got the teenager to school and the car didn't die and its a good thing, as Martha would say. I'm still in the pink PJ's... but my mind is somewhere else altogether. I happened to visit a thrift store yesterday ... a very murky sort of place called ... what the heck is it called? Well .... Just know its a little dark and smelly and filled with peoples' toss offs and I am sometimes known to ... partake ... So there was nothing there this time, or nothing I personally wanted. Other people seemed to be having a really nice time picking up old salvaged bits and stuffing them in their carts, smelly and all. BUT then I saw her... it ... we shall call her Millicent ... A DRESS FORM! a really old and muckish sort of thing, she'd certainly need some ... work ... as they say ... but ... dare I? I went home without her because I always think, well, if she's gone when I get back it wasn't really meant for me. But ... maybe it was meant for me and I'm just delaying the inevitable? It's not that I sew, mind you, although I do have an absolutely gorgeous brand new sewing machine I just had to have three Christmas's ago and made three pillows and then stored in the basement with the vases. But ... the book's somewhere upstairs in one of my drawers. I used to make things in highschool. I made some pants once and put the zipper in backwards ... but ... no worries...
I was thinking (always dangerous) I could cover her in some nice linen or muslin ... she has a very nice chest ... nice and shapely, and my thought is to use her for really getting a good idea of how a necklace will hang. It's very hard to really get a good idea using myself ... I like to face my work! Mirrors put everything backwards and cattywompus anyway. Don't they? I can't even button my shirt in the mirror!
The problem with working at home is you're always thinking, before I go to work, I'd best clean up the house a bit, then before you know it it's 3pm and you're still scrubbing the bathroom and your hair's a wreck and then the teenager and his entourage walk in and the man gets home and THEN if you even mention disappearing to the shop, they sort of look at you ... you're leaving us? Now? we just got here.... faces all bleary and turned down. one thing I realize too is that ... I don't get anything more done, and in fact, I think I get less done! And of course, there's that night work that no one knows about! They're all sleeping and snoring while I'm pricing and measuring and cutting and doing inventory. But of course I love every minute of it ... but the trick is not to let them know just how much you love it ... mustn't be too happy about working ...disappearing to your shop, fiddly diddling all day with a bunch of stones. Really.
must run, lora
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