The Albatross Takes Flight

I briefly thought of titling this post 'The SOB's Finished!' but that doesn't sound very nice.  Accurate, yes, but not nice.  Anyway, it's done, done, done!

What started out as this...

turned into this...

and finished up, thirteen months later, as this...

He nicely informed me he wouldn't be giving up the original quilt my mom made for him even though it's falling apart and she's been begging me to set it aflame just to put it out of its misery.  It's been well-loved.

I decided 'The Albatross' wasn't such a hot name for a quilt either so I opted for 'High Flight' after the poem of the same name by John G. Magee.  I love the poem and it fits with the theme since Magee was a pilot.

Here's the poem if you're curious.

HIGH FLIGHT

by John Magee

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings:

Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds--and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of--wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence.  Hovering there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air.

Up, up the long delirious, burning blue

I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace

Where never lark, or even eagle flew.

And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Happy quilting, y'all!

Totally Tearful Thursday...Pass The Kleenex

This morning, Captain Studly and class left for two days of adventure in south Texas, including a trip to tour NASA.  'Excited' does not begin to cover how enthusiastic he's been for WEEKS about this trip and getting away, even for just two days, from the old Ball and Chain (that would be me and Himself).  I can say with total honesty that The Diva does not miss him.  The dog will park her furry white hiney by the door until he's home.

Y'all, it is horribly quiet around here.  Although, at thirteen, he's become a functional mute (unless you count the grunts he now employs in lieu of actual verbalizing), at least I know he's still in the house.  As much as I grouse about all the crap he pulls and his eyeball rolling and his snarky teenage comments, I miss my Beanie.  If this is a precursor of what's to come when he leaves for college, I fear I'll have to knock over a convenience store or two..or ten.. to pay for all that Xanax.  Then again, I get that same feeling when I think he may never leave home.  It's true what men say...women are never satisfied.

He'll be back tomorrow night and I'll be back to bitching about everything Captain Studly, but in the meantime I am a sad sack.  And no, I haven't had my Xanax.  I'm saving it for college.

Y'all, I CLEANED OUT MY CLOSET TODAY AS A DISTRACTION.  Do you know there's actual carpet in there?  Is that a sign of a sick mind or what?!  I stopped myself before I snatched up the mop but it was a battle of epic proportion.

Okay, enough of that...here're some things currently in progress from my sewing corner.

That's me, before Captain Studly left, quilting the Albatross.  It's about 90% quilted and I cannot wait for it to be OH-VER!

I chose to quilt it with straight lines (I believe the modern quilters call them 'organic lines', however, I just call 'em straight...whatever works, right?) mainly because I can't free-motion quilt on my new boy-toy there in the picture.  Captain Studly's just grateful it's almost done.

I also have another rag quilt to snip and then it too will be finished.  Rag quilts are very forgiving and go together very quickly...love 'em!

Well, now that I've snivelled and whined a bit, I feel better. 

Happy Thursday, y'all!

Funky Number Thirteen

Break out the Clearasil and lock up your daughters 'cause Co-Defendant #1 is celebrating birthday number thirteen and is he ever excited!  Frankly, I think the kid just needs a straight-jacket...

This is what I get for saying 'Don't look like a serial killer!'

No longer does he want to be referred to as 'Co-Defendant #1'.  He's been working out (with a 5lb neon pink handweight...sigh) and bulking up for the babes he's sure will be knocking down our door at any moment.  He is...Captain Studly!

He still has somewhat of an aversion to soap and water and generally feels that dousing himself in Axe body spray counts as personal hygiene.  Somewhere out there is a clueless girl who will marry him (hey, I'm not gonna warn her!)...and hopefully make him bathe.

His room is still a cesspool, but I content myself with the fact that his bedroom does have a door and I have enough sense (and sense of self-preservation) to close it.

It's not possible for him to be thirteen.  Then again, he told his sister it was entirely possible because I give them the best gift of all each year. 

I let them live.

Smart-aleck.

Happy birthday, Captain Studly, from your mother, Wonder Woman!

Memory Lane, Anyone?

Anybody out there remember what this is called?

Record player courtesy of Gramma

Yes, it's a record player and photographic proof that we had music before the iPod!  I miss records...go ahead, call me crazy!  Michael Jackson sounded sooo good on my Dad's old turntable.  Of course, that was before he got weird.  Michael Jackson, I mean, not my Dad.  There's something soothing and methodical about the whole process of putting on a record...kind of like I imagine high tea is for the British.  Go ahead and snicker...I'll wait while you catch your breath.

The records are the same record story books I listened to as a kid back when television was black and white and we had to wash our clothes in the stream out back.  Yes, these are questions my own children have asked me, the little twerps!

Know what these are?

The Diva and Captain Studly..getting along


Happy Thursday, y'all!

Bowlin' With My Homies

Captain Studly decided he wanted to go bowling for his birthday (which is tomorrow, if anyone's curious) so this morning, after everyone was medicated, I packed us into the rolling marshmallow and off we went to the bowling alley.  Mind you, my visions of bowling alleys are somewhat fanciful and colored by memories of my youth since I was about twelve the last time I was in one.  I fully expected herds of chain-smoking elderly men, shirts stretched tautly across beer bellies and the lovely smell of stale sweat.  Oh, happy day!  What we got were alot of mommies trying to escape the heat and wear their little darlings out in the process.  We mommies can be so e-vil!

I had coupons for free games for the kids and managed to finagle all our games at a discounted rate (Nana, you'd be so proud of my thriftiness!) and I must say, I found bowling shoes to be somewhat retro chic.  Weird, but there it is.

I fully expected to be sporting that orange ball in my forehead.  The kid scared me!

The Diva had a tough time and resorted to rolling the ball 'like a baby'...her words, not mine.

If it weren't for the bumpers, none of us would've hit a pin!  Thankfully, there are no pictures of me.  I felt like a baboon in stilettos.  However, bowling proved to me that my children can get along with one another and be generally supportive of the family unit.  Or maybe that's just 'cause we were in public.