"If you can't be pretty, you might as well cause trouble" – Florence King
Dec 11th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Alternatively, it seems Antonia of “Yet Another Blooming Blog” wrote up a useful how-to. Sort of.
Given the right mood and equipment, this can be remarkably effective:
As you can see, it results in complete gratification for at least one participant.
Dec 9th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Well, I completely forgot about logging in and posting anything yesterday.
Pretty much this is what the bulk of my day consisted of. Pressure-cooking beans.
Then Joel and I went out to dinner, came back home, and watched Smokey And The Bandit, which Joel had borrowed from the library.
Today, I began the annual holiday Gonzo Baking Extravaganza.
These are from the cookie press. They’re little pine trees, flavored with Mint extract. I’ll be covering them with a green icing glaze and festooning them with a scattering of multicolored sprinkles once I get some green food coloring and some sprinkles.
Besides that, here’s a video that shows the extremely silly facial expression my dog makes when you give her a cream-cheese wrapper to lick clean.
Dec 7th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Some freakin’ jackwagon gang-tagged the shed behind Nancy’s house last night at some point between 5:00 p.m. and 11:00 p.m.
So, Joel and I went down to our basement lair, gathered up every partial can of spray-paint left over from every bicycle we’ve redecorated in the past decade, and fixed that shit.
It’s not 100% complete, of course, but it’s what you might consider an improvement.
And if I ever catch anyone fucking with any of our sheds again, by gosh and by golly, I’ma gonna hit ‘im with a brick.
Also, I am not what you would consider a tidy painter:
Dec 6th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Because I was working on this
You may well ask what in the name of heck it is, and I will answer that question right away.
It should be, with a bit of good fortune, a waistcoat made out of six neckties braided together.
To make it, you line up three neckties parallel to each other, then weave three more neckties in at the top and bottom, pin them, and then whipstitch them together along the long edges (except in the middle where your head will go). It’s held shut at the sides with buckles and gros-grain ribbon tapes.
Fine, fine, if you want proper instructions, here’s what the Bernina Creative Sewing Magazine, Autumn/Winter 1994/5 tells you to do:
Easy-peasy, right?
Well, we shall see how it will look when it’s all done but I must say I am enjoying the look of the silks together. I’m being very careful in whipstitching the ties together so that if I should ever wish to restore them to necktie use, I can pick them back apart without too much effort.
Two of the ties I found alongside the road yesterday when I was riding home from a pre-employment drug screen. The rest are either from Calvert or Jeff; both are gentlemen who have bestowed upon me a fair number of neckties and other accouterments of formal office-wear that no longer pertain to their daily lives.
I tell ya what, if I didn’t bike so much, I wouldn’t find half the free shit I find. Seriously, I could start a whole blog about stuff I’ve found while riding.
Hey, if I run thin of topics this month, I know what to do!
Dec 5th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Thanks to the kindness and generosity of Ms. Jacquie, I am now in possession of a mysterious Jacques Fath suit which probably dates to the early or middle 1950s. I make this estimate because Fath went out of business in ’57 and didn’t have a US-based boutique until after WWII.
As you can see, the silhouette is not in strict conformity with the New Look figure. The jacket is, in fact, quite blousy, and the skirt is essentially a narrow A-line. It is missing a belt which would have nipped it in at the waist a bit. If I had a narrow black belt, I would style it with a belt and see how the silhouette is affected, but alas I do not. I will be visiting a thrift shop soon, so I will look around for an approximately thumb-width belt for it.
A 3/4 side view confirms the loose-fit of the jacket. When the front is hooked up, I can slide it off the dummy without unhooking anything. The waist of the skirt fits me, so it is approximately a modern US size 6.
The back of the jacket sports three pleats; one on each side at the waistline, and a long pleat down center back which is tacked at shoulderblade level and waist level.
One of the really fascinating aspects of this jacket is that is essentially cut in three pieces (not counting the two-piece collar and facing) and given shape with pleats and darts. There are underarm gussets to allow for range of motion in the raglan sleeves.
Additional ease is provided along the back at the shoulder level by three tiny darts:
The waist definition is provided entirely via small, tacked down pleats: four in front and four in back.
I think the jacket looks kind of cute with the collar turned up.
When the collar is laying flat it reminds me of the suit jackets ladies wore just after World War I.
If anyone happens past who knows more about this particular style, please feel free to speak up.
Dec 4th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Before.
Progress continues over at my mother-in-law’s house. Pretty soon we’ll be able to begin on re-configuring it.
I’ll try to find my grid paper and draw out the original configuration of the house, how it was before I began demolition, and how it will be when it is done. But for now, feel free to marvel at the godawful mess I have wrought.
Dec 3rd, 2012 by Meetzorp
I’ve been just rotten with the follow-through on this blog. Seriously. Couple of days ago I promised to rant about meditation, and there was something else I planned to write about and forgot to. Anyway, since I’ve got a lot of writing ahead of me, and my ideas have been a little thin on the ground, I reckoned it wouldn’t be a bad idea to fill in a few gaps as I’ve left them.
The biggie as I see it at the moment, was the No Gas Nationals, which I’d provided a photo-laden lead-up to and then never came back to write up. So, heeeeeeere goes.
The day broke soggy and overcast and proceeded to unleash occasional bouts of torrential rain.
Our bodies may have been soaked, but our spirits weren’t dampened:
The variety of machinery present was staggering. There were racers in the trike style:
A couple were based off old go-kart chassis:
Others were clearly old bicycles modified for a low-slung seating position:
Or in the case of Tylorrrrr, it was a new cargo bike hastily defiled for the special occasion:
Also represented were:
A wheelbarrow and some bits of an old riding lawn mower.
Parts of an old rototiller, wheelchair, kiddie bike, and tractor seat.
The Radio Flyer every kid dreamed of.
A fantastic contraption based around an old crib frame.
Renner’s famous coffin car.
My Monstrosity.
And this:
Some fantastic loon from Lawrence had constructed this out of the remains of an accordianmobile art-car project.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/dantonpix/536566175/
So the tiny children’s bike up front really and actually was the steering. And the car’s stock brakes were still intact and functioning, so it stopped quite nicely actually.
To get it back up the hill, the owner just hitched it to a pickup, and it towed tidily.
You might wonder how it went:
Surprisingly well, actually.
As you can see, the prizes were handcrafted from the finest quality old bike parts and random gizmos. They were FANTASTIC. Especially the People’s Choice Award, a lovely shrine built out out a couple of old bike wheels, hundreds of silk flowers, and a light-up B.V.M.
You cannot tell me that this is not a work of freakin’ glory.
Joel wore his infamous Speedo, motorcycle crash helmet and knee pads.
Safety third, you know.
Joel, Tylor, and Speedy placed first, second, and third respectively, and Richard quite rightfully claimed the People’s Choice award.
Capital “K” classy.
And if you want more, there are more videos and photos on the Flickr set I made for the occasion.
I’m totally looking forward to this foolishness again next year!
Dec 2nd, 2012 by Meetzorp
I might as well make it as enjoyable as possible.
This is my basic operating philosophy for most of the things that I do. For example, I am obligated by the mores of society to wear clothing, so I do my best to have as much fun with fashion and style as possible. The same thing applies with food. I have to eat anyway, so I like to cook well, to experiment with replicating recipes for things I’ve tried elsewhere and liked, etc.
I think this is a pretty common approach actually. Why else would we have scented soap? You can get just as clean with saponified sludge made of lye from wood-ash cooked up with rendered suet.
Likewise the whole notion of options. We could all have one-speed bicycles, painted flat black, with fenders, medium-wide tires, and a squeaky-sprung leather seat. But perhaps I don’t like the leather seat; you want slim racing tires, and the fellow across town thinks fenders are for weenies. Or cars. We didn’t have to progress from the Tin Lizzie – the old Model T fulfilled the requirements of reasonable reliability, ease of maintenance, and accessible purchase price. It came in a size to fit almost every family. But people wanted comfort, style, and fun, and even Ford had to concede that people didn’t want just utility; they wanted enjoyment, too.
Because I can be inclined to be a bit of a pessimist, I try to keep in mind the enjoyable things that I get to do every day, the pleasures I look forward to as occasional treats, and big events that will be big fun. It helps me keep perspective and not dwell on the stuff that sucks.
Nov 30th, 2012 by Meetzorp
Not necessarily referring to “Permission to say ‘cock'” but permission to suck, as referenced in the article linked…here. I just get an inordinate amount of amusement from strong invective, especially as uttered by Top Gear’s own Captain Slow.
So, the other day I was kind of freaking out because I signed up for another of those ridiculous blogging challenges to post something every day, which, as anyone who ever looked at my archives would surmise, is not my strong suit. In fact, months and weeks can go by and I can ignore this website quite avidly. In fact, when I realized that Holidailies doesn’t even start until 12-1, I complacently went back to neglecting my blog. In even more fact, I toyed with not even posting this entry until tomorrow, so as to have something to talk about on Day 1, but another fact is that I’d probably forget what I was going to say by then. I guess I’ll call this Day Zero.
As the Mythbusters sometimes say, “failure is always an option.”
Hell, I’ve pretty much forgotten what I was going to say already. I swear I’m getting more idiotic every day. Is there such a thing as Adult-Onset A.D.D? I think somebody else is controlling my brainmeats and quite badly, I might add. Also-also, because I use the word “brainmeats” frequently and Spell Check doesn’t like it, I’ve added it to the custom dictionary.
I suppose I should return to the point I started to make a few hundred words ago. Accepting personal suckitude.
A few years ago a co-worker and I had a conversation about participating in mediocrity. She is a perfectionist; I am an ex-perfectionist. She was talking about being frustrated by a yoga class she was taking because she was not yet very good, and her competitive spirit was thoroughly vexed. I allowed as how I used to be that way, but mountain biking broke me of the will to succeed.
I am a terrible mountain biker. Seriously wretched. I wreck all the time, I am slow as hell, and you can rely upon me to take the wrong turn after I get separated from the group I started out with. Minor contusions and dented pride nonetheless, I thoroughly enjoy mountain biking, shitty at it though I am. I accept that I’ll probably always be crap because I don’t go very often, I’m blind in one eye, and I’m not that committed to improving. I guess just the general enjoyable experience that is riding offroad through the woods is reward unto itself. Sure, some people race, some people win, and some people are Danny McAskill. Those people are pretty awesome and I admire their skills and dedication. But that doesn’t mean that I feel any pressure to try to emulate them. I’d just as soon occasionally fall off the back of my bicycle on a steep descent, clip my bars on a branch and tank headfirst into a tree, or spend more time taking pictures of fungus than riding my bike and have fun in my own way. Via mountain biking, I learned that it’s very possible to have a good damn time while being no good at all.
Up tomorrow – more inspiration from the above-linked article questioning the whole meditation thing.
My dumb-ass decided to do Holidailies this year. Because I obviously love life, like a Chicken Lady.
Goodness knows what I’m going to be telling all y’all, but for starters, I have been wreaking massive amounts of property damage on behalf of my beloved Mother-In-Law.
That’s all I have for now, but tune in tomorrow for the riveting tale of refurbishing an old Danish woodstove.
