You had me at Decapitated Bunny

Happy Halloween!

I spent the day in the basement, chugging lattes and churning out 2 costumes. This morning I got a call to substitute in a classroom. I had already waived the chance to volunteer for someone else on the 31st, but declined that offer weeks ago, knowing full well my carpet would be stuck with pins and my machines whirring up a storm today.

Who could resist this?

It had to become a lab coat for a crazed veterinarian. I took measurements but still it was Huge. What the . ..? (Better to wear every year hence, I say. I think it may even fit me.)

We've been having Alice in Wonderland moments. The Veterinarian's trying-on moment was Quite the Opposite of the younger brother, whose jumpsuit was lying on the couch this morning. After his fitting, everyone else in the room commented how it looked so big lying there, they didn't believe it would fit him - but there he was, dressed in a perfectly fitted blue fuzzy jumpsuit.

Earlier in the day, I sewed careful, even, secured, seams, pressed, with top stitching. The works. By the afternoon, it was all fusible web and safety pins. *sigh* The younger one went as Squirtle and I am happy he didn't notice he didn't have a tail. It's days like today I am forced to remember to put things in perspective. And remembered that it is several times a day that my kids don't even need a clothing change to pretend they are someone or somewhere else. The accessories can help cement the trip for others though.

I do love making costumes, but it is beyond me to actually get them done before Halloween. I would be happy with having them finished on the 30th. But as long as I can remember having kids, it has been a seat-of-the-pants kind of thing.
And here I was Today, thinking about all the costumes my parents helped me with. I remember clearly a red hooded windbreaker becoming a little devil outfit complete with a wood pitchfork my dad made for me. And the smell of the burnt cork used another year to blacken around my eyes when I was a ghost. Once, I was the Pocket Lady. I am not sure what was up with that. I do remember lots of pockets (duh) on my shirt and I stuffed them, curiosity cabinet like, with tiny plastic figures and other bits and bobs from the house.
Tonight, my little gremlins are off collecting their loot, I'll post pictures tomorrow. I am home playing crazy housewife - vacuuming and waiting for kiddies. I have glow sticks, thanks to the Shingled One, and gummy eyeballs, something I won't eat. OK, I've already had one. I didn't think I would be tempted, because basically, they looked gross. But now sadly I know they taste like lemony marshmallows... I am going to bestow handfuls on the next unsuspecting kids. Kids. I use that term loosely around here. The last, ahem, young ladies that came to the door were fully developed and without costume. So I razzed them a bit and they told me they were "Roca Girls 'cause they are urban." I think I am becoming more old-fashioned each year.

Along the lines of not-quite-a-costume, back in the day when The Smoking One and I lived in TN, I think we saw our Best Ever Sort of A Costume. A little guy came to the door. He must have been 3 or 4, and written across his forehead in marker was Simba with the "s" all backward you better believe it. And you better also believe it, he was Simba! He was strutted back down the steps so proudly while the SO and I smirked.
Nothing so charming tonight. Bah humbug.

Hello Again

I am going to trust that you all will still love me even though I don't have anything much to go on about.
Trust me, I am not hiding anything.
My latest hours have been spent sewing, cleaning, or thinking about sewing or cleaning.
And now I have 10 minutes before my work day starts and I head downstairs.
Along the lines of cleaning, I did manage to replace the light fixture on the kitchen fan last week. We've lived with the old one for too long. One receptacle keep fizzing out the light bulbs, and would make a disconcerting crackling sound. Plus the whole thing just cast nasty light. This is the second attempt at replacement. This time around, the fixture also didn't fit. No grumbling here! Voila! My Swiss Army knife and a basic knowledge of leverage to the rescue! I crimped it all around so it would fit snugly into the fixture. And some green bulbs and yea! a bright kitchen. Now for the cleaning part . . .
Also, along the green lines, I have signed up for catalog choice. As much as I love to peruse catalogs, they do tend to pile up and it's not like I order anything anyway. And with Christmas right around the corner, my mailbox is only going to get more helpings of this planet destroying activity. So far I have eliminated 5 catalogs from my diet. Today was a recycling day, so I wasn't able to have my customer # on hand. It takes 10 weeks to go into effect, but then you can report them for sending you something you've opted out on. If you want to do that. I think I'll wait on telling my mother in law about that site. She shares her catalogs with me, so I can still use hers for inspiration and couch potato reading.
Uh, oh, it's past 9, I'd better be on my way. xo

I see you are not ready to Talk.

I bet you were tired of seeing dinner on this page. Now you can read about my possessed phone.
I am serious.
Not kidding.
It constantly is dialing "9" today. Randomly. And locking out other commands. I have unplugged the battery, s'rsly.
I tried to take a video of it auto-dialing, but it wouldn't do it when the camera was on. When the camera isn't on, I plug back in the battery and it reads "Please...wait..." And then it dials 9.
It first happened when I was on the phone today - I thought I had accidentally hit the "9" key - but it wouldn't stop beeping the "9" tone. I returned it to the cradle and waited. Now, it will just sit there all innocentlike and when I push Talk, it reads "9". then 999. then 999999 then the whole LCD screen just fills up with 9s. It is freaking me out. And now it's sitting next to me all dismemebered and looking sad. Or is it angry? I hope it isn't angry.
I cleaned its buttons out with a toothbrush AND a toothpick. It's sparklin'. Hmmm. I rly hope it isn't angry.