in the basement because my husband had called from the Home Depot to check if he was buying the right Ultra White Semi Gloss latex paint.<br />
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The scissors were in their leather sheath, and it was the handles that hit me, not the pointy end. It was the hardest I've ever been hit. I stood for a few minutes getting my balance and trying to get my eye to focus. It did, and I could still see so I got out of the basement, and immediately called David to confirm that we already had enough Ultra White Semi Gloss latex paint in the basement. He didn't need to buy more. <br />
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When I got off the phone, I wiped my eye and saw a bit of blood. Have I mentioned that I've been binge watching 'The Walking Dead'? I imagined my eye dripping from the socket, complete with squelching sound effects. I finally made it to the bathroom, happily to find that my eye was not oozing down my cheek. It was red, though. Then I started thinking about my neighbor who had been caught in the eye with a bungee cord, and required surgery. It was the thought of having to be awake as someone sewed my eye back together that almost sent me over the edge. Have I mentioned that I have passed out on numerous occasions including a penicillin shot, blood test, and jamming my hand in a rototiller?<br />
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I put ice on my eye and called David again. "Can you come home as soon as you can. I hurt my eye kind of bad, in the basement". I purposely omitted the story of the sling shooting scissors because in the amount of time it would take me to explain the accident, he could have driven here. The vague 'basement' description allowed David to imagine other, more legitimate, less ridiculous scenarios.<br />
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When he arrived home to find me not passed out, and without an eye dangling on my cheek, he was relieved. He drove me to the emergency clinic. I had a fifteen minute drive to angst over how embarrassing telling my story would be. I also managed to make time to worry about eye surgery.<br />
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The clinic visit went much better than I hoped. There was another wave of panic when they asked me to read an eye chart. I did the good eye first, than the poked one. As I closed the good eye and stared at the chart, I laughed a little hysterically. The vision in the poked eye seemed clearer than the good one.<br />
I did have a few 'you did what?!'s to answer, but I survived. My cornea is scratched but should be fine in a few days with eye drops. It's not like I was hit by a 3' runaway construction saw blade while walking down the sidewalk in Manhattan.<br />
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Now that's a story I'd like to write.<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-76326160111375526182014-07-08T15:13:00.004-04:002014-07-08T15:19:53.663-04:00Apprentice Postions Now Open<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVMr7MYd3iJ4T8u0BUT5_2uuNYIwcstub7Nl8phMRH-ml_X3I0tsp7nCkqSuKDJJy4OYM8_2A7nRqmKH-MG1cHJZjzN7YicLxigstyKonGyr0yTKlorGq680NOr45N9DtwKeKoIhklO8/s1600/DSC_0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVMr7MYd3iJ4T8u0BUT5_2uuNYIwcstub7Nl8phMRH-ml_X3I0tsp7nCkqSuKDJJy4OYM8_2A7nRqmKH-MG1cHJZjzN7YicLxigstyKonGyr0yTKlorGq680NOr45N9DtwKeKoIhklO8/s1600/DSC_0034.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a>A few months ago, during my busy April (who knew?!), I hired a 'sewing mom' to help me for a few hours a week. There was training to be done, which took time from me working, but the experiment was successful. As I gear up for the Halloween season, which from sales the first week in July, has begun, I will again use another set of hands to help keep my sanity.<br />
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I gave up on the mice being useful after I discovered they had chewed a giant hole in the dress I was planning on wearing to a party last weekend. I think it was retribution for my tear down of their pantry amusement park.<br />
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So why not use another set of hands that are always close? I did have to bring a stool into the studio so that she could reach the cutting table, but the 'pros' of training someone from scratch to work the way I want her to outweighs the 'cons'. Plus, she works for Twizzlers.<br />
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I thought I would start my daughter with something easy for her first project. Naturally I chose a 1940's vintage dress with darts and a back zipper. Don't worry, I won't make her put in the zipper by herself. Maybe.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_LUK6V5kHPeJKM9NnZ2JGmi1DP0FCKMEBYQkV2RhWFR3XRmQ6oWIqlRShCm6OXPZWMaaXREmo9j_myCvDL-InHh6v_qVyZpqQe-vDQNorClDeNApXw1hPOUOvfrs7Va0wHhIJEUsbJI/s1600/DSC_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5_LUK6V5kHPeJKM9NnZ2JGmi1DP0FCKMEBYQkV2RhWFR3XRmQ6oWIqlRShCm6OXPZWMaaXREmo9j_myCvDL-InHh6v_qVyZpqQe-vDQNorClDeNApXw1hPOUOvfrs7Va0wHhIJEUsbJI/s1600/DSC_0033.jpg" height="320" width="214" /></a>Today we cut out the bodice. I drew out the pieces on the fabric and she followed along with her scissors. That's where we ran into our first snag. The scissors that were her size were only good at cutting dresses for paper dolls. I switched her to my smallest pair of ginghers and let her test run them. Surprise! She liked the $25 pair better than the $1.99 ones. They were a bit heavy for her, but I will be placing an emergency Wawak Sewing Supply order later today to get a pair that will work for her.<br />
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We worked for an hour. When she said she was getting tired, I gave her a bin to put her project in and we cleaned up the work table.We didn't yell at each other. There were no tears. She can't wait to do it again tomorrow.<br />
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Me, too.<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-80454353905105175582014-07-02T13:32:00.000-04:002014-07-02T13:32:49.217-04:00Owning ItWe have been in this house for almost 3 years now. I knew it was an enormous, some might say 'insane' project to take on. I prepared myself that is was going to be challenging. Gut the dining room down to the floor joists? Sure. Herds of mice running amuck? Whatever. I finally lost it, though.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTr2vesw0SbnvAJhMd6VEmpfOUhx7UoUN-n-JEir7U1JL1aW56sQmoaZVpA_sfuZhVkgNvdxA-lsnV-4ftrXGI9PJIn-xfa-rS3IxPkIWPWDhdrrS9j7sYtQEMFMSFN3B10-1_SDjmmSg/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTr2vesw0SbnvAJhMd6VEmpfOUhx7UoUN-n-JEir7U1JL1aW56sQmoaZVpA_sfuZhVkgNvdxA-lsnV-4ftrXGI9PJIn-xfa-rS3IxPkIWPWDhdrrS9j7sYtQEMFMSFN3B10-1_SDjmmSg/s1600/DSC_0002.jpg" height="400" width="306" /></a>The kitchen renovation has been put on hold after the keeping room cost more than expected. I'm still very glad we did it. That room was a giant waste of real estate on the first floor. Being able to use it for the first time in 3 years has been amazing. But we always want more, don't we?<br />
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I do. I just want a freaking closet. The lack of closets sent me over the edge. After we removed the half bath from the kitchen, that empty nook of ancient bare drywall became the junk catch all, pantry, place to feed the dog. It was quickly invaded by the mice. They scoffed at my attempts to reclaim it. I gave up.<br />
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The first thing I do in times of stress is clean. I mean really clean. I was prowling the house looking for a battle to pick. There were so many to choose from, I stalled out. Instead of cleaning I was wandering aimlessly, getting more stressed with every room I went through. Finally I ended up back in the kitchen, where the vacuum cleaner lay capsized in the corner, covered by a storm of reusable shopping bags. The storage shelves were a rodent amusement park, after hours, covered in the refuse of their fun.<br />
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That was it. The sight of the vacuum cleaner listing there sent me over the edge. As God as my witness, I will never be without a kitchen closet again. I'm the one with opposable thumbs after all. I emptied everything out. The irony here is that wanting to clean, I completely trashed the rest of the kitchen. It didn't matter. I was going all in. <br />
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The best part of never ending projects on your house, is that when you absolutely positively have to paint something right NOW, you have the supplies to do it. I primed and painted the moldy old drywall. It was a white latex miracle. With the help of a Mr. Clean Miracle Eraser, I scrubbed the rust stains off the ancient linoleum. Suddenly the space wasn't derelict.<br />
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I will be living with this kitchen for awhile, so I'm going to live in it like I mean it. No more throwing things wherever because 'someday' the kitchen is going to be redone. I emptied every cabinet in the kitchen to decide what I needed to keep, and where it should be stored.<br />
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Most importantly I hung more of my things on the walls, my way of staking out territory. If my stuff is hanging here, then it must be my home.<br />
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And just so I don't have to look at that damn vacuum cleaner, there is a nice set of curtains on my new closet.<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-42053392120152015912014-06-26T21:21:00.000-04:002014-06-26T21:21:22.848-04:00Some of My Favorite Things.Puppets.<br />
Musicals.<br />
End of the World/Apocalypse/Doomsday/ Zombie movies.<br />
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That's right. Puppets singing about the end of the world. Go ahead. Watch it again. You know you want to.<br />
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My sister got Maizie and I hooked on this blog a few months ago. It's puppets, it's perfect for seven year olds. Sort of. Sometimes I have to explain a lot. Sometimes I have to leap in front of the computer screen, hoping I can smack the space bar fast enough to pause it before I have to explain something that I'd rather wait a few years to explain.<br />
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Happily this blog was a great opportunity to share important family values with my daughter. She didn't understand why people were stealing medicine and food from each other after doomsday. I was able to teach her about the complicated transportation by which we receive our goods, and the importance of stock piling toilet paper and Twizzlers. That led to a discussion on how to protect her Twizzlers from an advancing hoard of the undead. It got a little complicated when I had to point out that with our chickens and chainsaw, we do qualify as hillbillies, but that's ok because we've got the skills to fortify our perimeter and provide our own food…just not Twizzlers.<br />
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You better go back and watch it again right now, just in case aliens land tonight and take down the power grid.LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-50828510352110651932014-05-16T17:30:00.002-04:002014-05-16T17:30:21.983-04:00Primp My Ride<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjaJj_cie498NSTCvJEQY3GhJz7RSs_1xg0IdoAF0adFo11ikaWOPndNhIvFRRY8Zio6SAEuxfpHm8bugT9wbClrI_LAry5D6GmmRhpQEYx9_7ZRiluZ6FLazLJ0nKv7czgJZVDxA2YMk/s1600/DSC_0055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjaJj_cie498NSTCvJEQY3GhJz7RSs_1xg0IdoAF0adFo11ikaWOPndNhIvFRRY8Zio6SAEuxfpHm8bugT9wbClrI_LAry5D6GmmRhpQEYx9_7ZRiluZ6FLazLJ0nKv7czgJZVDxA2YMk/s1600/DSC_0055.jpg" height="400" width="267" /></a>This is why I drive a mini van. What's your excuse?<br />
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I drive a mini van.<br />
I am not a soccer mom. Do not call me a soccer mom.<br />
I do need space to haul around things, but not a sweaty soccer team.<br />
Today I hauled around sweaty tutus.<br />
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I spent Mother's day weekend like this,<br />
"Where are my shoes?"<br />
"Are you done with that yet?"<br />
"These aren't my tights!"<br />
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No, that wasn't from my kid. That was from the children of 40 other moms.<br />
Saturday and Sunday were dress rehearsals for the Dance Review I am designing for the Loomis Chaffee School.<br />
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The similarities between parenting and costuming are eery. I don't think the similarity between pay and hours is a co incidence either.LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-77749811323871976132014-04-30T20:20:00.000-04:002014-04-30T20:20:15.983-04:00symbiMouses<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKMVhujhGwgvWUZ7u5APYVZ_IkXh-aJl74MSjxcdvgYwEJoBbuKoFoop7J1T84YEHu__2x3oLglXrcBIGk2DmbttDRLks3BNFAtcz0A653Thlg5gb-EYTozhY7DmK6znaL3v56TisRgAc/s1600/RunnerGodmother.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKMVhujhGwgvWUZ7u5APYVZ_IkXh-aJl74MSjxcdvgYwEJoBbuKoFoop7J1T84YEHu__2x3oLglXrcBIGk2DmbttDRLks3BNFAtcz0A653Thlg5gb-EYTozhY7DmK6znaL3v56TisRgAc/s1600/RunnerGodmother.jpg" height="640" width="379" /></a><br />
Symbiosis-The relationship between two different kinds of living things that live together and depend on each other.<br />
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My relationship with Disney is technically more parasitic than symbiotic, but it didn't make a very good title. <br />
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Last year, I was asked if I could make a short cape for a running costume. I didn't understand why anyone would wear a costume to a marathon, but why should that stand in the way of a sale. I didn't bother to list it for sale on my website, though.<br />
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Weeks pass, and more inquiries about a short cape for running. Then my neighbor asked if I could make a tutu. My first thought was that it was for her two year old daughter, until she said she needed it for a race she was running. Had the whole world gone bananas?<br />
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I did what any sane person would do. I got onto the inter web machine and looked up marathon running and costumes. And promptly started selling short capes marketed to runners. I should have known that my sales were Disney related. When you run in the Walt Disney World Marathon, you certainly don't do it in Adidas.<br />
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There were a few unexpected consequences of running in a <a href="https://www.etsy.com/listing/176334865/fairy-godmother-cape-waist-length-adult?ref=shop_home_active_7" target="_blank">Fairy Godmother For Hire</a> cape. I had several reports of swarms of children who thought that the real Fairy Godmother had just finished the race.<br />
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So here is a big thanks to Mickey for giving people a chance besides Halloween to play dress up. And an even bigger thanks to the strong and beautiful ladies who are running in my costumes. <br />
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LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-43831406900814844002014-04-28T20:50:00.000-04:002014-04-28T20:50:12.457-04:00(Another) Moving Day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Don't expect much wit in this post. I've lost a few brain cells in the cloud of wood stain fumes that hung about the place for the past few weeks. At least I can enjoy the Oldey Timey goodness while I lounge about in a dull stupor.</div>
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After nearly two weeks of staining, and restaining we were satisfied with the results. Our contractor came out for a second color consultation, but it didn't seem to me that the new wood was getting closer to the old wood. The new boards had a a much lighter starting value than the 200 year old ones. I stopped thinking about the project in terms of 'stain'. I started thinking about color, and what I would do to match color. After that, the results we wanted started happening. We also have too thank our fabulous local hardware. You can take your slab of wood in, and the owner pops open a few cans of stain so you can see what you are really getting.</div>
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Doesn't Monty look comfortable relaxing on those freakishly wide chestnut and oak planks? They have a coat of tung oil to bring out their color. I discovered that if you walk into a WoodCraft store and ask for a gallon of tung oil, the sales clerk asks you, what I guess are some secret woodworker code questions. I did not pass. But I did get to keep the tung oil.<br />
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As pretentious as I think it is, I have started calling it the Keeping Room, mainly because it is so much more than a dining room. For now, it is the living and dining room. The next project is restoration of the other front room, which will become the living room. The 1800's train bench under the window will always stay in the Keeping Room though. It fits that wall like it was made to go there.<br />
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-76705161853124805172014-03-12T14:56:00.001-04:002014-03-12T14:57:22.902-04:00Wooden It Be LovelyThe seven year old walks into the construction zone for the first time in a few days. "Huh, it almost looks like a real room now". Damn critics.<br />
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The keeping room has been in some state of demolition/construction for 2 years. We're about 3 weeks until we can move into it now and the waiting is driving me mad. When we started, the idea of having a finished room was this crazy abstract idea. This week I find myself in there figuring out where the furniture will go and what oldey timey thing is going where on the walls. So verrryy close now.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Keeping Room--the first time we looked at the house.</td></tr>
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The carpenters finished up, mostly, last week. They need to come back to finish installing the door hardware (oldey timey, of course) and nail the floor down for real. David is sanding the floor and applying the linseed oil. We are also staining the woodwork. Edward brought his stain expert in to match the color and show us how the pros do it.<br />
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David and I were both very excited for their visit. I was curious to see how experts in colonial homes went about matching color on 200 year old boards. I had visions of lab coats and algebraic formulas, maybe a spectrometer. I didn't expect a couple guys sitting on the floor with stir sticks and 5 cans of Min Wax and Zars getting high on the fumes while slapping stain on the wall. It was clear they had been working together for years, and had their own system. They were having fun and the color was looking good.<br />
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There were no lab coats, and I don't even know what a spectrometer is for, but they reminded me of Aimee and I sorting bins of Christmas Carol costumes on the floor, the only fumes we were high on were coming from the children's socks we had been using in the show since 2002. Aimee and I had worked together for years, knew each other as well as we knew every costume piece in that show. It was clear that Edward and Kenny loved what they were doing, and enjoyed each other's company as much as I did working with Aimee.<br />
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Once they calmed down, sometimes Aimee and I would also break into hysteric laughing fits while trying to find Young Scrooge's glasses, they did come up with a good stain color for the new wood. The new wood gets a wash of the base stain color. The old wood gets another good cleaning. Once the new wood is all stained they come back to determine the next layer. Edward started talking about different painting techniques to blend the new wood with the old, throwing around terms like 'dry brushing' and 'stippling'. Just a minute old time experts, now you are in our territory. Welcome to Scenic Painting 101. I also fought back the urge to show him photos of all the clothes that I had painted dirt and sweat stains into for the winter musical.<br />
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Every day we make a bit more progress. We had friends visiting on Sunday and moved the dining room table back in, just so we didn't have to eat in the living room. For now, we make a little progress every day, counting down the number of meals left to spend balanced on the living room sofa.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Keeping Room-Last spring</td></tr>
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LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-64016783829307605092014-02-25T09:28:00.003-05:002014-02-25T09:30:08.565-05:00Game of Moles<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAIInghwDo5HPMW4PtAeIOq6IVlIEgYheWLsKSFZqVmwGC_uB2Cy2d0XlUsSVLT47hEb_e1yxGdeiSRgmnKoJD-uK-l52ZJwHvZGek3zfKWgdX1b0FLJSk2urCgGJuVJl36765_k57Rw/s1600/mole.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvAIInghwDo5HPMW4PtAeIOq6IVlIEgYheWLsKSFZqVmwGC_uB2Cy2d0XlUsSVLT47hEb_e1yxGdeiSRgmnKoJD-uK-l52ZJwHvZGek3zfKWgdX1b0FLJSk2urCgGJuVJl36765_k57Rw/s1600/mole.jpg" height="195" width="320" /></a>Winter had come and she needed to find a safe haven from the ice and snow. After a seemingly endless trek over a barren wasteland of stone, she found solace. Hidden at the base of an unfathomable fortress was the entrance to her salvation. Using her long clawed hands she dug into the structure. Not only did she find warmth, but a seemingly magical supply of food. The prizes were not without danger though, for the fortress was populated by giants.<br />
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The first time she encountered one, they let out a roar. She scurried for the nearest tunnel, her short tail twitching as she made her way to safety in the bowels of the fortress. She sat and cleaned her fur quaking while she worried about her situation. The giants had made a great noise, but they hadn't actually harmed her. Tomorrow, she would make the long journey for food again, despite the dangers.<br />
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Again she crossed paths with a giant, but again the killing blow never came. She became fearless, exploring the warm upper regions of the fortress, rich with food supplies. The giants now just watched as she made her rounds. Sometimes she heard "There's Molly again" as she made her rounds. Molly held dominion over all she could see.<br />
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She stopped at the watering hole one morning, looking forward to the feast awaiting in the furry four footed giant's bowl nearby. Something was wrong. There was no sign of the giants, and yet her fur was standing on edge. She paused at the edge of the water, waiting. All was quiet, she relaxed and paused to drink. Suddenly something hit her hard from the side, she slipped into the water, struggling. Trapped under the water, she stared into the eyes of one of her own kind. Her long snout gasped for air and found nothing but water. Her already dimmed sight went dimmer then faded to black.<br />
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Marvin stepped carefully back from the watering hole, watching the water logged body of the other mole floating on the surface. Triumphant, he stared at the bounty that surrounded him. He was King of the Moles.<br />
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**Any similarity between actual moles, living or dead is purely coincidental. And by that I mean it is pure coincidence that the mole living in our kitchen was found dead in the dog's water dish and the next day I saw another mole scurry across the kitchen. Maybe I should also mention we just watched Season 3 of Game of Thrones.LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-33874135944025872812014-02-07T09:23:00.002-05:002014-02-07T09:23:22.780-05:00Floor It!<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-nodnqMHwC1lGNx2QMdvf5hMBufZ9lKsfZYGeD0_Tx8OLGdw__P088F1DwbdSRK7Liz6Y_FvmfTgBTZcHJofrlo-Pmc3iOCAgu0MdoNiOZYV_zsFo4e0j3eF-hz_DCMSfb85BK-Q9pE/s1600/IMG_1748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI-nodnqMHwC1lGNx2QMdvf5hMBufZ9lKsfZYGeD0_Tx8OLGdw__P088F1DwbdSRK7Liz6Y_FvmfTgBTZcHJofrlo-Pmc3iOCAgu0MdoNiOZYV_zsFo4e0j3eF-hz_DCMSfb85BK-Q9pE/s1600/IMG_1748.jpg" height="320" width="238" /></a>Never mind the winter olympics. Around here the real sport is winter home renovations. Nothing gets the blood pumping like scraping 200 years of grime off of old oak and chestnut floor boards. Real men don't stop there. Now lets hose those boards down and give them a good scrub. Of course if it's worth doing once, it's worth doing twice. </div>
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If the board cleaning is like a luge run, the indoor work is like figure skating; precise, exacting, and artful. This is where the professionals come in. We cleaned the boards. They clamped splits, repaired holes and began the intricate process of laying them back down. Because many had rotten ends, or were unusable, the boards couldn't be laid in their original configuration. This took weeks of painstaking layout, followed by more repairs of holes.</div>
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For added excitement, wall work commenced. The window that looked out into the porch was removed. New paneling was created to match the original wood planking we uncovered in the demolition process. The new boards were planed and kerfed to match the existing boards.</div>
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New planks were installed on the staircase wall and on the new wall we created when we added the bathroom behind the stair wall. It was very exciting the day that all the plumbing behind that wall disappeared. (note plumbing in photo below)</div>
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David had found a vintage punched tin 'witches hat' light a few months ago. For Christmas, his family gave us two more. Now we just need one more to complete our set of four.</div>
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Yesterday was a gold medal day when the carpenters brought in the new fireplace facade. Installation won't start until next week, but just having it leaning it place changed the character of the whole room. When we first tore out the old fireplace surround, we thought about leaving it exposed. Our expert at Sunderland Period Homes, told us that the scale of the fireplace overwhelmed the room. Whatever doubt we had about that, cleared when we stand in the room now. The room elements are coming together. Do I dare yet even thinking of where the furniture will go?</div>
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-90904394233955500902014-01-14T09:06:00.003-05:002014-01-14T09:06:29.102-05:00Freeze Frame<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO69QlDGDMxY5sp-LM5LlIMHT82F2zUgbM8uX1Kt_Mdz4MSQedCP_cQjD7BEBGIqeY8gKv30Sn8horqUREgXitJKvyAXXlOBrITioaNZntU1zK4YHlhqxdCQj-07i2eQKfq6fCn74z9PY/s1600/DSC_0083.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO69QlDGDMxY5sp-LM5LlIMHT82F2zUgbM8uX1Kt_Mdz4MSQedCP_cQjD7BEBGIqeY8gKv30Sn8horqUREgXitJKvyAXXlOBrITioaNZntU1zK4YHlhqxdCQj-07i2eQKfq6fCn74z9PY/s400/DSC_0083.jpg" width="400" /></a>When I opened my shop, Fairy Godmother For Hire almost 4 years ago, I knew that the sewing was no problem. I knew my product was good. I had spent hours researching what was selling in children's dress up wear on Etsy, and no one was doing what I was. Most of all I knew that if I didn't have great photos, that none of that mattered. Even though the first round of photos were what I called 'disastrous', I pushed ahead. To make myself feel better I trolled Etsy for pictures that were worse than mine.<br />
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I knew lighting and background were important. I did test shots in the basement with fabric backgrounds. I bought clip lights and high wattage bulbs from the Home Despot, results 'meh'. My three year old model could be just as tricky as the light. I don't know how much money I invested in Twizzlers for bribes. I had a great idea to bring over some of her friends for a photo session. It was greek tragedy. Twizzlers didn't cut it. Popsicles saved the day. </div>
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With David's help I made a backdrop and started using our tiny sun porch for a photography studio. In warmer weather, I shot outside. When we moved, I had amazing grounds for backdrops. My dilemma is that few of the items that make Etsy's front page are shot outdoors. They've got white artsy backgrounds that rival magazine photography. In 2014 I want to see what my shop can really do, and getting the product shots right is is an important part of that.</div>
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Getting ready for Christmas, I had some new costumes to photograph. An initial shoot in the living room was dismal. The lighting was unusable. I decided to go with what I knew worked. My backdrop is good. My outdoor shots are good. I hooked my drop to the outside of the house, and hauled Maizie outside...no Twizzlers until after the shoot was done.</div>
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Let's set the scene. It's October. We're outside. Test shots with the lighting and the costumes on a dress form are terrific. I bring out Maizie in her adorable capes and organza skirts, she looks great against the drop. If only her teeth would stop chattering and she'd stop pulling her hands under her sleeves to get warm. Maybe she got a little cold, I did get great shots.</div>
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Christmas was taken care of, but my plans were to reshoot all my costumes for the new year. I didn't want to wait until the spring thaw to start photographing. I moped. Maybe I whined a bit.</div>
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In November, David surprised me on my birthday with a complete professional photo studio light and backdrop set. He followed up for Christmas with a series of photography books. We've done some initial tests with the setup, and I am very hopeful about my new shop pictures. Maizie's relieved that modeling won't mean frostbite anymore.</div>
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LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-84670609943556566112014-01-04T14:02:00.003-05:002014-01-04T14:02:50.989-05:00Coulda Shoulda, Didn't<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Last year I said that I could sell as much as I could sew on my Etsy shop. Then I was going to start sewing in January so I had stock to sell later. I said that with the same dedication as, 'I'm going to enter all my business/show receipts every day', or 'I'm going to run every day'. August rolled around and sales on my shop took an unprecedented upward spike. It was thrilling to have days where I had over $400 in sales. Thrilling yes, also frightening. Frightening, why frightening, what with all the stock I had made earlier in the year? Suddenly, I'm starring in my own Aesop's fable where the lazy grasshopper (or perhaps mouse) spends all his free time cavorting while the wiser insect or rodent spent the nice days collecting food for winter.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRX9-jBZ90e4GkRo7l5yKqSnYv-tMj7Iiw_UHkvs6u97_rMJCIwxs_4Vn6e4sUXxQ8vEYNFxcyQeoQDyXKimag5FVHgkj8BHmE5YdzSkHOu8qiiLvy83lnq5Epb49VY8Znza_czoJ5J4/s1600/ColonialFireplaceBefore.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPRX9-jBZ90e4GkRo7l5yKqSnYv-tMj7Iiw_UHkvs6u97_rMJCIwxs_4Vn6e4sUXxQ8vEYNFxcyQeoQDyXKimag5FVHgkj8BHmE5YdzSkHOu8qiiLvy83lnq5Epb49VY8Znza_czoJ5J4/s400/ColonialFireplaceBefore.jpg" width="400" /></a>But I wasn't really wasting time, really. I had to paint our bedroom first, yes, HAD TO. Last Christmas David hurt his back and couldn't get downstairs. His parents were visiting, so to keep him company we all hung out in the bedroom. I realized how horrible our bedroom was. We had never put it on the priority rehab list. We only slept there, who cared about mildew stained ceilings, brown wall paper and unpacked storage boxes.</div>
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After I painted, I had to make shades and valances. They looked so nice, I had to get things hung on the wall. Most importantly I discovered that waking up in a non-mold/stain encrusted room, made a huge difference in my well being. Having the bedroom haven made the rest of the house work in progress seem less an ordeal. Like that scene in 'Labyrinth' where Sarah wakes from a dream in her bedroom, only to open the bedroom door and discover she's in a trash heap.</div>
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After that project, I had several school shows to do, then there was gardening, then it was summer, and who really buys costumes in summer anyway? Evidently a lot of people, judging by my July and August sales.</div>
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Now I bid welcome to January, and Hello Halloween. This year I will not be the lazy insect or rodent in the fable. I've got a table full of capes waiting behind me, ready to be sewn...but I just need to finish this blog post, and I'm not quite done with the sketches for the musical, wait are there still receipts in my purse to deal with.....</div>
<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-69600730156508743862013-12-31T14:55:00.001-05:002013-12-31T14:55:38.351-05:00For Oldey Timey Lang's Syne<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is how we do Christmas photos at the Brightside. I suppose the only way we can out do it for next year is if we go Colonial to match the build date of the house. I'll have to start making petticoats and breeches, and find someone to do an oil painting or a wood carving.</div>
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I should be packing up Christmas decorations. I did manage to shovel out the studio. Visions of sugar plums have stopped dancing in my head. There's no room what with Fairy Godmother's plans for next year taking up every inch.</div>
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-36681026490089229612013-12-14T11:37:00.000-05:002013-12-16T12:06:50.033-05:00FrozenIt looks like this outside.<br />
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Inside, it sounds like Idina Menzel.<br />
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We saw the new Disney film Frozen at Thanksgiving. Maizie and I saw it again last night. I would go again right now if not for the snow storm. Maybe I'd even take my kid.<br />
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The first trailer we saw had me underwhelmed. The animation looked like a knock off of Rapunzel. It looked like there was an overload of sidekicks. Sitting in the theater waiting for it to begin, I was prepared to be disappointed. Then the notes of the Nordic chorus began and I was carried away. Well written, funny engaging score, great character development, and best of all, plot is NOT driven by a girl waiting for her prince to rescue her. In fact, the girl decks a prince, not to mention saves a hunky Swede and sacrifices herself for her sister. A 'children's' movie where the most important relationship in the film is not 'girl meets boy' but 'family ties'. Pinch me, I'm dreaming.<br />
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Maizie is in the living room right now, dressed in last year's Halloween costume, blue and white sparkly princess dress belting out Let It Go, while jumping around on a step stool. While finishing Christmas presents for other people's kids, I've been designing out in my head an Elsa dress and cape for her for Christmas. When this Cinderella finishes all the sewing for Fairygodmother For Hire, she's getting busy on her own little girl's present.<br />
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I do have to note a Disney marketing fail. In the film there is a great shot of Elsa stamping on the ice with her newly created incredibly fabulous Ice Queen pumps. I would jam my bunioned feet into a shoe that pretty. I proceeded to the Disney Store to purchase their version to go with the as yet, unstarted costume I will probably be sewing on Christmas Eve. I put 'Elsa shoe' into their search box. Do you know what comes up? A mukluk. Seriously. One of the most amazing costume changes in Disney history and the best they can do is a tan boot with some embroidery?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MDeRkX8K7AHXgTpqwCLQe8SiQTJM-6shi9TQ7x7UD3ySgjr1VJA4C71E7f6L-CPfXxdJX8254Fsu_KXi2JG5x4IjAUnBzq7heWgLKwAXRBm8XQ0XafhcLlWkm8KnoHimSIL50g5Mdi8/s1600/DSC_0125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7MDeRkX8K7AHXgTpqwCLQe8SiQTJM-6shi9TQ7x7UD3ySgjr1VJA4C71E7f6L-CPfXxdJX8254Fsu_KXi2JG5x4IjAUnBzq7heWgLKwAXRBm8XQ0XafhcLlWkm8KnoHimSIL50g5Mdi8/s320/DSC_0125.jpg" width="214" /></a>Thank goodness for 15 years of taking tan shoes and making them white and sparkly for Hartford Stage's A Christmas Carol. Once this blizzard is over, I'm headed out to Payless to buy a pair of white heels. With some acrylic paint, glitter, and the leftover white crystal net from Maizie's Halloween costume, I'll make those fabulous shoes...Probably at midnight on Christmas eve, after I get done throwing glitter on an organza cape. Warning, Costume Friends, I will be gluing that crap on. Don't judge, just go with the magic of Christmas, and MagnaTac.LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-26617381286116465472013-12-13T09:13:00.000-05:002013-12-13T09:13:41.046-05:00Enter Stage Left<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKpaM3QYeIOmSsSfA3bnT6EIW78EicjB4gGUkOsB_wl2ZwCyQDItab_F54DGQd1HVm9R54B_d8t-lkw-p73PhbJxDEOLbVrkNaoZlibBCDq4MIZbITnPtX9o4AZ7xXfsp-CK86GvNmyo/s1600/86.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKpaM3QYeIOmSsSfA3bnT6EIW78EicjB4gGUkOsB_wl2ZwCyQDItab_F54DGQd1HVm9R54B_d8t-lkw-p73PhbJxDEOLbVrkNaoZlibBCDq4MIZbITnPtX9o4AZ7xXfsp-CK86GvNmyo/s320/86.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finding that iconic sweater was like finding the Holy Grail<br />
on Ebay. </td></tr>
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Remember that thing how I left professional theatre behind? I'm back. It was an accident, I swear it wasn't my fault. Dear friend and Broadway designer, watch out Alejo Vietti I am dropping your name, asked me to be his design associate on a new play at Theaterworks in Hartford. I say 'asked' but he always makes it hard to say no to him. A set of one act plays that looks at the kids from the Christmas specials and movies I grew up with, and shows what happened when they grew up...and walked in to a bar on Christmas Eve. Hermey the out of the closest gay Dentist Elf? Trashy Cindy Lou? How could I refuse?<br />
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A few weeks later I walked back into work at a professional theater. I stepped into the house, where scenery and lighting were going like gangbusters. My throat tightened a bit, a moment of disorientation and doubt that I could do this. Then I was struck by how much this intimate little theatre reminded me of my beginnnings, ironically also on a Christmas show.<br />
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In college, I worked on my first Christmas Carol at Totempole Playhouse in Pennsylvania. It was small, had a big heart and scores of staff and artists who were dedicated to their craft...and each other. Flashback to me sweeping the stage, and the artistic director coming up to me, and thanking me for working on the show. My very young head almost exploded.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxjJ9_ATg17Y7oAP7OT5sp-YoRgWsSH580VykgCabIz4YshS8eVc_gUUZnkCw7iOg5wucg4YN0vPPIFtxoRTywFhNMVQLEpNZnn5A0a5KVl9jeAGEPyMu3gio9W1QIzr7uy7wfFOrNwI/s1600/85.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="273" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxjJ9_ATg17Y7oAP7OT5sp-YoRgWsSH580VykgCabIz4YshS8eVc_gUUZnkCw7iOg5wucg4YN0vPPIFtxoRTywFhNMVQLEpNZnn5A0a5KVl9jeAGEPyMu3gio9W1QIzr7uy7wfFOrNwI/s320/85.jpg" width="320" /></a>Flashforward to Theaterworks, and the moment I step in the joint, people are introducing themselves, the technical director is offering me all the labor I need to unload my minivan of costumes. I can do this. Even more freakish, I walked into a production meeting and asked for a petty cash check. At the end of the meeting they handed me a check, with a smile. And there lies the key to the place. Everyone was always smiling, albeit often maniacally, but down right cheerful.<br />
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I said they were small, right. I knew they were small. The twelve people who work there do double, triple duty. I didn't realize how small until the first preview when I went to get a drink before the show. The wardrobe supervisor greeted me from behind the bar, and asked me what I would like. I really did almost fall over.<br />
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<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/15/nyregion/a-review-of-christmas-on-the-rocks-at-theaterworks-in-hartford.html?smid=fb-share&_r=0" target="_blank">Even better, read what the New York Times says about Christmas On The Rocks.</a><br />
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LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-49933638026797856202013-12-07T14:52:00.000-05:002013-12-07T14:52:48.196-05:00Then The Floor Dropped Out "Well, there's your problem, M'am".<br />
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The crew from Sunderland Period Homes started work last week. This is how it started. David had removed the 'modern' 1940's floor, exposing the original oak floor. Oak was not commonly used as flooring in 1780. We were just happy to find the original planks.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBsZqIkypSmyQLQXxQhtm8TrN7CHGk2JDXqHjqEL2oJiQEIUt_7Su-BHx3RpDyNql19C9w4w3g4FF9lmh95nFIug7LnC8lO6BG6j-vNSVBuGQoGSar5MJgIdjlrUX3ApcqU76NqMO-34/s1600/DSC_0043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtBsZqIkypSmyQLQXxQhtm8TrN7CHGk2JDXqHjqEL2oJiQEIUt_7Su-BHx3RpDyNql19C9w4w3g4FF9lmh95nFIug7LnC8lO6BG6j-vNSVBuGQoGSar5MJgIdjlrUX3ApcqU76NqMO-34/s640/DSC_0043.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The dining room, or Keeping Room as it was called when the house was built, had the most significantly sloped floor in the house. Finding a place to put a table required a handful of shims, great for skate board jumping, though. We removed a wall addition at one end, and the badly damaged plaster ceiling was removed when we added electrical to the space. We just wanted to get it livable, but the discovery of the original wall planking changed our goals. The renovation of this room is our most significant yet, and we went for experts in the Oldey Timey to get us through it.</div>
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The first part of the process is to get a level floor, meaning it must be completely removed. They took up the oak floor, revealing the slit work, planks that were laid across the support beams before the floor was put down. Yes, that is a real word. In the photo below you can see the piles of dirt on this layer of wood. Even more surprising than the oak, this under layer was chestnut. That's about $2,500 of old wood laying there. The carpenters asked if we wanted to reuse it as the subfloor or replace it with particle board. What to do? Take old pretty wood and cover it up, or salvage and use in the kitchen remodel? Do the math.</div>
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With the chestnut gone, the post and beam construction of the house is visible. It's a bit like looking at someone you love, who has had his scalp removed so you can look at the brain. <br />
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Maybe it's not that gross.<br />
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But it is a bit disturbing to see everything that's holding your home up, hopefully. The carpenters gave our house a clean bill of health, and were even surprised (pleasantly) at the condition below. Getting the beams to a level point across the span of the room is the next step.<br />
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They've begun the process of chiseling out the original joints and dropping the beams into the posts.</div>
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The photo below is a straight down shot of the beams, into the basement.</div>
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That's right, my house is built from giant Lincoln Logs.</div>
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<br />LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1794637989957816996.post-83015560745298435492013-11-21T09:16:00.000-05:002013-11-21T09:37:36.978-05:00Costumer To LIttle DreamersThat's not entirely true.<br />
It is the tag line under my shop name on Etsy, but it turns out that little girls aren't the only ones who need a Fairy Godmother, or a Fairy Godmother costume. Very few of my Halloween sales were for pint size princesses, but thanks to me there were quite a few very well dressed Fairy Grand Mothers this year. Turns out little girls don't lose their love of pretty clothes and playing dress up, just because they have little girls of their own.<br />
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This lovely Southern lady is one of my favorites, as she charmed her ten grandchildren, a very glamorous Fairy Godmother, indeed.<br />
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Pardon me a moment while I am a little wicked. I had over a hundred lovely customers...and only one who was not so. After receiving her costume she wrote to tell me how disappointed she was, and attached a photo of Disney Land's Fairy Godmother. "This is how the Fairy Godmother's cape is supposed to look". I clicked my heels together three times (oops wrong movie reference) and let sweet song birds help me compose a lovely reply.<br />
"In your photo, Fairygodmother is wearing a floor length dress, with a short shoulder length cape". My helper mice sat on my fingers to keep me from typing, "DOES THIS PICTURE LOOK ANYTHING AT ALL LIKE THE PHOTOS ON MY LISTING?" They waited until I simmered down, then let me type that I was sorry she was disappointed. I offered to refund her money. Alright, I did also point out (very politely) that her photo was not at all what my listing showed or described. Funny thing, she never did return the cape.<br />
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I do owe some thanks to Disney for my sales record. It wasn't until I noticed that many of my September orders had nearly the same due date, that I did a little sleuthing. I had no idea the Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween so early, but I was very thankful for the ladies who also wanted to dress for the event.<br />
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I also learned a little about market research. Here is my summary. If it sells, make more. When early on I had requests for a Fairy Godmother cape for grown ups, I scoffed. Until I did start offering one, and it sold like magic. Unfortunately, I forgot that lesson when I was asked if I would make a skirt to go with it. It took me a few weeks before I slapped myself, and got to work on skirts. That seemed to help, because next I added more color choices, and a waist length version. Then I realized that I was discriminating against other magical care givers. Merriweather from Sleeping Beauty came next. Flora and Fauna will make their debuts next year.<br />
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I am also changing that tag line on my shop.<br />
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<a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/FairyGodmother4Hire?ref=si_shop" target="_blank">Fairy Godmother For Hire</a><br />
Costumer to Dreamers of All Ages<br />
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LisaBBhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00729673750443675299noreply@blogger.com0