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ysobellePhee arrived Friday night, and she and I proceeded to have an INCREDIBLY WILD NIGHT of sitting and watching home shows on HGTV. Woo. Such wild things, we are. And yes, I know, I missed VNV, which is something I NEVER NEVER thought I'd say. But I just didn't feel like fussing. Yes, there's more to it, but if you remember my stories, I'm sure you can figure it all out. I just didn't feel like silliness.
Saturday,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snugglyevil joined us, and we toured another lovely house. This one is in East Falls, half a block from the train station. It's very similar in layout to the last one-- almost identical, in fact. It has a more open layout downstairs, however, and even tinier bathroom, and a backyard that's not very secure at all. Also? It was last wallpapered in, oh, 1920 or so, and it shows. Even the ceiling. I kid you not. Still, lovely details, and I'm sure they'd give me something off the rent if I shredded that paper off the walls with projected maniacal glee. Phee volunteered herself and The Boys to come help. No wonder she watched all those shows with me. Woman after my own heart. There was a tiny summer kitchen in the back, with an ancient sideboard that must once have been glorious, but had been painted over so many times the paint was coming off in slabs. The catches on the drawers had delicate little herons on them, poking through the encrusted butter-yellow with an air of avian desperation. I'd almost rent the place just to get my hands on it. Phee took my hand and led me out into the yard to show me the "fairy dust!" in the dirt.
"I believe most people call that 'mica,'" I said.
"Oh, when did YOU get to be such a pill?" We giggled.
After a quick trip to Fabric Row--emalia, I have a swatch of off-white wool for you!-- and some tea at The Pink Rose, we three adjourned to my place, and bore down on Phee's wedding party's wardrobe. The Minis' vests are trimmed, though if there's time, I want to go back and fix a couple of bobbles. With the superior math power of the glory that is snugglyevil, five shirts are drafted, cut, and done but for the collars, cuffs, and hemming. I'm quite pleased. My back, however, is not. It's better than it was, though. Happily.
We finally called it a night around 2.30, and I headed for bed, where I proceeded to not sleep at all. I jerked awake every few minutes, had wretched dreams, and was all-around exhausted again in the morning. And hurty. Like the evil cow I am, I voted to bail on Erin's Slumber Party. Mea Culpa, and no girly toys for me. Alas. On the upside, however, I drafted another pattern, this time for Phee's skirt; I talked her into a train, and am Much Pleased. We cut a toile, and it worked perfectly. I am The Woman. Go on. Tell me I am. After THAT, I drafted yet one more pattern for her corset, and transferred it to pattern paper. Phee cut the lining, I cut the interlining and the glorous red silk velvet I'd crushed a few weeks ago. So it's all ready to get sewn but for the loops. In between all of this, Phee worked on The Boys' kilts. All in all, we got a metric assload of work done, and she left here a few minutes ago immensely relieved. She's absolutely not Bridezilla-- not in the least-- but the wedding is six weeks away, and she's starting to feel a bit stressed.
One more pattern to draft tonight, and then relaxing for a nice, long while.
Saturday,
snugglyevil joined us, and we toured another lovely house. This one is in East Falls, half a block from the train station. It's very similar in layout to the last one-- almost identical, in fact. It has a more open layout downstairs, however, and even tinier bathroom, and a backyard that's not very secure at all. Also? It was last wallpapered in, oh, 1920 or so, and it shows. Even the ceiling. I kid you not. Still, lovely details, and I'm sure they'd give me something off the rent if I shredded that paper off the walls with projected maniacal glee. Phee volunteered herself and The Boys to come help. No wonder she watched all those shows with me. Woman after my own heart. There was a tiny summer kitchen in the back, with an ancient sideboard that must once have been glorious, but had been painted over so many times the paint was coming off in slabs. The catches on the drawers had delicate little herons on them, poking through the encrusted butter-yellow with an air of avian desperation. I'd almost rent the place just to get my hands on it. Phee took my hand and led me out into the yard to show me the "fairy dust!" in the dirt. "I believe most people call that 'mica,'" I said.
"Oh, when did YOU get to be such a pill?" We giggled.
After a quick trip to Fabric Row--
emalia, I have a swatch of off-white wool for you!-- and some tea at The Pink Rose, we three adjourned to my place, and bore down on Phee's wedding party's wardrobe. The Minis' vests are trimmed, though if there's time, I want to go back and fix a couple of bobbles. With the superior math power of the glory that is snugglyevil, five shirts are drafted, cut, and done but for the collars, cuffs, and hemming. I'm quite pleased. My back, however, is not. It's better than it was, though. Happily.We finally called it a night around 2.30, and I headed for bed, where I proceeded to not sleep at all. I jerked awake every few minutes, had wretched dreams, and was all-around exhausted again in the morning. And hurty. Like the evil cow I am, I voted to bail on Erin's Slumber Party. Mea Culpa, and no girly toys for me. Alas. On the upside, however, I drafted another pattern, this time for Phee's skirt; I talked her into a train, and am Much Pleased. We cut a toile, and it worked perfectly. I am The Woman. Go on. Tell me I am. After THAT, I drafted yet one more pattern for her corset, and transferred it to pattern paper. Phee cut the lining, I cut the interlining and the glorous red silk velvet I'd crushed a few weeks ago. So it's all ready to get sewn but for the loops. In between all of this, Phee worked on The Boys' kilts. All in all, we got a metric assload of work done, and she left here a few minutes ago immensely relieved. She's absolutely not Bridezilla-- not in the least-- but the wedding is six weeks away, and she's starting to feel a bit stressed.
One more pattern to draft tonight, and then relaxing for a nice, long while.