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Posts Tagged ‘aww’

Earlier this month I completely cleaned out a Fabricland that was closing down, figuring I would make a bunch of baby clothes to save some money/exercise my sewing skills a little better than I did by making diapers/give myself something else to guilt-trip my future child about.

And so far I have completed exactly one (1) completely adorable little outfit complete with little feet.

The object on the left is called a "bunting".

It seems that most baby patterns are for things that you would give as gifts, like the set above. So they include cute little appliques:

and feet pants that you embroider lion faces on:

Look at the little feet!

Also I think there must be very strict regulations surrounding the manufacture of baby sleepwear, because all baby patterns include the phrase “NOT INTENDED TO BE USED FOR SLEEPWEAR”, even when they clearly are for pyjamas. Seriously, the more modern word for “bunting” (a sort of sack thing you put a baby in instead of using blankets, because the little bastards are prone to accidentally choking themselves) is “sleeping sack”. What is the bunting for if not for swaddling your sleeping baby in?

Anyway, who knows? I had a curling iron for a while that had a label on it warning you not to use it to curl your eyelashes.

If you want to make this yourself, this is New Look Baby pattern #6015. I used about 1.5 metres blue fleece (the outfit and lining for the bunting) and a 60 cm remnant of flannel for the outside of the bunting.  (The bunting isn’t supposed to have a lining, but the fleece was also a remnant and had some flaws in the dye, so I thought I’d make it warmer by using the flawed fleece to line it, since I couldn’t use it for anything else.)  It took about 7 hours including hand-appliqueing the lion.

Considering how long this took me – and how much fabric it used, considering the size of the creature it’s intended for – I think I can make two more little outfits like this one and maybe three little cotton outfits for summer, hardly a complete layette. Fortunately I live quite close to two thrift stores with extensive baby sections.

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We’ve been on a clean living and cleanliness kick lately, so this morning I made the bed right after getting up.

I know what you’re thinking, smug clean-freak people – “Why is that unusual? I do that every morning, right before I exercise for 30 minutes and sweep my already spotless floor!”  Well, lah-di-dah. It’s like flossing – I go through phases. Sometimes I do it every day when it’s my turn, sometimes I don’t.

Anyway, the dogs like to sleep in the bed during the day, especially when it’s cold and rainy.  Normally they burrow under the covers and make a little nest.  Madeline does this even when the bed is made, much to my annoyance.  Gus has never quite figured that one out.

So this is what he did this morning:

In case you can’t tell because of the matching duvet cover and pillow shams, he has burrowed under…a pillow.

"So?"

I’m kind of impressed by his problem-solving skills.  Clearly his thought process went something like:

– I want to get under the covers.
– I can’t get under the covers.
– Maybe I can get under this thing.

I’m also impressed that he got under the pillow without flipping it over and losing his little nest.

"Will you please turn off the light and let me get some sleep?"

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So while it was beautifully, gloriously warm yesterday – that is, it got above 0oC – today the temperature plummetted and the wind picked up and god was it bad outside. Aaaaaaaaand of course I had to take my bike out to work.

I biked to my first lesson (because I had to drop something off on the way), biked between lessons, then took the subway home. Because it was cryogenic corpse freezer cold out there and I’d already burned more calories than I’d eaten that day and Ben had nicked my rear light. Take my advice, folks – don’t be a hero when it’s so cold your brakes freeze.

Anyway, at some point between getting into the subway and getting within three stops of my house I lost a glove. I must have made a face (or said something out loud – probably something obscene), because this is what happened next:

Young mother in seat next to where I’m standing: Hey, did you lose a glove?

Me: Yeah, I must have dropped it in the station.

YM: You can have these. [hands me a pair of stretchy black gloves] I have an extra pair, I don’t need them.

Me: Are you sure?

YM: Yeah, go ahead.

Me: Thanks!

So thank you, random lady with the four-year-old on the subway. I have never met you before and will probably never meet you again, but you saved a human life – or at least a human hand – tonight. Thank you for being a genuinely nice person. And in case you *are* reading this, your little boy is super cute and very well-behaved.

I will put the gloves you gave me in my bike bag and give them to the next person I run into who needs them.

The second Google Images result for "karma glove"

Oh, completely OT, my last lesson of the evening was cancelled because the THIRTEEN YEAR OLD CHILD in question is seeing Bon Jovi today. Seriously! Bon Jovi! Do you know, the first boy I ever went out with (when I was 13) wanted to take me to a Bon Jovi concert? I went on one date with him – to see The Lion King – went swimming at his house once, then spent the rest of the summer making thinner and thinner excuses for why I couldn’t go out with him again. (“My aunt is visiting! I have the flu! My best friend broke her ankle and I have to babysit her little brother for her!”) He was a perfectly nice boy and everything, but I was saving myself for David Duchovny. In the fall we went to different high schools and never spoke again.

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Ben has begun his cross-Canada biking adventure. I have begun my “get house ready for people renting is while I’m away” adventure. Not quite so much fun.

Anyway, Ben has been sending me periodic text messages. They’re very sweet, because he’s never texted before (he didn’t have a cellphone before last Friday, when I got him one), so they’re poorly spelt in an entirely endearing way, like:

its nice heare and i made a big fire gning to sleep now ill text xyou tommorrow lots now that i jnow how

Or:

Owen sound geading tno wairton love ben

The lack of commas also makes them sound like he’s shouting them drunkenly from far away for some reason. I do miss him.

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As I’m not working much right now, I have been taking the dogs to the off-leash more frequently than normal. It’s only about a 15 minute walk away, but if you work 2:30-9:30 or whatever I was doing in the school year you find yourself disinclined to haul yourself there and back even when you do have time.

And if I haven’t been in a while I always forget how awesome dogs are. I am constantly reminded of how awesome my own dogs are, but I do forget that other people’s are as well. Some examples:

– Marley, the Sharpei/Basset Hound. Just picture what that cross would look like.

_

_

_

I know, you can’t. This is a Basset Hound:

And this is a Shar Pei:

And this is what you might get if you play God Cupid:

That is not an actual picture of Marley. She basically looked like a Basset Hound with a few extra wrinkles, only she was entirely the tan Shar Pei colour. And she was a sweetheart.

– Brooke, the 3/4 Chihuahua/ 1/4 Jack Russell

You know how some short guys are really aggressive and macho to make up for their shortness? Brooke may be 4 pounds of adorable long-haired Chihuahua-ness, but she is totally overcompensating. Madeline will occasionally go up to a much larger dog and howl in its face. This is not a smart thing for a 25-pound dog to do, but at least Madeline is not in danger of being squashed by the misstep of a Bernese Mountain Dog. Brooke was determined that the entire park knew she was the toughest dog around, and she did her best. Unfortunately she was so cute that even the Great Dane didn’t buy it.

– Billy the Bull-Terrier

Billy likes his squeaky toy. So much that he keeps it in his mouth, squeaking it, all the time. He lets his (also quite adorable) owner throw it, then gets hold of it and won’t let go for anything. This doesn’t stop him from playing with the other dogs – he runs around with them, and occasionally pokes one in the shoulder with his snout, because he can’t play-bite them without dropping his toy, and growls if anyone makes a play for it. That sort of obsession is awfully endearing.

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It passed unnoticed.  I forgot entirely.  It was on July 27, 2008 that I started this blog.  I’m not going to go all sentimental and write “What I’ve learned from blogging” or anything like that, but I thought I should note it nevertheless.

So I will invent a self-indulgent blog meme.

Search the following words on your blog:
– plural
– pride
– goo
– basset hound
– excellent

Pick one random sentence from one of the posts dredged up by the keywords, and link it back to the original post.

Then you should tag people, but I probably won’t do that.

Here we go:

Plural:

…when you try a creepy line on a woman and she turns you down, it isn’t necessarily because she’s a cold-hearted bitch… (link)

Pride:

He doesn’t understand birthdays, of course, and has celebrated his mainly by sleeping through it… (link)

Goo:

…taking peoples’ booze away in this situation is just asking for revolution… (link)

Basset Hound:

Tags which actively decrease blog traffic: aww, criticism, jesus, lazy, meta, opera –
market research is *EVERYTHING*. (link)

Excellent:

…if they do strike…moonshine may be the only way…(link)

OK, enough, enough.  If anyone is still reading this, let me be mushy for a moment and thank you for allowing me to become part of your brain for just a little while.  It’s been fun.  Not that I’m stopping or anything – I plan on continuing to blog until telepathy evolves.

Onwards.

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I’m back!  We spent the weekend at Ben’s parents’ place on Howe Island.  The dogs had a great time, we ate and drank a lot, went on a long boat ride and got totally burned to a crisp.  (Seriously, I think I’m going to get wrinkles about ten years earlier than I would otherwise.)

Madeline got another chance to practice swimming:

As did Gus:

That’s Morton the Golden Retriever in the water and Howie the super-cute little Jack Russell/Schnauzer/something else puppy frolicking with them after Gus gets out.

Complaining with Kay Literary Supplement coming right up…

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