Saturday, October 29, 2016

The old brown couch

A well-meaning friend offered me a couch this week. A very nice couch.
But I like Garrett's couch. It's soft and brown and cozy, and I've fallen asleep on it a couple times.
So I messaged Garrett to tell him of the couch offer. Maybe he won't like the new couch. Maybe it's too brightly colored for his cave-like den.
He liked the new couch.
Oh, dear, what do I do now?
This is the time when I split into two people - feelings and logic.
Feelings: I think...I don't know... But I don't want a new couch!
Logic: Why? Garrett has told you how his sinks down where the boys always sat. And you know this couch is a nice one.
Feelings: But I like his old couch.
Logic: Why?
Feelings (starting to get all panicky and weepy): Because everything is changing so fast. I'm moving out. I'm getting married. I'm changing everything. I JUST WANT THE COUCH TO STAY THE SAME. And it's brown and cozy and soft and snuggly and it makes a comforting cave. (wailing) Why do we need a new one???
Logic stares blankly for a moment and then tries again: If the new couch is in better shape and will last longer, it only makes sense to get it. And if Garrett likes it, we have a win win situation. Seriously, it's just a couch. I don't understand why this is turning into a big deal.
Feelings: (hiccupping around sobs)
Logic: Okay, then. Moving right along. Clearly you have lost your sanity. Quite alright - I've noticed you do this periodically, and you always seem to recover. However, we shall remove your decision-making privileges until you return to a rational state of mind, per protocol.


I still haven't decided about the couch yet. But other than that, I'm handling the impending major life changes pretty well, thank you.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Appliqués



Having searched the world over, I have discovered that my wedding dress is not in existence, at least not in my price range. So I'm making it myself with a little help from friends.


Garrett: Are you sure you're up for making your own dress?
Me (having never done this before and therefore completely without experiential knowledge of my capabilities in this arena): Well, if I walk down the aisle in November wearing jeans and a t-shirt, you'll know I wasn't.


But so far it is going well. I'm embroidering my own appliqués to go on the dress, which is new for me.


Talking to Garrett about appliqués has been interesting. Apparently it's not a word he's terribly familiar with. But he doesn't need to know what it means because he can tell from the sound of the word that it is something fancy. He's amazing at voice impressions, and he sometimes pulls out this posh, snooty laugh such as you might expect from a British gentleman who delights in laughing over his own wealth and scorning the lesser citizens. So, every time I say the word "appliqué", he repeats it and does this laugh... Which is both comical and exasperating. I'm half afraid to use the word in conversation any more.


One of the appliqués I made is a rearing horse (yes, that's it at the beginning of this post -- pretty cool, huh?). I designed it myself, had no idea how it would turn out, and it emerged beautifully. I spent probably four hours on it, and I was prodigiously proud of it. I took a picture and sent it to Garrett. Was he amazed? Nope. He said it looked nice, but I'm pretty sure he has no concept of what it took to make it and just how horribly it COULD have turned out.


Which is why, when he jokingly told me yesterday that he might make some appliqués (cue: snobby laugh) to put on his tie, I told him I didn't think he had what it took. Normally, such words would be perceived as a challenge, and he would rise to the occasion and wow me with his abilities. But, this time I was wowed by his perception because he quickly shifted tactics to tell me my embroidery skills were phenomenal.


He does read me pretty well, which makes secrets kind of pointless.  I was making another applique when he called.
Garrett: What is this one? Another horse?
Me: Nope, this one is a surprise.
Garrett: Is it a rabid mongoose, attacking a cobra?
Me (stifling laughter): Close enough.
Garrett: Is it really?
Me: No, and listen -- you can't keep guessing. I'm not going to tell you if you're right.
Garrett: You don't have to tell me. I'll be able to tell by the change in your vocal patterns.
Me: (growling in fake irritation and then being serious again) Actually, you alone probably could. Which is why you can't guess. I want this one to be a surprise.
          And, thankfully, we changed the subject after that. ;)


My little surprise one turned out pretty well, unlike the giant 12"x14" one that I did the other day. It looked amazing on paper but I didn't stabilize it enough for stitching so it puckered. I'm kinda sad about that because it had so much potential... And also because it took a whole afternoon, and I may not be able to use it. Sigh.


But that's okay. Dresses are a process. And, as Anne of Green Gables says, tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet. Right? ;)