STILL Cleaning Out: The Vase is Familiar

I've been hampered in my cleaning efforts for the past few weeks due to plantar fasciitis (pronounced "plant-er fash-ee-i-tis").  Or, for people in the know "sore heel syndrome."  How do you know if you're in the know?  Well, you are now, because I just told you!  Anyway, it hurts when I walk and there isn't a doo-wap* thing I can do about it.  Oh, I got advice from my doctor.  No going barefoot.  Shoes with high heels are best.  (The only shoes I have with a heel are my party shoes!)  Prognosis:  Whenever it's over, it won't hurt anymore.  Huh.  And he gets paid for that!

For a few days, I still had boxes from the shed that I was sorting through.  So I sat on the couch and, during old episodes of Hart to Hart, Hawaii Five-O and Gunsmoke, I sorted through the last several boxes.  They were mostly decorative items.  I put some starch in my spine and even weeded out some of the Precious Moments figurines.  After three or four boxes, I realized that there were a lot of vases.  Not big, fancy heirloom pieces.  Just regular vases sized from one bud vase through some for a half-dozen flowers up to a couple for two dozen roses.  (Not that I've ever received two dozen roses, but you never know!)

It's ironic really.  A couple of years ago--I think it was for my birthday--a dear friend of mine gave me a rose.  Just a single rose, but I was touched.  When I got home, I looked for a vase.  I found the little bud vase.  I found a big bouquet vase.  Nothing for a single rose.  So I improvised.  I used a champagne flute.  Why not?  I rarely get champagne.  Might as well use it for something!  I brought the flute with it's single, perfect rose up to my room.  Where it sat.  And dried out.  I couldn't have dried it more perfectly if I tried.  (What does that say about the aridness of my room??)  For a while I pondered what to do with it.  I considered a shadow box.  Then, a few months ago, the choice was taken from me.  ~Sigh~  If you know me at all and pay attention to most of my subject matter, I'm sure you can guess what happened.  A certain copper-striped cat clambered over the shih tzu* behind my little frig and got hold of the dried rose.  Ripped it to shreds and ate half of it.  She didn't touch the baby's breath, though.  She is, after all, a discriminating gourmand!

So, back to the vases.  In order to more expeditiously weed out some of the vases, I brought the ones I'd unpacked into the kitchen.  I retrieved another couple from the china cabinet.  I evaluated each piece by 1.  How old it was; 2.  Whether I bought it or it was a gift; and 3.  Did I like it.  When I was done, I was left with these keepers:

L-R:  A green vase just because I like the color; a cut-glass vase
 that was my grandmother's; a Princess House vase;
a bud vase I found at an arts & crafts fair; a blue and white vase
because I like the scenes; a crystal bud vase my daughter gave me;
and a clear, fat vase because it's good for a larger bouquet.

Not that I need to justify my choices, of course.  I'm just sayin'.

Tabitha trying to look cute after I scold her.
I think she looks more annoyed than
submissive, but what do I know?

Because Tabitha insists on helping me, two vases were broken.  Fortunately, I was going to put them in the give-away, but still, it's the principle of the thing.  She had no business trying to jump up on the boxes where I had set the vases.  It wasn't my fault that they were perched rather precariously on a rickety box.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it

So, what's left is going in the give-away:

These were all freebies, I think.

I'm still thinking about that milk-glass vase.  No special attachment to it, but...  No.  No, I must not second guess myself.  It stays in the give-away box.  Probably.

There are still boxes in the shed and, I'm reasonably sure, there will be another vase or two.  It seems to me I had bought a vase in Israel.  I'll keep that, of course.  There may be a ceramic plant pot from when Brittany was born and I got a lot of plants in cute little baby-themed pots.  I guess I'll find out soon enough.  

With my foot on the mend, and a couple of nice days ahead, I'll try to pull in the other boxes.  However, I need to get that backyard door overhang down.  It won't be easy!  You should see the bolts my father used.  And the support posts are affixed to cement shoes.  But that's what sledgehammers are for, right?

*I'm trying to clean up my language a bit.  Not that I'm particularly foul-mouthed, but anger-management advice is "No curse words!"  So, I'm trying.

Cleaning Out and Ugly Babies

I took advantage of the warmer weather and opened up the storage shed in the backyard.  I pulled about 10 boxes inside.  Today, since it was raining this morning, I went through three of them.  I found more pictures, of course.  We have always been a photographic family.  Some of us were even photogenic, too.  I found other miscellany as well.  Decorative items, mostly.  I had sorted a lot of this when I moved from my condo, um, hmm, 12 years ago?  I think that's how long it's been.  I did throw out a few things (broken), put a few in give-away (old, but in good shape) and kept a few things.  I found myself packing up some slightly burned candles in the "keep" box.  I caught myself, but now I can't remember if I threw them out or not.  I'll have to check.

What happens is, I get caught up in a TV show (in this case, the original Hawaii Five-O) and I'm not really paying attention to what my hands are doing.  Then I end up with garbage in the keep box and give-away in the garbage and...well, you get the idea.  Sometimes I end up with several garbage boxes!  Which is not altogether a bad thing, really.

Along with the TV distracting me, I also had Tabitha.  For whatever reason, she found my fake flowers fascinating.  No, she didn't play with the blossoms or leaves.  She rubbed all over them!  I know, they are "marking" when they do that, but she was purring, too!  Loudly.  Then she jumped in the box that I was sorting.  It was almost empty, but had a few pictures and frames remaining.  I found a piece of curling ribbon and tempted her out of the box with it.  Of course, a few minutes later I had to get up and take it away from her because she was eating it!

Okay, purposeful digression here.  You know how there is clumping cat litter now?  And you have to scoop out the, uh, waste to keep it clean?  Well, I always know when Tabitha has been eating things she shouldn't.  Her "deposits" are extremely colorful with a wide range of textures.  That cat must have a cast-iron digestive tract!  Curling ribbon, yarn, feathers, even potpourri!  Yecch!

Anyway, once I had the box empty, I gave it to her to play in.  Most of the time, the cats can't wait to their hands, er, paws on a box.  This time she ignored it.  I think she was peeved about the curling ribbon.

Well, once I sorted through the third box, Hawaii Five-O was over, so I cleaned up for the day.  Most of the pictures I found today were of Brittany when she was two and three.  I've always thought she was a cute kid, even as a baby.  I know I'm biased, but I looked at these photos as objectively as possible and I still think she was a cute kid.  Believe me, I have seen some babies who could never, under any circumstances, be called "cute."  When my oldest niece was born, I went to see my sister at the hospital.  I stopped by the nursery and, next to my niece, was a nearly 13-pound baby.  Now that alone wasn't any big deal, as far as looks.  It was the fact that about five pounds of this kid was all nose.  Jimmy Durante had nothing on this baby!  A few years later, a couple I knew through church had their first child.  The first time I saw this baby, he was swaddled, so I went up to the mom to see his face.  When she uncovered his face, I literally took a step back!  I must have made some sound--a squeak or a gasp--because the mother looked at me with concern.  I turned my head and pretended to sneeze!  I bravely took the step forward again and said, "He's so little!  I didn't want to sneeze on him."  Pretty fast thinking, if I do say so myself.  The best I can describe that poor little boy was "a wizened, old man."  Now if you think I'm being mean, you need to know what the kid's uncle called him.  Yoda.  The saddest part?  Nobody ever laughed when he said it!

Back to Brittany.  I do admit there are a few awkward stages during her first couple of years.  Like at nine months when her ears looked too big for her.  Or when she would pudge out just before a growth spurt.  But once she was about three, I didn't see those awkward phases again until she hit puberty.  For a couple of years, she was overweight and had glasses.  Fortunately, she had perfect teeth.  Then, just before high school, she slimmed down and got contact lenses.  At about 5' 1", she's slender and petite.  (She says she's 5' 1-3/4".  Whatever it takes to keep you going, I guess.)  In this picture, she's about 2-1/2 years.  How old was I?  Old enough.

She even has dimples!
Her hair had been blond up to this point.

Fashion Quest--Part IV

Details, details.  *Sigh*  Details and I have a rather ambivalent relationship.  Things like spelling and punctuation in anything printed are important to me.  Other things, like whether the throw pillows match the sofa--not so much.  As long as they don't blatantly clash, it's all good.  I was thrilled when "lumpy" mashed potatoes became the rage.  I can't be bothered to make sure all the lumps are gone.  And when it comes to fashion, makeup is nice, and I feel like I look better with it, but it isn't a big deal to me, either.  Jewelry rises up the scale, mostly because it's details that are (usually) easy to put on.

So, the details of our wedding fashions.  I already mentioned, the pewter and blood-red stone necklace that my mother will wear with her grey, beaded top tomorrow.  It came with matching earrings, but, since the piercings in her ears have long since closed, she won't be wearing them.  She wants to wear them.  She even hinted at having her ears repierced.  At one point I said "Why would you want to draw attention to your big, droopy earlobes?"  Not one of my finer moments, I confess.

This isn't a very good photo of the
"disco" necklace, but you get the idea.

For the New Year's Eve wedding, I already had a necklace that I knew would be perfect with for my mom's jacket and shell set.  My daughter has been using it for several months, but I managed to get it back with a minimum of fuss.  She calls it the "disco" necklace.  (My daughter, not my mom.)  It is 24" long and is comprised of shiny silver squares.  I have   had this for years.  I remember wearing it at least back to '01.

As far as other jewelry for my mom, she has some rings that we may consider, if there is time.

For myself, between the studs on the cardigan and the fancy necklines on the shirts I'll wear under it, I don't think I'll need necklaces.  When I dress tomorrow, I'll see if the pink tank needs anything else.  I already have a grouping of pewter bangle bracelets that I'll wear both times.  I also have really nifty pewter spiral earrings--that are rather outre for me--that I planned to wear to both weddings.  But tomorrow the temperature is supposed to reach 82 degrees.  I thought maybe I'll wear a nice pair of dangle earrings my friend, T, made with pink crystals and ceramic beads.  They're a little more demure, but that could be good. Leave the spirals for the more splashy New Year's Eve fiesta.

A brief mention about socks.  A lot of people don't really think about socks, or stockings.  I needed to find a pair of navy dress socks for my mom.   Aka, trouser socks, I found all kinds of textures in black.  After four stores, I was getting perturbed.  Finally, at Catherine's of course, I found navy nylon dress socks.  They even had a couple of textures to choose from!  I didn't even care how much they cost at that point.  For my mom's, uh, bad feet, I got the ones with cotton soles.  Feet gotta breathe, ya know?  While I was checking out the knee-high stockings, I realize that I needed something.  My eye was drawn right to the off-black color.  With my black pants and pewter shoes, I think they'll be great.  Will anyone really notice our stockings?  I really hope not.  The point is for people to notice our pants and shoes (especially my spiffy part-ay shoes!).

I realized I needed a clutch bag.  Besides the usual driver's license, tissue and lip balm, I'm going to have to bring both my mom's and my evening medications.  So I didn't want anything too small.  A couple of weeks ago, a shoe catalog came in the mail.  I was sitting with my morning tea, waiting for my mother to finish her breakfast, when I saw the perfect bag!

From Urban Expressions, the studs match
the studs on my cardigan.  It's about 14" wide.
It just has a wrist strap, but it zippers completely,
so no worries of anything falling out.

By the time I found the clutch, it was less than two weeks to the wedding so I wanted to have it ship Express.  The shipping costs in the original catalog was almost as much as the bag itself!  So I got the great idea of Googling it.  Found it on another website with free shipping!  I had to pay a modest fee for the Express, but that was cheaper than the first site's regular shipping!

My mother has an appointment to get her hair set in the morning.  My hair is at just the right length and coloring.

These are "Demure."
They were the least
obtrusive I could find.

Last, but definitely not least, is the makeup.  I will put a light foundation on my mother's face.  Maybe a light stroke of eyeshadow.  Mostly, she just wants her age spots covered up.  For myself, I ordered my expensive, hard-to-find OcuLash mascara.  It is made for extremely sensitive eyes.  I have mineral foundation (because I have Rosacea it has to be organic) and my trusty eyebrow powder.  In another bold move, I bought false eyelashes.  In the last few years, I have noticed that the lashes on my left eye don't curve upward anymore.  The other day, when I was trying to curl them, the eyelash curler slipped.  Besides yanking on my eyelid and making it sore, it also pulled out a half dozen lashes.  Left with a fairly large gap in my straight lashes, I'm going to try falsies!  LOL

I think we're ready.  I can't remember the last time I spent so much time and energy on an outfit.  Oh wait, yeah, that would be when I worked in corporate America!  I would not have had this much fun or been able to expend so much energy on these outfits if I still worked outside the home.  Gotta love being a caretaker!

Fashion Quest--Part III

Two days after my fashion recon, I took my mother to the shops to see what I had picked out.  Mind you, this was a Saturday.  Not my favorite day to shop retail.  Unless it's a small used-book store.  But, I digress, as usual.  With all that's involved in getting my mother up, fed and ready to go, I realized how much easier it had been with an infant or small child.  Between her trips to the bathroom and the painstaking process of dressing, I have to allow her an hour just to get to the breakfast table.  So we got a later start than I planned, but it was still morning when we left.

It was sunny, but cool and breezy.  My mother wore long sleeves, but was still freezing.  We took her larger, more cumbersome walker (Winnie--really, that's the brand name) because it has a seat which she can use to rest.  It is never more apparent how slow she is than when she is crossing a busy shopping-mall parking lot on a Saturday.  Since Winnie has four wheels and the seat, I was tempted to sit her down and push it like a wheelchair.  But she needs the exercise, so we crawled across the traffic, backing it up about 10 cars in each direction.  (The shopping mall has a WalMart and Sam's Club near the clothing stores.)

Inside Catherine's, she was awed by all the styles and colors.  I steered her toward the dressy clothes and found the pants I thought would work for her.  As I went through the rack looking for her size, she was in the middle of the main aisle, trying to sit down on Winnie.  She didn't seem to have the wheels locked and I was worried she would fall.  There is a chair in the middle of Catherine's--I guess for tired shoppers or bored companions.  Someone beat her to it--big surprise.  I helped her to sit on Winnie near the pants I was looking through.  During all this, over-enthusiastic sales ladies were hovering nearby.  I made a loud comment on how someone beat her to the chair, hoping the women sitting on her behind would move.  (Yes,

I love the studs down the front
and the shirring at the wrists.

I know, very passive-aggressive, and rude, too, but what can I say?  It irks me when people who can walk don't defer to people who can't.)  A few minutes later the chair was unoccupied (see?  it works!) and I convinced my mother to sit there.  Using Winnie as a display rack, I brought clothes to her to consider.  As I expected, she liked everything I had chosen on my recon trip.  (No, I'm not being conceited, I just know my mother's tastes very well.)  She was like a queen with her court.  The sales ladies talked to her and she told everyone about the two weddings we had and how it was just like what happened with her son and daughter.  The sales ladies did help me, however, we couldn't find another top for her for the 2nd wedding.  After getting the navy pants and a T-shirt on clearance for her, the grey duster/cardigan and a wine-colored top for me, we were ready to move on.

We bypassed Lane Bryant and headed to Dress Barn.   Since the sidewalk was in shadow, she complained about being cold.  And I thought the stores were close to each other!

In Dress Barn, there was no choice but for her to sit on Winnie.  I got her set up in a relatively out of the way place and proceeded to bring items to her.  The palazzo pants and the pewter shoes for me were a given.  We looked at a couple of dressy jackets and tops for her, but nothing really went with the navy pants.  While I was looking through a rack of sleeveless tops for something to go with one of her possibilities, I found a medium-pink tank top for me to wear to the 1st wedding.  (The wine-colored top from Catherine's would be for the 2nd.)  I was pretty well set.  But what to get my mother?  Well, there was plenty of time before New Year's Eve to find something.  Although the October 1st checks would need to cover wedding gifts for the 1st one, and the November 1st checks would need to cover car insurance and start Christmas shopping, and December 1st would be Christmas . . .  Well, you get the picture.  On a last sweep, I went over to a section I hadn't looked at before because, from a distance, it seemed like the tops were all black.  But as I got closer, I saw it!!  Ooooh, it was perfect!  Technically, it's black and blue.  That combination didn't work with the navy on other tops, but, for whatever reason, it worked on this!  And it shimmered!  I just knew she'd love it and she did:

This is a jacket and shell set.

So we had our outfits.  My mother was delighted with her finds.  With our clothing in garment bags, I went to head back to the car, relieved the worst was over.  My mother looked exhausted, yet she sat through most of it!  But I took pity (on her or the other shoppers, take your pick) and took our stuff to the car (where I spent nearly five minutes trying to get the hanger hook down) and pulled the car to the sidewalk for her.  I really don't remember what we did after that.  Well, went home, of course, but after that, it's all a blur.

Next time:  It's all about the details.