while the sun shines

Yesterday was one of those frighteningly infrequent February days of funshine (I mean SUNSHINE--- a bit carried away, there).

The inhabitants of the Last Homely House were drawn to windows near to the warm stuff.

Including me (I took a picture of my feet that will NEVER AGAIN see the light of day because Hoo Boy! Photographed feet are actually less pretty than In Real Life feet).

Beyond sunbathing, there was a lot of sewing-related activity. Which reminds me that I owe you some catch up nonsense. I don't know why sewing reminds me of this important task I have yet to cover, but there it is: a reminder.

On the docket of nonsense is an explanation about the Creamies. You could say I'm bragging, but I am choosing to believe I'm just being intensely factual when I tell you that I think they look fabulous. I've already said that a few times, you say? Fine. I'll tell you something new about them: they were originally bright green collpasable froggie men.

Really.

And then I had Chip gnaw the eyes off.

Just kidding! He surgically removed them. With a sharp knife. It was still a little weird and gory. (Even more gory: they actually sort of popped off once he cut around the painted parts.) Once their eyeballs were removed (I'm choosing to pronounce that word today as remove-ED, just because) --- they looked much more like little Creamie guys. But they had horrid little holes in their heads.

So I filled the holes with spackle. And then I sanded, sanded, sanded. And painted, painted, painted.

Until they looked like this.

So there you go, my in depth tutorial on turning a $1 collapsable froggie dude into a fantastic Creamie.

In other news, you should have heard the panic in Chip's voice when he called me from Portland yesterday. He had been reading all of your suggestions for Bean's 2nd birthday and was all I HOPE YOU REMEMBER THAT WE DON'T HAVE ANY ROOM WHATSOEVER FOR A PLAY KITCHEN. DON'T GET ANY IDEAS, LADY. To which I was all, Dude. I know. But your ideas were smashing - so smashing, in fact, that I think we're leaning toward the fake food / play pots & pans route. And maybe that card table tent.

Also in other news, I am stricken with some kind of free-floating ANXIETY. And when I say free floating, I mean it - because I have no idea where the ANXIETY is coming from and I have no idea what I can do to make it go away.

Apparently exercise is not the key, because yes, I'm still doing that. Yesterday Bean actually MADE me work out. I woke up feeling pretty UCK and just didn't want to bother. So I wasn't going to. Then we were downstairs and I was getting Bean her breakfast when she's all ESS-SER-SIZE? ESS-SER-SIZE? When I told her the bad news, that she wouldn't be wildly swinging her arms or rolling around on the floor with me today (because that's apparently how she interprets it-- lots of flailing arms, some rolling around, and some JUMPING). She FREAKED THE FREAK OUT. With the screaming of ESS-SER-SIZE!!!! And lots of exclamation points. So I did the flailing and rolling and jumping and all was well with our world.

Except for that anxiety. Which: yes, still here.

And you're still here. Because this is the post of nothing that WILL! NOT! END!

So I'm going to end it. Peace out, duders. Let's talk on Monday.