T-Minus FIVE days!

On Friday, July 27th, at a bit past 10am, I will commence signing of documents that will put me in a massive amount of debt in return for a couple of brass keys.

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These brass keys will allow me access to enough parking for 9 cars (if nobody minds a bit of a squeeze), a HUGE pine tree, a corner of the yard populated by ferns, 2 porches, 2 bedrooms, 1 bath, and Chainmaille Central.

I’m excited.

Actually…let me rephrase that…

I’M SUPER EXCITED!!!!!!!

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I’m also staring at this HUGE mound of boxes in the middle of the living room.  I’ve been staring at them (and adding to them) for about a month now.  This evidence of the move looming on the horizon has really interrupted the even flow of energies in the apartment.  It’s hard to think in a space that is so very cluttered with acres of belongings.

This will be the LAST time I pack all my stuff in boxes and move it…
The foot has officially been put down.

To stave off the mess in the living room, I took to the pliers yesterday.  The weave is European 4 in 1, which is an easy one, and the preferred weave for inlay artists in the Chainmaille community.  I haven’t done much inlay work (although the quilt patch is what I’ll count as my ‘first’) and haven’t done any inlay work in Euro4-1 before, so it was exciting and soothing and fun all at the same time.

Home Inlay

When it’s complete, I will have a rectangular inlay that spells out the word ‘Home.’  Where the ‘O’ is will be a little house.  I’m gonna hang this in the porch, so visitors can see it when they knock at my door.

 

 

 

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Ducks in the Amazon River Basin…

I swear…Amazon does occasionally listen.  Either that, or they’ve been stalking my blog and decided to do something nice for me in hopes that I’ll boost their 3rd quarter earnings.

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THIS particular offering actually had me drooling.  Pliers?  Oh, yea, baby…bring it on!

Right now, I’m practically wedded to my Xuron Chisel Nose pliers.  They are my go-to’s.  I loved the Chisel Nose so much, I ended up going out and buying a second pair for those REALLY tight spaces…which, in my world, is almost anytime I build something.

Sculpture inherently demands the removal of as much ‘wiggle room’ as possible.

 

I’ve looked at, and drooled over, the Tronex tools for quite a while, as there are plenty of other maillers in my group who swear by them over my beloved Xurons.  There are only 2 reasons why I’ve not jumped at new tools.

  1. I love my Xuron’s, and they might feel ‘cheated on’ and
  2. HOLY SHIT – look at the PRICE of the Tronex!

Right now, though, my credit card is in time out status, as I’m not buying anything I don’t absolutely NEED because I’m gonna have to dump it in a box and move it, so the Tronex/Xuron/Me love triangle will have to wait until probably September.

Hmmm…my birthday is in September.  Maybe get myself a little something? 😀

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In totally unrelated news – last week, I got to walk to work exactly 1 time.  Rain, a wicked cold, and running for house-related things kinda ate up the rest of my week.  But that one day I did get to march my happy feet on the pavement, I had a solidly FUN experience.

Because of the rain, my normal route was slightly flooded.  The park IS right next to the river, after all, and when it rains, it retains.  We had enough standing water to flood out the walking path right along the river bank.  But looking at the bright side of things, the new puddles did serve to amuse the ducks…

Duck in puddle

The good news was, the park wasn’t flooded enough for me to have to turn around.  I could still get up the hill and take ‘the high road’ as it were.  Up by the street, the park has not flooded since I’ve been walking things.

When I got to the park on the walk home, I wanted to see JUST how much water was standing, figuring I could hike up the rise if things got too soggy.

And soggy, they were.  There were a couple of large patches of water covering the footpath and surrounding grasses.

But then, I took inspiration from the little duck I’d seen in the morning…

Shoes and socks came off.  Pant legs got rolled up.  And I SPLASHED my way through the standing water.

Why do we stop doing things like this when we’re adults?  It was FUN.

Knock it off, Amazon!

I tell ya…you look at ONE thing on Amazon…

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Let me make this perfectly clear, Amazon…I am NOT having a baby.  I’m 50 years old, ferkristsake, and THE BABY FACTORY IS CLOSED!

I will welcome any grandkids once they appear, however…

At least I know where this recommendation comes from…

 

As I’ve got an accepted offer on the new house, and the bank has tentatively accepted my mortgage application, I’m gonna be moving.  The kids and I are splitting up our current household’s stuff, and they use the living room furniture more than I do.  We’ve decided they can keep the couch and chair we got from the Restore shop when we moved into our apartment.

Restore is part of the Habitat for Humanity group – they take in donations and resell them to support their objectives, and I’m happy to have bought used stuff from them.

So, seeing though I’m gonna be living room furniture-less when I move, I’m scouring the ‘net.  One of my regular stops is (of course) Amazon.

While I was clicking through various end tables and daybed frames and other stuff, I came across an object I had to look at, just to clarify what it was.

It was a changing station that you could attach to any level surface (like a dresser or nightstand) to safely change the diapers of any child currently in need of a dry bottom.  Now, I’m not gonna lie – the thing has great potential as a mobile workstation for chainmaille (if it can contain a child, I’ll bet it can keep rings from rolling all over the place!)…BUT….

I’m not in a position just yet to buy things for the new house.  I refuse to buy ANYthing for the new place until I actually have keys in my hot little hands 😀

And, seriously, Amazon?  Ya’ll are 100X worse than the worst office gossip.  I’m surprised they didn’t send me a congratulatory email welcoming my new addition to the world!

/endrant

Now, just to reward ya’ll for getting through my latest Amazon rant…here’s a shot I took of the future Chainmaille Central.  The current owner still has a LOT of stuff to clear out of the house…but I’ve got around 6 more weeks until I can start spreading MY stuff all over this bench!

Chainmaille Central

 

Sporadic-us

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There was this scene from ‘Clueless’ quite a while ago which keeps popping into my head… she was planning a romantic night with her current ‘man of her dreams’ and he wanted to watch the original Spartacus.  Only in the monologue, she pronounced it Sporadic-us…so I’ve blatantly stolen that little bit of giggle for my blog post.

If you’re unfamiliar with the movie Clueless, it came out in the mid-90’s – it starred Alicia Sliverstone playing the part of an extremely shallow teenager with unlimited funds coming of age.  There are a lot of little leavening bits like the one I’ve stolen, but overall, it’s a good, silly little flick.

Which has to bring me to the meat & taters of this post.  I’ll probably be a little Sporadic-us in my postings for the next couple of months, because I’m FINALLY buying a house!

Yea, life-changing event.  Saving for the future.  Largest investment.  30 YEAR mortgage!
PANIC-LEVEL ANXIETY!

So while the bank is combing through every inch of my financial history, while the seller and listing agent are attempting to keep my interest high, while the credit card is sweating bullets with all the STUFF I have to get to maintain the home, while the entire team are working on justifying lending this single, 50 year old woman a metric shit-ton of money…well, let’s just say, they may be keeping me a bit too busy to regularly tackle the blog.

On the other hand, you may well get a number of posts from me bemoaning the entire process and how intrusive it feels.  There may even be tears.  We’ll just have to wait and see how the words hit the screen.

Any time that’s not taken up with jumping through all the hoops of high-property finance will be properly winnowed away by the little gremlins in my head who are screaming and breaking things because they HATE moving!

Right now, they’re enacting this enchanting scene from 300…

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Wish me calm…I need it!

Dream On

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“Sleeping Beauty” by Henry Meynell Rheam

Everyone dreams.

Now, for the purpose of definitively defining what I mean by ‘dream,’ I’m talking about the picture-show that goes on behind our eyelids when we become unconscious in the night.

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Or day – depending on your work schedule and/or lifestyle options.

And not the long-range goals or unobtainable objectives you fervently desire to become reality, but just aren’t going to.

World Peace, anyone?

Sometimes, I have REALLY weird dreams.  Or prolific dreams.  Or the dreams that help me sort out a particular, real-life issue.  Or the ones that rouse me from my somnolescent state while it’s still dark out, with my nerves shrieking, my heart pounding, and my breath rasping in my lungs.

Like most people, the bulk of my dreams fade into non-memory once real life re-asserts itself.

But there are some dreams – that stick with you.

One night, I mixed the Rocky Horror Picture Show together with the Lord of the Rings, and did the Time Warp with Transvestite Hobbits on top of a medieval tavern’s bar.

Last night – was not an amusing/joyful/goofy/fun dream…

And I still can’t shake it.

I moved from my little 1 bedroom apartment this month, to a larger 2 bedroom, to accommodate the kid’s need for a bedroom of their own, and to finally be able to have my sweetie and myself under the same roof, so I know this is the real-life situation that the dream was based on.

But still….freaky as fuch…

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I was in an apartment, viewing for potential move-in-ability.  It was a ranch-style condo type apartment with its own basement and parking garage.  You parked in either the garage or the driveway, walked a bit, then climbed a flight of stairs to the deck which graced the front door.  The front door opened into the kitchen.  Everything was dark and slightly cobwebby, with an air of abandonment and little trinkets and various junk-objects still in residence from the last tenant.

I had the keys, and there was no landlord or property manager showing me the place, I was just wandering aimlessly from room to room.

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“Relativity” by M.C. Escher

Once inside, I couldn’t find the exterior walls.  Room opened into hallway into room into hallway into room.  If I found an occasional window, it opened into another hallway or interior room.

S was with me.  She was (as she usually is) bubbly and loving the weird atmosphere, all the bizarre objects left lying around, and prattling on about how we’d have ALL THIS SPACE!

We found the basement (with no knowledge of finding the stairs).  In the basement were three separate kitchens, still full of pots & pans and antique (dirty, chipped, and/or rusted) dishes.

It reminded me a bit of one of the larger antique stores in the Waukesha area, where they’d set up various living-configurations of furniture, shelves, and purchasable objects in the basement.

Now, I’m back upstairs, and watching the moving truck back into the driveway, men starting to unload furniture I know I didn’t own, but felt ‘mine’ to me.  I started to protest, that I hadn’t signed the lease or paid the rent, but they continued to load my things into this house.

The SQO pops up in my line of sight, concern painted on his features, and questioning why we’re moving here, when we’ve signed the lease on the apartment downtown?

Back in the basement, someone’s cooking something in one of the three kitchens, a lot of banging, clattering, and something really spicy perfuming the air, and I’m in a shadowy side of the basement.  Nothing there.

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The space is antiseptically clean.  Not so much as a dust mote in the air.

And the feeling comes.  I’ve been here before.  I’ve never left here.  And I’ve wanted to escape for a lifetime.

Because this place is not natural, and not really on this plane, and there IS no escape.

The lights fade.  Darkness descends.  And a dry, throaty chuckle issues from behind my left shoulder.

 

Yea – that’s where I woke up, heart threatening to pound itself straight out of my chest.

I HATE the creepy ones…