I feel, right now, as though I am wearing an iron corset with a set of screws set in the sides that, when tightened (similarly to laces being drawn tighter) squeeze the corset more tightly around me. I also feel as though someone keeps sneaking up behind me and doing so. To add considerable displeasure to my experience I also feel as though the overbust portion of the corset (you know, the kind with spikes set all along the inside) is likewise being tightened. Now, imagine that there is no escape save perhaps temporarily and only moderately with a hot shower. Imagine sleeping with this on. Hmm. Maybe even the guys are getting the picture. I have also, as a result, become Whiny Woman.

I hope this is over soon. There is not enough Ibuprophen in the world to combat the Party in My Pants.

On to better topics.

I have a hand held printer that is, perhaps, one of the neatest inventions EVAH. It's wireless and all that but it has no bluetooth or anything. By that, I mean it gets all it's printing potential from design disks that you plug into it. Well, that's OKay, as long as YOU can program the design disk. There's a machine you can buy from the same company that gives a limited kind of capability in that areana but it's not great. I think, for what it is, that it's too expensive (the programming machine). So, I went searching and found a company in the UK that makes a cool dongle thingy that you can use to make your computer accept the same cards the printer does and also software to go with it. SWELL. It's not too expensive and I WANT IT. I could even have it, if the company would answer its email messages. The link from the product description page to their actual online store is busted. I hate that and I'm really bummed (see corset description for understanding of slight overreaction). Well, if anyone has any suggestions, feel free to comment. I'm all out. No one else sells this thing and I can't find it on eBay or any other site that sells the printer.
 

... and everything in its place. Ah, yes, unpacking. Again.

My husband promises me that this will be the last major move we ever do if he has anything to say about it. I hope so. I mean, we still have to move from the rental to whatever house we eventually buy but that will, hopefully, be a small move in comparison. Of course, we will downsize for that move too.

Of course, it's also Spring in NC, so that's a bonus. I have a weird cough though, probably allergy related. I'll consult the doctor when I establish care. Yup, got to do that too.

New doctors (of every ilk), counselor (for me), new bagel place, new Starbucks, new spot where I can get my sugar fix (when not settling for sbux or bagel place)... the list goes on.

I told Dan that, unless this location is wiped off the face of the earth we (not having been taken with it, of course) will look here first for someplace to buy when the time comes. He readily agreed.

I still haven't found my yoga studio yet and I am NOT driving a long distance for one. (long distance = more than 5 minutes)

I found a great recipe for Caramel Apple donuts. Can't get enough of them. This is bad. Someone needs to come over for tea and help me eat them. But who? Please quickly! I am getting fatter just smelling them! Whoa is me.

http://www.shutterbean.com/baked-caramel-apple-donuts/


 

I think it's interesting that I seldom even get close to the 60 character limit on my title to my blog entry but that, if I'm going to be at all close, I tend to overshoot by a mile. Maybe not newsworthy, but just interesting. Okay, maybe just to me.

I've finally started getting the craft room in my new place into shape. I haven't had my personal computer in a situation where I could actually blog for about a week or more here. In a real pinch, I can blog on my netbook but it does this weird thing with the home and shift keys that it's just too hard to explain. I finally have a sewing table that fits my cutting mat, if you care, and now I can get back to my quilt.

I also need to get back to my website (www.mightynicelight.com) which is hosted by www.fatcow.com. I only mention that, not because it's up and running yet, but because fatcow.com is run entirely on wind energy which makes it a green website. I think that's cool. I set up my own website so that I can eventually link to my different blogs, or blog there, and link to my eventual Etsy page. I hope you all will visit when all is up and running but, I'm not holding my breath. I mean, there's a million or more crafters out there vying for attention all the time on the web so...

Hopefully, I'll figure out how to publish my website this weekend. They're really helpful at Fat Cow and I think all I really need to do is just call and ask them how. Somehow, I'm missing a button somewhere. Figures, I who give tech support am doomed to always need it.

Oh, and here's a bummer for me. My in-laws leave on Sunday morning. Now I'm back to long lonely days alone by myself all the danged time. Well, it's probably for the best. Now I can concentrate on my work more... both my real job and my crafting.


 

sometimes; what it is that goes on in my head.

Sometimes it's a million things at once and sometimes just one obsessive, all-consuming, idea.

Today, it was actually both. Silly, I know, but I was actually obsessing over the color (or actually tone) of my hair. At the same time, I was trying to think of anything else I could.

I ended up thinking about a project I'm doing craft-wise which I also brainstormed aloud to Mom about. She came up with a great suggestion which really just gave me some hope for the day even though it didn't work out in the end. It really lifted my spirits to have that hope. She's way smarter than she gives herself credit for. You see, I'm going to tell you all about it because this is, after all, MY blog and I can write about whatever I want.

You see, it's like this. I ordered some Oilcloth (actual oilcloth, not vinyl coated cotton fiber) from a company on the web called Mendel's. You have GOT to check them out if you are into cool fabrics. I'm not saying they are the cheapest but I think they are reasonably priced on most things that I looked at. It's just that they have really COOL stuff. Oh, and they are also an art supply store as well. But I digress. Seriously, I do that a lot, don't I?

Well, one thing lead to another and I eventually inquired into the status of my online order and it turned out there was a snafu with the ordering cart and I ended up almost not getting my order sent out at all but for the fact that I asked about it by return email using the order confirmation that the cart automatically belches out. So, all's well that ends well and all that except I am nothing if not incredibly impatient. Since it shipped way later than I had thought, it won't get here until the last day before I MUST pack up my sewing machine. Bummer.

I was going to use the oilcloth to line sandwich wraps, some of which I was going to give (well, I still will, I suppose) to my MIL. Bummer. So Mom suggests, when I explain all this to her, that I just buy a table cloth and didn't she just see some on sale at Dollar General in that flier I gave her to read through just in case we needed anything in it for the move? So, we go there, and I do and it turns out to be just vinyl coated cotton fiber but I gave it the good ole college try on just one wrap and it sucks. Oh well, but I was seriously uplifted all day because of her suggestion. I mean, if this had worked, there were three, formerly lost, sewing days, in which I could have been making sandwich wraps, restored to usefulness.

Now, while all that is going on in my head, I'm also desperately rooting about for other craft projects I can do in a just a couple days with only the supplies I currently have or can get for $5. It's a challenge but I'm up for it. I was thinking snack bags but I still need the oilcloth for that so NOW I'm thinking lunchbag with bottle holder (I have a pattern - which is always the start of great things) and all I really need for that is velcro. Whoohoo! I'm pretty sure I can get a goodly amount of velcro for $5. I'm thinking I'm going to make the first one for Daverlee on account of she works away from home at a regular 8 hour a day job now and probably needs to at least bring a snack.

I know what you're thinking... "Why doesn't she use more commas, dammit?" Well, it's like this; commas are for pauses in speech. I put them where I would naturally pause but that's the thing. I TALK in runon sentences and I seldom pause at all because to me a pause is just an invitation to be interrupted. I didn't get a lot of respect as a kid and developed that runon sentence style to try to combat that. SO, you also have to ask, "Why is she so afraid of being interrupted NOW, as an adult?" ADHD is really the only way I can answer. I'm actually Bi-Polar but most people are unfamiliar with that diagnosis or with the side effects that some of the meds you take for it have. You see, both being Bi-Polar and the meds for it can cause some, well, loss of short attention span, scatter-brained thinking, and restlessness. I know, sounds familiar, right? We've all been taught that that is ADHD but, in my case, it's really just who I am in combination with the lovely pharmaceuticals that make me liveable and loveable. What, I'm really afraid of is not so much having to share the floor with another person's thoughts, it's forgetting mine. So, I have trouble with commas. I'm trying though. See, right there?

Well, (and yes I KNOW I say that a lot too) it's getting late and I really ought to try to sleep. I'm thinking that frappuccino MIGHT have been a bad idea...
 

Only make one yearn for more.

I heard a man "play a guitar" today. But to say this is not even accurate.

My first instinct is to report that he assaulted the instrument as some men torture animals just to hear their plaintive cries. After taking more time to appreciate this performance, I am convinced that what I heard was actually the operatic voice of the instrument being used, nay, played in a definition of that word more often thought of in such an application as hunting or sport. It is as though a live animal writhed in his arms singing in a tortured voice, fearing imprisonment.

One could almost hear it making one last, heartfelt display in an effort to prove its worth greater, unchained.

At other times, it serenaded him. It sang and purred under his caress. This was achieved with a look of devotion and utter love for his craft upon his countenance.

Sounds more than music came from this battered and bruised guitar. Instruments unseen wailed in its skillfully played body. One wonders, I suppose I do at least, how an artist such as this pulls such beautiful and soulful sounds from such a humble device. How does he even know they exist? How can he know how to pull them forth? Must he actually live and breath his art? I fear so.

His name is Tommy Emmanuel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x346VoDX3pA
 

Occasionally, I am visited by a word or phrase which will just resonate for me. I'm sure that happens to us all in various ways. For some, it could be a food, for others a smell or even a movie or a character in a story. Today, for me, it's actually two things sort of "pinging" off of one another in my head; a phrase and a word. First, let's explore the word. For that, I'll have to introduce you.

Oh coveted blog reader, meet "Sublime". I love love love this word. It sounds cool and smooth. It feels like a tiny sip of peppermint schnapps after a rich, garlic laden, Italian meal. It sounds like something you whisper into a willing young virgin's neck to give her that last little nudge to becoming yours with a breathless sigh of abandon.

I've looked it up on Wikitionary and here is what it says about this word:

sublime (comparative more sublime, superlative most sublime)
1. Noble and majestic.
2. Impressive and awe-inspiring.

Okay, but I'm WAY more impressed with the definition of sublime as a philosophy:

In aesthetics, the sublime (from the Latin sublīmis) is the quality of greatness or vast magnitude, whether physical, moral, intellectual, metaphysical, aesthetic, spiritual or artistic. The term especially refers to a greatness with which nothing else can be compared and which is beyond all possibility of calculation, measurement or imitation.

Who among us does not strive for the sublime in our lives? I love this word. I shall meditate upon it.

Now, for the phrase I have locked in my head like a hexbug with no portals to escape through:

"all replete with very thee."

It's from a religious poem by Sir Thomas Moore and talks about filling ones self up with the holy spirit (I assume). I think the thing that draws me to this phrase, now that I type it out and eye it more critically, is the use of the word "replete". What a cool word.

Wiktionary says:

Adjective

replete (comparative more replete, superlative most replete)

1. Abounding.
2. Gorged, filled to near the point of bursting, especially with food or drink.

[edit] Synonyms

* (abounding): plentiful, abundant
* (gorged): stuffed

Perhaps this is just my subconscious trying to remind me that I am replete with all I need to achieve my own personal sublime. I hope so. I'd hate to have them stuck in my head for days and get burned out on them. They are such cool words.

Well, back to mundane.

Oh yeah, take THAT you non-readers. *muttering*... RUE the day....

 

Most Americans (assuming no learning impairments and regular schooling) can spell at least a reasonable approximation of most words. I mean, you see some pretty silly spellings but you can generally identify the word. A large part of this is the bastardized language its self with a myriad of bizarre rules for spelling and pronunciation. Really, thank the higher forces for spell check. So, it comes as no real surprise to me that my MIL has challenges when it comes to spelling. What comes as a surprise is the degree of challenge.

You see, like many of her generation, her ability to earn a living was prized above her ability to achieve higher learning. When, that fact is coupled with the fact that further education was considered an almost insurmountable challenge for her (mostly by her), it seemed only natural to quit school and do the RIGHT THING by getting a job. I can grok this. I also understand her to have told me that she has at least a 6th grade education and used to read A LOT. She used to read romance novel after romance novel. Now, that's not really the genre I'm interested in but I have picked up one or two out of curiosity. Those writers are no slouches when it comes to using big words.

That's not even really the point though. Reading is excellent stimulation for learning proper grammar and spelling. Anyone can tell by listening to her, that he grasp of proper grammar is excellent. Choice of words; not as good. Spelling, really really bad. This wouldn't bother me much except, by all accounts, these were not the challenges she faced educationally. She was apparently EXCELLENT at these things.

OKay, so any skill is bound to be rusty after disuse. I mean, don't even ASK me how to do any Trigonometry. You'd be SOL on that one. Now, Algebra, Geometry; piece of cake. I use THEM every day. I also spell every day.

I suppose it's possible to have forgotten some of the old rules about spelling (i before e, blah blah blah) but to Mom, the possibilities are WIDE OPEN. We all seem to know that certain letter combinations just don't work together but, in Mom's case, even that filter is nonexistent. Really, she has given up even trying to do it herself and just asks me to spell everything.

All of this wouldn't bother me too terribly but for what it might mean about Mom's mental health. She has a history of Alzheimer's in her family. With her reading and writing skills having seemingly deteriorated so dramatically, should I be worried?


 

My body beckons warmth
as sun bores through cloudy skies.
To move, pain sublime.
 

In my continuing effort to make those who do not read my blog rue the day (Rue it!) they stopped, I have helpful suggestion that I thought of all by myself. It's a sharps container for crafters.

No doubt, if you been to a doctor's office lately, you've seen the sharps disposal container that they keep on the wall or counter of the examination rooms. Obviously, such a system would benefit many other individuals who are not in the medical fields as well. Think of all the razor blades, snap blades, sewing machine needles, and rotary cutter blades you discard every week/month/year just to name a few. Don't you worry they are going right through that trash bag? Maybe you, like I, go through intricate procedures to protect against the potential for harm these objects represent... taping the blade, sticking the needle into a cork, etc.

What if you just made a sharps container? What you need: Plastic container (such as a peanut butter jar or a butter tub), a blade of your choosing capable of cutting the lid of your chosen container.

Basically, just make sure the container is clean (you don't want it to smell, right?) and then cut a 2 to 3 inch by 1/4 inch rectangular opening in the top. Place lid on container. Now you can get all fancy shmancy and decorate it all up and put a spiffy label on it that says "household sharps" or something similar, but really, just scrawling that out on the side with a sharpie will do just fine.

Now, if only there were a service (perhaps at hobby and home improvement stores) that allowed you to drop off your filled sharps containers for recycling...

Tell all your friends who don't read my blog. Go on, make them jealous. Oh, and don't worry, it's fine to repost this idea. Just give me credit if you don't mind.
 

I figured I'd start out with a cool quote I found which doesn't have much to do with the title question but is worth mulling over nontheless.

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

— C. S. Lewis

Now, if I tell someone who is attempting to "save" me that I do not wish to be saved and that I am happy as, let's just say, a Buddhist and that person persists in pressing religious tracks into my hand or telling me to call on a god (any god) to solve my worries, is he/she indeed terrorizing me? I mean, are they not threatening my right to the pursuit of happiness? Have they not, certainly after being asked not to do this, violated my right to free speech? Doesn't that right imply also the right NOT to listen to that which I find offensive? Or does it? Do I have to listen just because others have free speech?

What do you think?

I am just grateful that my spiritual path does not require me to "convert" anyone.