Choking and Ouising

Even though my In Your Business B&B is still a few years down the road, it is never too early to start scouting out locations.

According to Hooked On Houses, Sally Field's home in Steel Magnolias is on the market in Lousiana for $1.175 million.

I know what you're asking.  

Are those beautiful pastel curtains from Shelby's bedroom still there?

You know it.  And impeccably preserved to boot. <Insert sigh of relief>

Current photo:

While perusing all the pictures, cinematic as well as current, I learned that the movie was based on a true story.

I could have done without that info.

It's like the universe just said, "Um, yeah, your Steel Magnolias snotty-ugly-cry isn't enough.  We are going to need you to have a complete emotional breakdown during the film.  Maybe even choke and shart a little bit."

I also learned that 'Ouiser' is not spelled 'Weezer'.  Who knew?

Isaac's Crib: A Place To Chill

Finally.  Isaac has a place that he can relax and put his feet up after a long night in the Talk Stick Casino poker room. 

Maybe listening to his Baby Queen CD.  Perhaps having a nightcap.

Always enjoying the sophistication of his solid wood, contemporary parlor chair.

I wish that I could tell you that I whipped up that chair last weekend.  But the truth is that Isaac's dad, Jeff, constructed it back in high school.

The chair is in impeccable condition.  The cushion that has been on it for the past 15 years?  Not so much.  We bought a foam piece and coordinating fabric and constructed a new removable cushion cover.

I was so proud of myself for perfectly lining up the fabrics for the front of the cushion.  I/m serious, my headband was cutting off circulation from pride swelling.

It should have dawned on me that something was off with my gloat parade when there were no kids lining the streets to catch candy.

Just five minutes after my triumphant fist pump routine, I realized that I had looked at the measurements incorrectly.  The width was really the length and I had put the zipper on the side and the new front was as far off as I could have gotten it.

Normally, I would take it apart and fix the error of my ways.

Jen said that she would punch me if I did because it wasn't visible anyway.

I left it.  And I wasn't fired.

There were quilt pieces leftover, so I put them together as a back pillow for the chair.

Or a head pillow - if Isaac decides that he just doesn't have it in him to go to his crib and calls it quits in his throne.

Tutorial I followed for sewing a box cushion cover:  Design Sponge  --- except that I put the zipper corner to corner instead of wrapping it around.

DIDon't: If the Glove Fits

DIY for yourself is one thing.

DIY as a gift for someone else is another.  And if not executed correctly, can turn the giver into the likes of Cinderella at The Central Perk.  Friendless and disenchanted.

I stress like crazy when I make someone a gift.  Do they really want or need something else?  A practical gift instead? Is this even their style? Do they actually have somewhere to store it?

Sometimes you are handed gift opportunities on a silver platter, like when A-drin Amy got married.  She sent a file of all her wedding plans, including the fabrics that she was using to masterfully DIY all her table runners and cloth accents.  I ordered her chosen fabrics and made a rag quilt throw as part of her wedding gift.  

Minimal stress because she essentially picked everything out for herself.

And sometimes we have DIY fails.  Many myself.  But today isn't about me.  

My friend, Michelle, is a 3rd grade teacher, hilarious, a breast cancer survivor and blindsides people with her angelically toned inappropriateness. 

On the last day of school she received a pair of personally knit fingerless Pink Ribbon gloves as a token of appreciation for taking such good care of their cherub, that we will call Bobby.

No, no.  Not Bobby Cute-and-Courteous.  Bobby Wanted-to-stab-classmates-in-the-heart-with-pens.

She wasn't even expecting a gift for keeping Bobby from being tried as an adult.  I mean, it is part of her job right?  And Arizonans need the fingerless gloves for when the temps dip to 65.  And I'm sure that breast cancer ass kickers then want everything they can get with a Pink Ribbon on it, right?

Let's be clear.  This is me judging.

I  have never been in the position of parenting, nor <praise sweet baby Jesus> of having the cops called on my 9-year-old bundle of psychosis at school.  But, I can say with confidence that if that does ever happen and I can't with all efforts subdue my desire to knit that teacher some fingerless gloves, then they will be gifted with either the chilliest vat of Chardonnay that I can find or encasing the most chiseled hunk of  burning love that the Phoenix Naked Masseur site has to offer.  Yes, if the glove fits then that is where he will wear them.

And lastly, sometimes your DIY gift is for a sister.  Don't lose a minute of sleep.  She will keep on loving you no matter what she thinks of the thong joggers.