It must be summer.
And so did the wine.
These ladies cut some pizza and cake.
Then the party began.
The King of Maberga.
I don’t iron. I iron nothing. I don't hate it or anything, I just don't see the point. There are people, like my mom who iron everything. Most Italians I know would rather die than leave the house unironed. My mom, and most Italians I know iron bed sheets. BED SHEETS. I have, many times, declared that I have never and will never iron the sheets.
Ok. I ironed this sheet, but it’s not going on the bed. I hatched an idea yesterday and it involved an old sheet. The idea went better with an ironed sheet. So I ironed a sheet.
Want to take a little trip with me? Come on. I’ll tour you through my thinking…the thought process that hatched the idea. Everyone vaccinated? Let’s go into my head.
think: I really want to crochet a rag rug.
think: gotta learn to crochet.
6 months later…
find: every sheet in the house with huge holes from new puppy
think: I’ll save these for that rag rug I want to make!
1 year later…
see: a guy on The Panopticon blog knitting with needles as big as turkey basters
think: I can KNIT a rag rug! (duh)
look for: turkey baster sized needles.
3 weeks later…
think: I can knit a rag rug!
borrow: Mette’s turkey baster needles
learn: to make great balls of cloth yarn from Mette
go: home with jumbo needles and some new-to-me knowledge
receive: this cool book from some friends who own a gallery in town (Art for the Housewife author/artist Cynthia Korzekwa...very cool, google her)
make: a cappuccino
finish : the milk
think: Don't get distracted. I’m going to knit a rag rug! (a crochet version is found in the book)
find: Q ripped up sheets
knit: a practice square
think: I need a better sheet
think: I need an even better sheet.
get: permanent markers and white sheet
MAKE: a better sheet
knit: a … well, I don’t know what it will be yet but after all that I’m sure as shit not putting it on the floor and walking on it.
Tour’s over. I’ve got to knit.
Maybe it was finding this week's entry in the "LOOK WHAT I FOUND IN MY HOUSE!" that has me wanting to move everything around, vacuum, bleach, vacuum some more.
Check that guy out! I found him floating in my dish water...which I suppose is better than my bath water, but freaked me out just a bit anyway. Note to self: check your shoes.
Anyway, back to the studio...
This room, when we bought the house, was the personal dump of the former owners. There was a dirt floor, a variegated fiberglass roof, an old pizza oven whose dome had caved in unfortunately leaving it just a pile of bricks, mountains of trash, and a little room that housed the toilet. At least that's what I was told, I personally refused to go through the little door leading to the toilet. Not that I'm really a 5 star kind of girl but there's something about climbing over 50 years of someone's trash, closing myself in a 2'x3' room and pulling my pants down...no thanks.
Therefore, the room was one of the first projects. A floor was poured and tiled, walls build and a roof put on. Unfortunately we used a less than stellar guy to do the work and it’s all pretty half-assed. Apart from the rain that comes through the roof and cries down the walls and the breezes (gales) that waft (whip) through the (enormous) gaps by the door and windows, it’s just fine for me.
So yesterday with a spoonful of sugar and an amazing display of energy, time and paint, I gave the room a new look. Everything was moved out and the room was wiped down, painted, rearranged, and then, after a little culling, refilled.
Space to play with yarn
space to play with beads
space to display my goods when friends come over to shop
And space for whatever the spirit may move me to next.
What was all this space doing before?
It might have been housing this, which is still in the bedroom.
You think David will notice?
I’m pleased to report that I found no scorpions.