November 13, 2007

Constance Shorewood Yolanda Twatt Catfirth Wadbister
Just odds and ends to finish up here:

What's left:
finish sewing in sleeve
darn in a million ends
reinforce buttonholes
buy and attach buttons
Steam the hell out it.

Here's a closer view of the collar:


I might wish I had made it more generous, but I'll have to decide after the steam the hell out of it step. If it wants to stand up, thus exposing the wrong side to scrutiny, I'll probably redo it. If it lies down and plays nice, I'll keep it as is.

The naming:
It sounds like Shorewood is the preferred choice by the majority, with Constance running a strong second. The other women's names were never seriously in the running; I was just playing with the alphabet after my bedtime.

But I think Constance Shorewood sounds like the name of a soap-opera character. Maybe she once did a stint as a pole dancer in a boobie bar, 20 years ago, under the name Yolanda Twatt. But since then, she's married up in the world, is active in the Important Ladies Who Lunch League in her fictional city, and looks elegant on the arm of her oh-so-important husband, Charles Shorewood, MD. But then, she receives a message from someone who knew her back in the day, who has a photo of her at her old place of employment, and wants $50 grand to keep quiet. How far will Constance go to protect her reputation and standing in the community? Tune in tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I've had lots of other bloggy ideas running through my brain, but they all leave when I sit down to type.

On Saturday I went to see The Wallflowers in Milwaukee with my neighbor A.P. We had a great time. (You can see A.P. modeling the Autumn Walk Scarf over at TGB.) It was one of those kind of concerts that just seems magical. The band played forever. The encore was as long as the main set. That was my birthday present to myself.

Mr SABLE left on Sunday for a work trip to NJ, leaving me to figure out how to get both kids to school in the morning, get Owen to his mandatory band concert tomorrow night (after The Little Emperor is supposed to be on his way to bed), attend both parent-teacher meetings, while providing proper childcare for the young 'uns, and generally just muddling through my week. Not even getting to the birthday issue, which isn't that much of a big deal. It can shift around as needed.

My folks phoned earlier and my dad asked, as he's been doing since I can remember, how it feels to be (fill in the blank). This year it's 46. Chatted with my mom a while and had a good laugh or two.

My folks are at my grandmother's house now, overseeing the removal of most of her stuff to be auctioned off at the end of the month. My mom said it was quite a spectator event for the neighborhood as the stuff went out to the trucks. Yes, plural. It took a fleet of trucks to do it. Read all about it and go buy stuff if you're in the area.

Last night my boys and I were driving past the Culvers on the beltline in Madison, and as usual, they were scoping out the Flavor of the Day. (Culvers is a fast food chain, with a different frozen custard flavor each day.) Owen reads aloud, "Cinnamon Bun" and we both burst out laughing. If you don't get the joke, listen to this, especially pay attention at time 4:31 on clip.