I'm still here. Really.

Yes. I’ve been silent for months. Well, in the blogiverse mostly. I’m rarely silent unless I’m sleeping. What have I been doing? Well… I’ve been writing books. I finished one and sent it off for editing. I’ve been working on a collaborative project with author Shéa MacLeod, which is in rewrites stage right now, and I am about two thirds through another novel. I’ve been pouring my creativity into my books. I have been given the unique gift of time; the first time since my little baby was born four years ago (Yes, he turned 4 last Thursday, I can hardly believe it). He has started preschool in earnest, which allows me nine hours a week to sit down at the local café (which is really like the town’s living room, it’s awesome), and to write freely. It’s been a while!

Playing with Friends Annie & baby Maxine

 So I am taking advantage of it. I have my crafty projects (and project-a-palooza) on hold for now. I have a desire to create pretty things with my hands, but I need to finish this novel and get these projects done before the end of the year so I have new releases for Comic-con in February. If you want to know more about these things, or more about the world of my writing, which is done separately from everything else under the nom-de-plume Miranda Mayer, please feel free to like my page on Facebook, or sign up for my newsletter from my website. I don’t email very often, only when I’m about to release something.

His first tournament.

School starts

 Other big news is I have stepped away from the group I founded, the Oregon Regency Society. I did it for a variety of reasons, but what it came down to was that there were constant issues with drama, unkind gossip being flung by people who were supposedly my friends, returned to me by people everyone respects and who were then called liars by said gossips. There was also a problem common to groups like these, and that is people with input but no actual action. There was the old problem of people who take on too much, and then cannot take responsibility for not following through, and who spew blame instead. Bottom line, it just wasn’t fun anymore. I’d been through this kind of thing once before, and I just didn’t have it in me to weather the drama to try and fix what had been poisoned. So I have cast it off the shore into the hands of others, and wish the best for it. As long as the people who have maligned and vilified me continue to be involved, I will not. I might try to play with friends again someday, and I already miss so many people, but for now, I need to just focus my energy on things that are fulfilling to me. Like my child, my creative outlets and well… me. My mental health needs to be important too.

Chilling behind my table at the Rose
City Comic Con. He's pretty deft
with the iPad.

 So I’m here, prepping for the holidays. My son’s paternal grandfather has been struggling with stage 4 cancer. My son has Bronchitis, and so does my husband, and as grandpa’s immune system is compromised by Chemotherapy, we cannot go to their home for Thanksgiving. It’s kind of sad, because my mother-in-law has been really having a rough time dealing with all of this, and to top it off, she has painful arthritis in her hip. I was going to go and help her cook the meal so she wouldn’t be miserable the whole day. But we can’t put Grandpa John in danger. So I will be cooking a small thanksgiving meal for the three of us here at home.

School time.

Waiting to go to class.

 Alex had his fourth birthday party on Saturday. He had a wonderful time, and Stephie made him the most beautiful Paw Patrol cake in history. He was so fixated on the cake, it was hilarious. It’s amazing to think that the child we never expected is now four years old. It’s crazy. It’s too fast! I wish there was a rewind button so I could go through it all again. Even the colic and the teething.

So the holidays approach. I imagine you all have plans for them. I’m excited about Christmas. More than ever since we had Alex, and this year, it’s the first year where he has as much anticipation as a child should have, and I’m excited to put the tree up with him, and to decorate the house. I intend to do it after Thanksgiving, come what may. The earlier the better. Considering how awful this year has been, we need some damned goodwill in this country. Even if there are battles to be fought still.

Class is over!

Feeding the gulls in Astoria.

 Oh! I found a kitten. So we now have another cat. She’s fecking cute. I might be a little allergic to her, but how do you tell your kid, sorry, no cat. So I’ll just manage with it. She’s a brat. So I appreciate that about her. Anyhoo, I will try to be better about snarking, crafting and journaling as I go. I won’t have any new costume posts for a while, I’m afraid. I don’t really have any desire to participate in events right now, so I don’t have any reason to sew new Regency things. But the lark may come where I will want to make a hat or whatever. So who knows? Maybe I’ll arrange a non-related event just so I can play with the people I want to play with. Time will tell.

New BFFs.

My girls started laying. Two were killed by raccoons. Hubby
shored up the enclosure, and my friend Molly gave me a couple
hens to replace my lost ones.

Halloween spookiness.

The kitten (Peppercorn), has claimed Simon as her
personal bed.

My little lion trick-or-treating homes for the first time.

Bratty McKatten

Everything Paw Patrol for his party

Kitty McAssface Von Kattenstein.

Taekwondo

The lovely cake by Just a Dash cakes (aka auntie Steph)

I’m off to forage for Thanksgiving ingredients and such, in spite of my sinus infection. See you on the flip side folks! I’ve missed this.

A real post for a change but still with 365s

I’m not going to minced words—I’ve been struggling with keeping my eyes and nose above the water level this past year. I hate that I now sound like one of those people who annoyed me to no end talking about their medical issues; “Oh, my sciatica is just killing me these days….” And “The migraines are just incapacitating…”

I’ve developed a bit of a soul over the past having been humbled by the development of my own medical issues. The anxiety has become a part of my life I can no longer ignore and it has made my already hermity and anti-social nature even worse. I’m on medication, naturally, it’s now a regular part of my routine. It has helped normalize me as far as it can. But it does not stop the insomnia, the constant self-censure, the insecurity, the sense of helplessness and it has made my RLS so bad at night that sometimes I cannot sleep at all because my legs feel like they want to run off the bed. Anxiety sucks balls. I have been working to be better; forcing myself out of the house, and all those things. I’m getting better, but it’s up and down.

I have little to no interest in the regency stuff right now. I love being around my ‘peeps’ when I’m with them, but revving up my motivation to even participate is so hard. I try. I go to things, but honestly, most of the time I just don’t want to. I hope that passion comes back. It was awesome and I miss it. I am also pushing myself to finish my newest book and get it to the editing process. It’s easier to focus on that because it’s part of being creative and I’ve been missing that very much since Alex was born. I think the inability to use the creative outlets I have has probably contributed to my anxiety and depression issues. I have been ruminating on how little I’ve posted on my blog these past months besides my 365s. I’m amazed I’ve kept up with them as long as I have. I think I might make the full year! I confess the weeks after my trip to Florida, I did flag a bit, but I was overcome with a hideous case of giardia (NEVER.AGAIN.OMG), and I wasn’t in any shape to do anything, so a few photos were taken on the same day or many over a few days to catch up. Some are also out of sequence.

In the meantime, I decided I need to write something serious. I’m not quite back to my snarky self yet, she’s coming, I’m sure, but since I do go just about everywhere in this blog, I figured my next rant will fit right in. My rant is about the state of the world right now. About terrorism and refugees. It’s about the privilege of being a detached and indifferent American. Privilege comes in many forms. In the United States, especially. And there is an additional privilege that I think (and this is my own conjecture alone) is part of the reason why Americans are so quick to jump into war.

You see, the USA has enjoyed a charmed existence compared to Europe and other parts of the world; at least when it comes to war. That doesn’t mean I’m in any way diminishing the losses from either world wars, the Korean war, Vietnam etc. What I mean is that the USA has frequently found itself sending its sons and daughters overseas to fight on foreign soil, but with the exception of Pearl Harbour, the USA has seen little to no really intense war action on its own soil -- since the civil war.

Why this is relevant is because, for example, in Europe, especially the UK, France etc, there is a very fresh, short memory of the last war that ravaged the countryside. World War I and World War II were devastating. Landmarks decimated, millions killed and injured, cities bombarded continuously. The US arrived late into both of these fracases, and they sustained comparably fewer losses than most of the world-war countries. It took the direct engagement of American interests to even get them fully involved.

But war is profitable, and the US has since been at war almost continuously ever since; but American civilians have never experienced a blitz in their back yards. They aren’t still digging up live ordnance from the soil. They don’t have graveyards upon graveyards laid out like a quilt of nations, filled with the bodies of the dead taken down in their towns and villages.

The atrocities of war are a real thing for most of Europe still, and for many countries, they are a thing people are living with every day. And it’s our privilege as Americans to dismiss this because we don’t have any recent experience that can help us empathize and relate to what other people might be enduring. We have become a nation of insensitive fools because of it.’

9/11 only took 3000 lives, and yet it hit such a raw nerve, the country went into a collective state of shock, and turned to fear and xenophobia instead of defiance; as the countries who understand conflict directly do. We sent out our sons and daughters to fight on our behalf on the soil of countries not even related to the acts performed on that day, but somehow it soothed our collective fears to know someone was dying for what happened to us.

Imagine, if you will, how the US would react if it was pummeled like France or Britain in WWII. Imagine what real conflict would be like. Most Americans cannot. Their lawns remained meticulously pruned and their daily lives were largely unaffected by the succession of wars since the Civil War. The loss of their sons was a sufficient price to pay for this peace; while their children wreaked havoc on foreign soil on behalf of our government. We are attacked and we send a couple of massive thermo-nuclear devices and watch it from afar. We have grown arrogant and cocky because of this. We believe ourselves untouchable; while realizing deep down that we aren't, and feeling the fear of that bubbling up.

The Syrian refugees are fleeing violence that most American people cannot even begin to relate to. They don’t want to. They’ve never had their homes mortared. Their grandparents haven’t sat with them to recount how their homes were taken over by invading forces, and how certain people were taken away for their beliefs and killed in massive death camps. Americans were rationing stockings. That was the hardship the home-front suffered—while the eastern hemisphere literally burned.

So privilege it is. Even if we lost sons for the sense of near arrogance; the lack of humility and the zest for confrontation, as long as it’s not on American soil.

The attacks in Paris only made France more defiant. There is an element of fear, don’t get me wrong, but the predominant response in the country is FUCK YOU TERRORISTS you are not going to change our way of life. In the US, the mere whisper of terrorism means shouts to close borders and to turn away refugees; it means brown people being persecuted for being brown, and people buying more guns and bigger cars. The privilege of fear.

It’s upsetting to me how the USA has turned from a country of greatness and goodness to one of fear and paranoia. I can see where it happened, and where it continues to happen, and as long as we foster this culture of fear, we have allowed the terrorists (note how 'terror’ is part of this word)  to achieve their ends. A small faction of extremists, having such a powerful effect that it stuns an entire nation into fear… crazy isn’t it?  Americans merely wash the muslims with a sweeping generalized term of terrorists, and imagine millions of brown skinned people hoping to destroy the west—instead of even opening their ears to the fact that ISIS is about the same threat as the next five or six mass shooters that have attempted to enact their own terror in this country, but somehow not instilled that same level of fear.

Here is what’s true: You are more likely to be shot by a police officer than you are being harmed by a muslim extremist.  You are WAY more likely to be shot by your OWN gun in your OWN home (or someone in your household) than you are being harmed by a muslim extremist. That is just the truth. And fearing the Syrian refugees… well, that’s like fearing meteors falling on your head. With the intensive vetting process, no self-respecting extremist would bother. It’s easier to just hop on a plane and come as a tourist. And heck, it’s easy enough for them to get a gun here, so there you go.

You can crow until the cows come home about your security but you don’t know what being in danger is. Not compared to the Syrians. Even the French can claim the privilege of far better security than that of the truly afflicted nations like Syria and Lebanon.

And finally, a salient point here... We built this. As much as many Americans like to avoid responsibility for the consequences of our global actions, we have to face it; as a nation we have a duty to start fixing the disasters our policies and war mongering have caused. And if that means finding ways to support the hundreds of thousands of people fleeing their war-torn homes, then that is what we should do. If we risk a terrorist event in our country doing it, then so be it. Honestly, it’s not like we don’t already have our own home-grown terrorists who do much greater damage. Between the mass shootings and the church burnings and all the other crap going on, why are we focusing on ISIS? Is it that we fear that they will bring war to our back yards? Imagine that.

This is my next set of 365s for you. Enjoy.

301/365

302/365

303/365

304/365

305/365 - I got this cat in 1984 for my birthday.
He's one of the few things I have from my
childhood. Alex is giving this old dude
a run for his money.

306/365 - I took this pic with my husband's phone. It's Halloween.

307/365

308/365

309/365

310/365

311/365

312/365

313/365

314/365 

315/365 - Happy third birthday baby boy,

316/365

317/365

318/365

319/365

320/365

Nuptials, family and a stays win!

There was a wedding a few weeks ago. And good god what a wedding it was. Such drama. Weddings seem to be more drama than anything else anymore, now that there was some sort of universal permit given to brides to be complete spoiled rotten brats and congratulated and cajoled for it. “Oh, it’s *her* day, it’s okay,” they say. “She’s got so much on her mind.”

Sunflowers were the theme. Lots and lots and lots and lots of sunflowers.

I allow for brides to be overwhelmed and stressed out. That’s okay. But to be rude and obnoxious? Why is that okay? It’s just not. My wedding day was a stressful drama-filled mess. My mom had arrived at the venue, and our attempt to keep her and another family member from the booze by foregoing a bar at the reception was made pointless because she and that other family member went straight up to the Ramshead bar on the third floor.  She was already buzzed by the time I and the bridesmaids got there, and had already insulted several members of the in-law family, and promptly lost my veil and corset, which made the wedding very late while everyone went in search of it (she never came to my room when I was dressing, she was too busy outside smoking).  During ALL that time, and with all this bullshit and hurt feelings and other crap going on, I never once snapped at anyone, was rude to anyone, or even made a spectacle of myself or cried (except when I saw my hubby at the end of the aisle). I was a polite, somewhat nervous bride and I was not an asshole to anyone.

But brides these days seem to have it in their head that it is somehow open season on everyone the moment they get the engagement ring on their finger to act like complete horses’ asses.  They invite people to participate in the wedding party, most of the time at their own expense and then heap abuse and nastiness on them to boot. This bride was a passive-aggressive drama queen at times. Tears flowed because things didn’t work out as expected even though she never communicated her expectations; episodes of malicious snottiness because something didn’t go her way, obsessing and being nasty about stupid things, and then barking orders like a task mistress.  Worse, her mother and sister and their respective husbands were really just plain rude and obnoxious too.  The wedding guests were 95% on the bride’s side, and the small percentage on the groom’s side (including my husband who was the best man) were treated like crap. They were censured for not wearing the right colours, for changing out of clothes too soon in spite of being told it’s okay, for not knowing if or when there would be toasts made, in spite of none of those things being communicated to the bridal party. My sister-in-law Jess was made to run errands for the wedding, but treated very much like an encumbrance and a peripheral, and while the bride’s family members had corsages made for them and were included in things, my sister-in-law was left to be insulted about her hair, (I need you to do *something* with that hair…) and to being ignored or barked at to do one thing or another without an ounce of consideration, politeness or couth.

I think the worst part of it was, after the ceremony ended, all the guests were left to stand out in the searing heat with very little shade and barely anywhere to sit for a full hour and a half while the bride and groom ‘rested’.  A little basic organization would have made all these dramatic moments much better. A meeting with the bridal party telling them the schedule of the wedding and what the expectations were, for instance. Letting people into the reception venue but not putting food out so the guests could sit down and cool off. Instead of waiting for the chairs to be brought in by the staff and set up, have the guests grab a chair or two as the ceremony ended and bring them inside would have been much quicker and offered some consideration for the people they invited. Obviously, the bride was concerned about her comfort alone, and more worried about her experience than she did about making this event pleasant for everyone, and also, being considerate enough to treat the people who she was now attaching herself to as new family with more grace and kindness.  But I saw from the mother and sister that grace and kindness might not be within their capacity.  They were really just a couple of rude classless boors. Sorry, but that’s the impression they gave by the way they treated the groom’s mother, sister, brother and other family.  I’m surprised the groom himself came out of it unscathed, honestly. 

Seeing the behavior of the bride on her special day is a very stark glimpse into the kind of person she really is, and the kind of people her family really is. And it doesn't bode well, in all truth.  If she is that self-absorbed for one event, what does that mean for the rest of the marriage?  Well, it’s none of my worry… I didn't marry her. I don’t have to live with her or her family. Thank god. ::oy::

The décor was rented for a couple of grand, and it was so profuse and overdone that there was barely room on the tables for plates. LOL. But hell, who cares? The memories were for her alone. I was nice, and polite, in spite of the ridiculous drama, and took lots of pictures between trying to wrangle my overheated, overtired baby.

My boys.

Enough about that.  More important things have been going on. My sister and brother came into town to spend some time with my mom.  They showed up last Tuesday and were on a plane Friday morning. But it was a nice visit.  This is the first time I've seen my eldest brother in sixteen years.  He’s aged a smidge. He’s 57. He’s very youthful looking though, and god, he looks SO much like my father, it is almost painful to look at him. The same face, the same head of hair, the same flash-point temper and passionate interchange.  I needled him just so I could see those flashes of papa, I confess, but he played along quite well. I was all ready to be pissed off at him, but the moment I saw him walking up, I just lost it. I cried and clutched onto him and kissed his cheeks and hugged him again.

Istvan holds Baby J so I can eat a bit.
His profile... ugh. He is the spitting image
of my father.

My sister Anna finally got to meet Baby J. I’m not sure if he ever seemed really real to her in spite of all the pictures. She was kind of detached I think, until she saw his little face in person. We met at a really great Chinese seafood market/restaurant (Istvan wanted to have some good Asian food while in Oregon, of which there is no shortage, thank GOD). She basically glanced at me as she walked in, pretty much pushed me aside and bee-lined for the high chair where Alex was then assaulted with affection. She pretty much loved on him at every possible moment after that for the duration of her stay. He was so attached to her by Thursday night, when I was in bed breastfeeding, she came in for something (they rented the vacation cabin next door, which was kind of cool!), and when she tried to leave, Alex cried. She came back, he was happy, then turned away to walk out, he cried. I had to distract him so she could make her escape.

My sister Anna and Alex. She was feeding him little bits of Tofu from her soup.

I moved mom to a rehab, where she is to stay for a bit until we can figure out a different kind of living situation for her. They had nice visits with mom for three days.  Anna will be back in October, we rented a beach house in Long Beach Washington and are going ot have a little week-long reunion with us, and include husbands and such. Istvan wasn't part of the original plan, but I do hope he comes; although I confess I don’t really have a good feeling about his wife, who hates the liberal that I am. LOL. That’s not about to change, so live with it, I say.

In other news, I took my new stays out for a test drive this weekend. We had a demonstration event at a senior housing facility on Saturday, where Nora taught about tea, and I called a couple of simple dances for seniors to watch. My stays were unbelievable! This is the first set of stays where I did not experience some measure of discomfort. The tightness on the rib cage, the weight on the shoulders… I experienced none of that. I moved and danced, my breasts were comfortably held aloft, they were separated by the busk (a carpenter’s pencil, LOL), I was more comfortable than when in a standard bra, I am not exaggerating.

One boob is definitely puffier than the other... those are the pitfalls of
breastfeeding. Alex sometimes favours one for the other, hence the
imbalance. LOL.

The extra gusset was the trick. It made the stays a lot less confining, and the looseness that’s in the body of the stays made no difference since the waistline and cups were doing their job.   These are the best stays I've ever had, and I will be posting a pattern for you plus sized (18-22) ladies with D, DD, and DDD cups. I wager it could probably hold some Es and Fs too, if the gussets are slightly widened.  I took these pictures when I completed them. I was using a standard #2 pencil as a busk then, and they were already doing great. But a day of use has proven to be the stays I've been working towards since 2007.

Yay!

Update by insomnia

Anyone want this dumb-ass dog?

Let's see... we shall begin with a gripe. Why not? It is so ... me... isn't it? Anyhow, anyone who wants Simon, let me know. He's a stupid dog and I'm going to kill him one of these days. Don't get me wrong, I love my animals with all of my heart, but I love my kid more. And Simon has taken to being a bit of a territorial dick lately, and now that Alex is army crawling everywhere he can possibly go, Simon is averse to the mobility of this little interloper. He has twice already, growled and snapped at Alex. He has growled at him several times.  If it happens again, he is going to a Jack Russell Terrier rescue or something, I kid you not.  If he bites or connects with Alex, I won't even be able to describe where he's going because I'll be seeing red.

He isn't a mean dog. He's just stupid, and part of the problem is us.  We were a childless couple for many years, and nothing's worse for a pet than being owned by people who are substituting children for animals in order to satisfy their innate need to parent.  And these dogs just don't know that they've been knocked down a tier on the totem pole. They still think they're the kids. And they look at Alex like he's an equal; or worse, a puppy, lower than them and in need of their discipline and subject to their territory.  Well, that's got to end or else.  Simon, you flokati rug with a flapping tongue... I love you, but if you bite my baby, you may be stuffed into a box and sent downriver.

***Update: I am NOT getting rid of my stupid dog. I promise. Simon is an idiot of the highest degree, but he is also a member of this strange little family.  Yes, I go into stupid irrational mode when he does stuff, but I know that if he was mean, he'd have gone after the baby and not bothered to warn him. I know this breed very well--Satan bred them for years. I am afraid he may connect with Alex, but I am watching the baby (who is obsessed with Simon btw, because he reallyreallyreally wants to just grab onto that floofy fur) and making sure he leaves the derpy doofus alone). I was venting, as I always do. I am glad I have my husband and my readers to remind me that I'm being an irrational idiot.  But I don't dump my animals because they're being bratty. I'm a brat, and that would be hypocritical. And the reason he's a brat is our fault.

Our dinner on Saturday night. Trout and lemon/white wine Orzo.
It was pretty damned good.

Dan and I have been watching Alex's growth and development. He is moving more and more into solids, and eats more almost every day. His favourite remains sweet potato (yams) and vanilla Greek yogurt. But I also force him to eat things he doesn't like as much, like squash and peaches and banana. He's also started holding his little cookies and eating them on his own, in spite of having no choppers yet.  But we see how healthy he is, and our family doctor told us he is doing great and is very healthy. So we have decided to follow his example and to cut meat out of our diet (we may lapse occasionally... but as a mean, we will no longer eat cow, pig or chicken, or anything land-based that walks.  We will keep eating fish, and eating dairy (milk/eggs) at least for now.  I've even tried my hand at making seitan from unbleached regular flour and found that it's really pretty damned good.  So far, we are doing okay.

I did not gain any weight through my pregnancy, gaining only 17 pounds, which were taken out on 11/17 when they extracted my little critter-baby.  I actually lost a couple of pounds by the time I went to my 1-month postpartum appointment.  And for a while, I was great, happily larking along while breastfeeding, imagining myself sylph-like from the extra calories burned from breastfeeding.  But I have gained about 11-12 pounds back because I am out of control eating.  Both of us have fallen off the Weight Watchers wagon.  Dan, poor fellow, did so when I was pregnant. It was impossible really for him to keep holding on when I was in pregnancy mode, eating anything and everything I wanted at any given time of day. It's hard to keep on a diet when the person you're with is an eating machine and exposing you to all the naughty things you love so much.  So he's put on about fifteen pounds.  He's lost a few since we started this pseudo-vegetarian/pescatarian menu of ours.

A glut of fruity tarts.

Take the above photo for instance.  The fruit tart is Dan's most very much super happy gimme more favourite food I make. It's a pâte sucrée with vanilla custard in it, and then topped with fruit and berries (namely bananas and strawberries, but sometimes -- as with most recently this weekend, blueberries and raspberries too).  Dan likes to dollop some freshly whipped cream on it and pound those suckers down like candy.  I made him some for Father's day... it's his first Father's day, so he deserved it.  But then on Saturday, we went by our local fruit stand and bought a pile of berries and voila... more tarts.  Naughty us.

Flower's immediate reaction when taken out into extreme heat
is to plop down on the gravel in full sun and bake,
moving only to flip over when she's cooked enough on one side.

Oregon is sickeningly warm right now. It's not ideal. I like my bouldery grey days with dreary rain and sopping trees dripping in soaked garlands of tree-moss and air plants.  This summer crap is for the birds. If I wanted to live in a Turkish steambath, I'd move to Florida or California or something. ::sigh:: I hate summer.  I can't WAIT for September.  By then we should also be preparing to visit my sister in Pensacola so she can finally meet her nephew.  If we don't, she probably won't meet him until he's graduating from MIT. Yay! Air travel with a child! Woohoo!  His other auntie moved from Middle of Nowhere, Oregon to Bend, Oregon, and now that she no longer needs to drive to Portland to buy the essentials, she hasn't seen him since January, and expects me to make the three hour drive to her home with the little one in the car. So, the burden is on me to bring the child to them. Always for their convenience I guess. Sisters. Oy.  What a pain in the ass they can be.  They are my only true and involved family however, so I do need to put up with their sisterly shenanigans after all.  Even if they make me crazy.

Isn't my little boy just f*&!ing beautiful? I think so.
You should have seen how excited he was to ride in the carriage
and be free to look around and see everything. It was SO CUTE.

I am at present working to make more items for the sale on August 3. I'll take pictures of my sale table when it's all set up to share. I also plan to make a gown for the Pittock Mansion Picnic the last Sunday of July.  I haven't made something new for myself in eons.  I also want to make one of my bib-fronts and a draw-string from my pattern (see previous post) to sell so I have some samples.  I will have to find a model to wear them prettily so I can take photos.

We (the Oregon Regency Society) had a great event up at Hood River on June 1 & 2.  We went there to sail on the tall ship (the Hawaiian Chieftain) and to take tea, and hang about and go picnicking. We had some gripers complaining that the event was costly, but we managed to buy out the entire ship, so I guess it wasn't so bad. LOL.  People also came up to join us the next day for a picnic in a wonderful lavender garden. It was really fun.  I'm trying to push more people to set up events for the rest of the year, so I don't have to stress it so much, but it's hard. Everyone has lives too.  I will *try* to set up a ball at least for the end of the year, and some more smaller events.  The ORS is chugging along, not without drama, but definitely getting more oiled as a machine as the team coalesces and starts working together. Pretty soon, I'll be able to step back some more I hope.  Let people handle their own things, and not call on me.  I want to be able to just show up to events sometimes like everyone else does. It would be nice.  Now I've got el niño to worry about.

Anywho... that's my blah update for today.  My creativity is returning, so I imagine I'll start posting some drawings again at some point. But for now, I have all these projects to complete.  So bear with me.