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Picture This! …and that… and that…

So I don’t think it counts as “scope creep” if the project starts off as a doozy, but this one creeped a little before it even got started, so maybe it does.

Semantics.

Anywho… one of my long-time aspirations has been to gather, organize, and properly store all of my photographs. Part of my motivation is archival: I would be deeply disappointed if I lost them, as I enjoy looking through them from time to time and re-living all the stupidity memories. So I’d really like to have a digital copy of everything on a drive in my fire-proof safe, just in case.

The other part of my motivation is because I am nothing if not completely anal-retentive about organization. This does not mean I’ve achieved such a state of Organization-Next-To-Godliness, only that I aspire to it.

So the plan started with “Scan old photos for preservation” and eventually creeped up to “Search out all photos online of everything I’ve ever done in the entire history of the Universe and download” so that I can also have an archive of pictures that other people took of things I participated in.

Then I thought, “Hey, why stop there?! Wouldn’t it be nice to take the best of all those pictures and consolidate them into one neatly printed, hard-cover photo album covering the first 30 years of my life that can be easily perused while sipping a cup of tea during bouts of nostalgia? Why yes, that would be lovely!”

Now we’re creepin’!

In usual form, I went ahead and procured supplies for an un-started project by purchasing a Groupon for $100 worth of photo-related items such as nicely printed albums, and only paid $35 for it. I thought it would be a great idea to gather up all these photos and then get them printed in one nice, neat book.

And in usual form, it’s been nearly a year since I did this, which means the Groupon expires in three weeks. Go me.

So I now have a big ol’ pile of photos to scan, and a whole lotta time to spend on the internet searching for pictures taken by friends of stuff that I’ve done. I am determined to complete this Spectacular Ongoing Project by the Groupon deadline so I can use my awesome deal, and so I can cross it off the list.

Piles of photo albums

An explosion of photographic goodness

Updates will be forthcoming.

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The Ghost of a Ladybug

I have a secret confession to make. Its a Bad one, so brace yourself.

I own a sewing machine.

GASP! HORROR!

Yeah yeah, it doesn’t sound so awful, does it?  At least until I let you in on my other secret confession:   I can’t sew.  Oh sure, I can make simple things, like pillows and blankets.  Things that are square, with straight lines.  I’ve even successfully hemmed pants.

I am fascinated with the idea of making my own clothing.  I have been ever since I was a little girl.  Not knowing what I was doing, I attempted to construct outfits for my teddy bears and barbie dolls, using scraps of fabric and elmer’s glue.  The resulting misshapen, stiff garment-alikes were never used for long before they were discarded.

Disaster struck the day I inherited my mother-in-law’s unused sewing machine, along with a box of thread in every color, buttons, even a repair kit.  But the machine never worked right, either due to mechanical flaw or my own failing in setting it up properly.  I blamed my inability to make anything on the way it would bunch up the fabric and ruin my projects before they even got started.

Then I bought a new sewing machine, and actually took the time to learn to use it.   I no longer had an excuse.  Nope, I just can’t sew.

I still like to pretend I can sew.  I’m smart, I can figure it out, right?  I look at fabric and I see so much delicious potential.  Its why I have four piles of fabric, with matching thread, buttons, and other “notions*” sitting in my craft pile.  I look at them and can still picture in my head the skirts and shirts they might one day be.  I can picture some of the steps required to construct them.  Not all, but some.

It might help if I could follow a pattern.  I tried once. I got an entire pair of pants traced and halfway cut out.  I even got so far as sewing together the pocket.   Now, seven years later, I still own a pile of pieces of pre-pant, and one very nice pocket.

Despite knowing full well that I cannot sew, I still somehow seem to think that I can.  I think it is a form of madness, brought on by the smell of fresh fabrics, the tactile excitement of running my fingers over soft cottons.   “I can totally do this,” is the lie I tell myself, followed quickly with “…and I’m totally gonna this time.”   As though it is only loss of steam that stalls my sewing, instead of the truth, that I just don’t know what I’m doing and I give up when it is obvious that I have ruined something beyond my ability to repair.  I don’t even know how to use a seam ripper properly!

My delusions of grandeur lead me to believe that I can make not only simple items, but complicated, involved projects like a halloween costume.  So one year, I was determined to make myself a ladybug costume.  Complete with a second set of jointed arms that moved along with my real arms.  It would look SO COOL!  My mental image made it look pretty awesome, at least.  The fact that I had no idea how to make one was no concern, I’d figure it out as I went along, like I always do.  I made a few sketches that were extremely rough, but already showing that I had no idea what I was doing.  I ignored that fact, and proceeded to Goodwill to buy some supplies, and then to the fabric store for more.

I got as far as doing some passable shirt Mad Science, grafting the shoulders and arms from one shirt onto another.  Some foam tubes provided the stiffness for the arms, and a pair of blown-up Nitrile gloves stuffed into a pair of gloves would be passable for a second set of hands.  Lacking anything better, I used some thread to attach it to my arm at the appropriate points.

At this point, it was looking pretty good.  I decided to make a mock-up of my idea for the vest and beetle shell.  And then.. it gets a little fuzzy in memory.  The Madness had overtaken me, which is never a good sign.  I can’t recall exactly what happened, but I do remember the aftermath, of realizing that I had no idea how to make a vest.   It took about three  years for me to give up on this idea, though I never revisited it.  I did eventually manage to let it go enough that I could throw away the evidence of my failure.

Maybe I’ll sign up for a sewing class.

* Notions are one of those things I absolutely LOATHE about sewing, and one reason why I won’t follow a pattern.  I just unreasonably hate the term.  It sounds so stupid.  Notions are the crazy schemes in my head, not an actual real thing that I need to buy!  I actually don’t know what it means, but I dislike it anyways.