Blogging Fusion

[see the heart shape in the middle?]

... everywhere.
and sunshine.

and what does this picture show you?
that in my world, there is also a well-maintained coif during my year of not cutting my hair. that's right! still haven't cut it and yet, don't i look like fresh from the set of a pantene ad?
the only questions is, would that be an ad for shampoo, or cover-your-roots? today, i have counted nine grey hairs altogether. when i thought there were three. but, i welcome them.
just as much as i welcome my high forehead up there. come to think of it, i don't find it very high. which might be because i'm used to it.

now, i was going to post photos here of my freshly SELFselfself-upholstered [what i mean is, BY MEEEE] chairs. as you can see, read, i am very proud of my accomplishment. and so happy with the chairs. to sit in them is soothing. comforting. safe, happy, comfortable.
what i was saying, i was going to post a photo. i have before and during photos. and i just tried to take a few after photos, for this post, but with the sun leaving us [don't worry, it will be back tomorrow] no light, photo, shows the color of the new fabric as i see it. so, i shall try again in the morning.

for now i shall leave you, my dear readership, the few, with a wish.

happy halloweeeeen!

and whenever i think, type, say this, i think of one of my favorite scenes from ugly betty.
enjoy.

 

and a little bark.
 

a tree across the street. worthy of having its shaky picture taken at sundown.
 

just like the neighbor's palm tree and our backyard. roses on the side, and a cozy golden girls sunset.
 

but, creeping around the neighborhood dressed up as a shrub to take photos of magic moments wasn't all i did.
i also -after both my hubby and i scraped our legs at the sharp edge of the bed several times- smoothed the edge of our bed. i bought a pocket plane for the occasion. however. once, at home, i remembered the un-handy, big, paint-splattered plane i bought at the drive-in flea market in san luis obispo with brad months ago for five dollars. that's right. that's what i call it, the un-handy, big, paint-splattered plane i bought at the drive-in flea market in san luis obispo with brad months ago for five dollars. in short: tubppibatdfmislowbmaffd. i will refer to it as 'tubppi' from here on.
even though tubppi is missing one handle, and i had to work a little harder at maneuvering him, her, it, not that i know how to correctly maneuver a plane to begin with [thank god there's usually a pilot on the flight], my enthusiasm and excitement at using something i had bought for its looks made up for it.
and it worked!
 

above you see tubppi and the smoothed edge. i painted the bed black after, so i am very glad of having taken photos of the board's side. isn't it pret-tyy?
 

please pay no attention to the chipped corner. it's not tubppi's fault.

one of the photos i found on my camera is of a top i sewed:
 

'twas taken a few months ago. even though lovely, the top is now with the salvation army. or possibly already with a new owneress. the brown part at the top wasn't as stretchy as i thought, or as elastic, or too elastic, so i frequently had to pull it back up when wearing it. adding a strap or two wasn't an option, since it's a strapless top. now someone else's strapless top. i don't have to keep everything i make since i create to learn, too. and there's a photo. what else do i want?
nothing.
i like answering rhetorical questions.
never shall i forget the time i first encountered a rhetorical question. and how clueless i was.
'twas a family reunion. i must have been ten or younger. i would like to flatter myself by telling you that the fine nuances of language, such as rhetorical questions, were part of my conversation skills from age four on, but let's try to stay closer to reality here. i might also have been twelve.
all i remember is that i was sitting at a table, next to my dad. in a room in this big house in lamprecht, with dozens of people present. in comes aunt therese, my great-aunt, and asks into our direction,
"wouldn't christine rather sit with the other children?"
"no, thank you. i like sitting here."
as she left the room, my dad said, "that was a rhetorical question."
ever the advocate for children, my dad didn't even suggest i leave my spot at the adult table. he always took me places with him and never dropped me off at a children's table, or sent me to bed alone because i was a child and "supposed to be in bed." instead, i remember that i once fell asleep at a table in a restaurant, with my arms on the table and my head in my arms. it made me feel safe to always be with my dad.

how do i segue from rhetorical questions to my visit with brad and denise? i don't know.
and that wasn't one.
i spent a lovely weekend in san luis obispo, about three weeks ago. one morning, we went to have breakfast at the madonna inn. something neither of us had done before, despite all having lived there for years. it looks like a casino inside. fantasy world. exceptionally fancy red velvet damask wallpaper.
when we left, we took a photo. were this the year 1989, we would have taken a photo and left.
but, 'tis the year 2009, so of course, we used a digital camera. and of course, we had to look at the photo after we took it. of course, we found things wrong with it. three people in the picture, three opinions on what didn't look right. let me take you on this little journey i shall call "three faces, five photos":
 

"nah."



"no."



"nnnno."
 

"getting there."
 

"this is it!"
 

if you are now asking yourself the rhetorical question, why would she post a photo of herself with a double chin, for all the world to see?, then worry not, i will answer this rhetorical question for you.
it's because to me, two chins are nothing. no one has said it to my face, but i have heard the phrase "more chins than the chinese phone book."
 

or is this what they call a turtle neck?
a turkey neck?
excuse me!
i'm a vegetarian!
 

ok, that's not really me.
i suppose you knew because
1. i didn't iron my ruffled blouse so i'm not wearing it today, and
2. my hair is not that long yet.

now here's one from the realism period.
i'm calling it:
 

"Eyes With No Makeup Under Hair With No 'Do"
 

but up the hill from there, it was less artificially old, more old because old, and pretty, and colorful, happy, taken care of; in other words, my kind of place.
and with a couple that is worthy of being featured on this one of the best sites on the web.
 

central city also has its very own opera. and this here lady was asked if she was with the opera.
 

was it the hat, you might ask? no. it was the voice.
"hubbyyyyy," the lady shrieked.
 

"what, woman! what is it?"
"they said i have a shrill voice!"
"well. see what it says on the church over yonder?"
 

"wheeere? i can not seeeee!"
"there, woman! on that sign!"
 

freshly washed and brushed and airdried. i went to the dollar tree with earl the dog for the sole purpose of getting some shampoo and a hairbrush. since my brother accidentally took home my hair brush this summer, july, i haven't brushed my hair anymore. but it's barely long enough to do that now. and since i ran out of shampoo, hmmm.. some time in may, or april, i have washed my hair with water or water and soap only. today i felt like it's long enough to earn itself a shiny bottle of one-dollar shampoo and a very similar hairbrush.
so there you have it. washed with 2 pennies of shampoo, brushed, and air dried.
no madwoman-look stuff in it. yet.
i have to keep some suspense in here to keep my readership from dwindling.
not that it's big enough to even dwindle.