Okay, take a deep breath...

What a weird dance weekend...

There are so many things I love about dancing, including travelling with friends to dance events, sharing the experience, rehashing it afterwards, etc. But this weekend, while okay on the whole brought out some of my least favorite things about going to dances:

-Fast partnering - before the applause is over, all of the people around you are partnered up. This behaviour is typical of many places, but I find it especially rampant in the particular community we were visiting. I was reminded why I'm boycotting their ball.

-Callers who talk too much - this makes the dance instructions hard to ferret out, and turns excess attention on the caller rather than on the dancers and the music. As a caller, I don't think the evening should be about the caller, no matter how pleasant he or she may be...

-Teachers who can't teach. They use the same words to explain what made no sense the fitst time rather than using different words, demonstrating, or having someone else demonstrate. We all lose that way - caller is frustrated, and dancers still don't know what to do.

-Teachers who don't own their ideas and convictions. Don't tell me to dance in a particular way because it will make me enjoy the dance more. Tell me to do x because it is a style you are advocating at the moment or for some other reason, but don't put it on me. I have a pretty good idea of what makes me enjoy a dance and stupid hand gestures are not it. Try again. Or rather, don't. ARGHHHH!!!!! I try pretty hard not to outright avoid this person's workshops and ideas, try to see that she has something to offer, interesting dances, if nothing else. But she doesn't make it easy.

And all of this happens on the eve of my going to July 4th Weekend, where I plan to put all of this behind me and have a stellar time, damn it.

C is for Crafts...

Tonight I invited a few folks over for crafts. Never mind it was really too hot to contemplate crafts, but I knew without the incentive to get the craft room ready for more than just myself, I would never do anything. Too true.

So I scurried after work and moved things around and put some things away, and realized that I have a heck of a lot of craft stuff. How did it all fit down on 8th Street.

It's also amazing how we can finish with a hobby, and still retain all of the stuff. Am I ready to admit to myself that my cross stitch and beaded flower days are over? Can I be diligent and just finish up the few cross stitch projects that I left in progress forever ago and then give away all of the stuff? Can I make the beaded flower hair clips I have in mind and then move on? Will I ever really quill paper, make the one basket I bought a kit for, and finally construct that bag out of buttons? Can I talk myself out of my new idea of soap-making?

The problem is that I want to do all of these things, but I don't have the time. And will likely never attain sufficient time for all of this. I haven't even mentioned the bags of yarn for crocheting and the bins of leftover quilting fabric. I hardly sew!

It's crazy and I love all of it and I want to organize it and make stuff and...

And come over and craft with me some time. Help me use my stuff. The rubber stamps aren't going anywhere!

An exceptional cat!

I wish these were translated and available in the US...

Someday...

I'm going to have walls of built-in bookshelves. Everywhere.



Tonight's object of obsession is my upstairs parlour. Obviously there must be built-ins on either side of the fireplace, but I'm also designing a custom unit in my head for the opposite wall. It's going to have three parts. The main center section will be deeper and have an open space for the TV and cabinets underneath for the stereo and music storage. The side wings will be open shelving with cabinets underneath. The left side cabinet will in fact be a radiator cover, like this:

There won't be two different grill work designs, though. The right side cabinet will feature the same grill work, but have doors that open and more shelves within.

The built-ins will provide all of the storage I need, and give the room a more unified, if not more formal look.

Before the work begins, I'll make sure that the phone jack get's moved to a more accessible location, and that the outlet is still reachable by power strip, if nothing else (and that the outlet is grounded to cover all bases.

Well, I'm glad this plan is taken care of... It falls somewhere after additional bathroom, sofa reupholstery, and roof/porch revamps. Maybe by the time I'm 40. Or 45...

This needs to be mine...

From Little Factory, in black or white, uppercase, lowercase, or numbers...

Musical Interlude...

One of the things I look forward to on my weekend drives to and from New England, is passing through the greater NYC area sometime between the hours of noon and 4pm on both days. Somehow waiting in stupid traffic at the GWB is that much easier if Jonathan Schwartz and the Saturday Show is on the radio. Schwartz is the son of lyricist Arthur Schwartz, who wrote Dancing in the Dark, among other things. He knows all things Broadway and all things standards, and all things Sinatra. He's got a golden voice for radio and always evokes the romance of the golden age/Camelot years of the 50s and early 60s for me.

And the songs that he plays are just my speed. He does mainstream and esoteric. He plays three differerent versions of the same song, and three different songs which happen to have the same title. But best of all, I always learn something - a new tidbit, or piece of history, but more often about a new performer or a new song. It never fails but I'm driving along and suddenly have the urge to take notes on a song title or artist name. I only hope I can decipher the scrawl once I've found a red light. A few months ago it was Irene Kral's Better than Anything. Then it was Betty Hutton. This time, among other things, it was a Christine Lavin song that was so perfect for this time of year:

Air Conditioner
Words and Music by Christine Lavin
Copyright 1987 Blendingwell Music (ASCAP)

Oooh this hot summer's got me down
You can fry an egg on the street
Heat waves are wiggling on the sidewalk
Cops are dropping like flies on the beat
I need a new lover to take me in
Protect me from this humid air
Be him from Brooklyn, Staten Island, or Queens
I don't care

It don't matter what kinda lovin' you're into
Or how big your apartment might be
All you need's an Air Conditioner
And you're the man for me.

You can pour me a glass of Perrier
You can fan my fevered brow
You can rub me down with alcohol
That ain't enough know how
You can lay me in a tub of ice
You can stand me in a cold shower too
But if you don't have an Air Conditioner
I will not go home with you

It don't matter what kinda lovin' you're into
Or how big your ego might be
All you need's an Air Conditioner
And you are the man,You are the man, You are the man, You are the man,
You are the man, You are the man, You are the man for me.

What's that you say you live by the Hudson River
And a breeze blows through your door
Well honey if you don't have a Freidrich's in your window
I don't wanna hear any more
What's that you say you live in a penthouse
Got a terrace with a view of the night
Well that's swell but I really must tell you
An Air Conditioner's a much prettier sight

It don't matter what kinda lovin' you're into
Or how big your wallet might be
All you need's an Air Conditioner
And you're the man oh
You're the man
I don't care what kinda lovin' you're into
Or how big your _________ might be
All you need's an Air Conditioner
And you're the man oh
You're the man oh
You're the man for me.

It goes right on the mix with Too Darn Hot and Havin' a Heat Wave...

Time to learn about i-Tunes and downloading songs...

Ramblings and the weekend in review...

It was another one of those unreal weekends...

For some unknown reason I had the brilliant plan of going to the dentist and then calling a dance on Friday. But it all worked out - no icky needles required - and I called the dance Friday night with no lingering dental after-affects. And it was Jacqueline Schwab playing for us! How lucky can you get to call a dance with a musician like that. Making the right dance choices for solo piano is still a challenge for me, but I'd welcome the opportunity to get better at it if I could work with a musician of that caliber more often!

Saturday was off once more to Amherst for the Pleasures of the Town dance, greatly aided by the loan of Peter and Rachel's car. It's still an idyll every time I go up there. Maybe because it's so far away, in a different dance community. I go. I have a few hours to catch up with friends, eat, call the dance, sleep, and get in the car and drive home. Unreal, but lovely. The dancers are fun and not used to/tired of my calling, the music is great, and there was a lovely waltz at the end of the night.

Sunday, birthday. Also unreal because I didn't make it intensely celebratory, using the dances Friday and Saturday as the birthday parties in my head. I drove homeward. I went to the pool party, not bringing a contribution. But best of all, just as I got home, lugging the bags and the groceries from the car, a neighbor invited me over for cake - leftovers from her husband's birthday just days ago. So there was my third party of the weekend. This time I told folks it was my birthday. It was the perfect end to the day.

Now the time will fly until I leave for camp...

So I'm 35, and I think fine with that. It's a year of change, perhaps moreso than I anticipated with the need for a new car, but all in all, I'm happy with it. I love the house. I look forward to achieving a work shift. I'm excited and a bit scared about the teaching opportunities at camps this summer, but what calling this weekend reminded me is that teaching dancing is fun - and I already know how to do it. Yes, I have to take care and plan my classes well, but it's not something that I can't do. I can and have. I just hope I make good!

Another decision - I think I need to hire Paul's brother Brian for just half a day some time soon-ish. There are a bunch of small things in the house I need done and I'm just not having time for them. Maybe in mid-July after Mendocino. I'll have him hang some shelves and whatever else I can amass - maybe put up a new kitchen light fixture. It'll be wonderful and I won't halt my unpacking progress (or I won't have that excuse any more).

But for now the next project is planning for camp. A week and a half. Ack!

I couldn't resist...

I grew them myself... I'm so proud. Don't worry, I haven't named them.

We all scream...

I bought ice cream last weekend. Now all I need is this sccop for serving from Horchow and these spoons from Sur la Table...

And geraniums red...

The Dormouse and the Doctor
Alan Alexander Milne 1882-1956

There once was a Dormouse who lived in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And all the day long he'd a wonderful view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

A Doctor came hurrying round, and he said:
"Tut-tut, I am sorry to find you in bed.
Just say 'Ninety-nine' while I look at your chest....
Don't you find that chrysanthemums answer the best?"

The Dormouse looked round at the view and replied
(When he'd said "Ninety-nine") that he'd tried and he'd tried,
And much the most answering things that he knew
Were geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

The Doctor stood frowning and shaking his head,
And he took up his shiny silk hat as he said:
"What the patient requires is a change," and he went
To see some chrysanthemum people in Kent.

The Dormouse lay there, and he gazed at the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue),
And he knew there was nothing he wanted instead
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

The Doctor came back and, to show what he meant,
He had brought some chrysanthemum cuttings from Kent.
"Now these," he remarked, "give a much better view
Than geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue)."

They took out their spades and they dug up the bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red),
And they planted chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
"And now," said the Doctor, "we'll soon have you right."

The Dormouse looked out, and he said with a sigh:
"I suppose all these people know better than I.
It was silly, perhaps, but I did like the view
Of geraniums (red) and delphiniums (blue).

"The Doctor came round and examined his chest,
And ordered him Nourishment, Tonics, and Rest.
"How very effective," he said, as he shook
The thermometer, "all these chrysanthemums look!"

The Dormouse turned over to shut out the sight
Of the endless chrysanthemums (yellow and white).
"How lovely," he thought, "to be back in a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red.)"

The Doctor said, "Tut! It's another attack!"
And ordered him Milk and Massage-of-the-back,
And Freedom-from-worry and Drives-in-a-car,
And murmured, "How sweet your chrysanthemums are!"

The Dormouse lay there with his paws to his eyes,
And imagined himself such a pleasant surprise:
"I'll pretend the chrysanthemums turn to a bed
Of delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red)!"

The Doctor next morning was rubbing his hands,
And saying, "There's nobody quite understands
These cases as I do! The cure has begun!
How fresh the chrysanthemums look in the sun!"

The Dormouse lay happy, his eyes were so tight
He could see no chrysanthemums, yellow or white.
And all that he felt at the back of his head
Were delphiniums (blue) and geraniums (red).

And that is the reason (Aunt Emily said)
If a Dormouse gets in a chrysanthemum bed,
You will find (so Aunt Emily says) that he lies
Fast asleep on his front with his paws to his eyes.

I think it was last Fall, or maybe last Spring, when Mom and Deb were in and I still lived downtown. We were walking home one afternoon when I found a geranium plant, sans pot and soil, but root intact, lying on top of a newspaper box. I rescued it, potted it, took it into work, and set it in the sun. And kept my fingers crossed. And though it didn't always seem likely, it's finally taken, and just now, bloomed salmon-y pink flowers. Hurrah! Here's hoping for more of the same!

Writings on the wall...

An image from Apartment Therapy. They wanted to emphasize the cute, petite kitchen. I love the wall decor. But which room and what quote?

100 Posts and counting...

Not quite six months of this blog, and I've hit 100 posts...

Statistics tell all:

-I write more on Mondays than any other day of the week.
-Only 7 out of over 100 posts were written on Saturdays
-Despite my intentions to write about specific things on specific days, by far the most written about topic is my house, not one of the original 7 subject areas (but who knew on January 12th that I was buying a house)
-I'm guessing that 10-15 people read this thing. I suppose there are ways of figuring it out. Maybe best not to know.
-My original thought was to write every day, knowing that I probably wouldn't. I like to write, but somedays, there's not much to say that would even interest me, much less you. And some days I come home with sleep as my only coherant intention. Apparently I write 25/42 of the time.

Statistics don't tell all. Since starting to write this thing, though I've started reading more blogs, I'm still unsure of this whole blogging thing. It's a good way to broadcast stuff, but in the grand scheme of things, the stuff I write about is of no moment. It's not educational, it is not full of wise or even interesting observations. It's not even humorous. It's self-centered blather.

But maybe that doesn't matter as long as the original intent is clear. That this is for myself - a live journal, if you will. A place to collect thoughts and images to record it for my future reference. And while the egotist in me loves that a few folks are reading this and would love a vast audience, this blog is not designed to be overly attractive. There's no hook, no design. It's not even a place for news and announcements - those would still come via email from me, or by phone. Rather it's the bits and pieces, the uppermost thoughts only sort of maybe worth reading.

What do you know about this image?

I know it's a Vermeer or a piece of one, and I know I'd love to hang this on a wall somewhere, or at least have it on my desktop... More information, anyone?

Update...

So, what is going on?

-Summer heat and humidity. Is it October yet?
-Continued lack of car. This has to stop. I want my life back.
-Fire on the street. Not the preferred way to meet the neighbors.
-Demo with ice cream! An audience that wants to participate.
-New dance try-out. Four successful dances in 35 minutes or less.
-Planning for camp. I think I'm already behind.
-I used my craft room! It works, though it's not really ready yet.
-June was the month I was going to be home. Except for the next two weekends. And then the three weekends after that.

Right. Making the most of tomorrow:

-Grocery shopping
-Laundry
-Brunch in town
-Feed Pumpkin (a purr-y cat of my acquaintance)
-Camp planning
-Letter editing

And house cleaning and craft room set up and...

Play with your food...

Lego Jello/Cake Mold. A must for my next craft party.

New Feature!

I've long wanted to post photos and images on this blog, without getting overwhelmed by them. Then recently I gave in and started reading Oh Joy, the blog that every other home/design/crafty blog lists as a favorite or link, and while I don't always love everything that Joy chooses to post (she also has a design bit in the Inquirer every Friday), I love the simplicity of title, image, comment. And the comments are simple - a source, 1-2 sentences with a link.

Watch for this feature in addition to my oh-so-interesting to all 3-5 of you who read this posts...

Boom!

The weather broke.

Making it extremely exciting to get home. Remind me why I don't live in Center City anymore...

The storms that finally hit tonight took out power lines to some parts of Mt. Airy, and shut down first the Chestnut Hill East line, and then the Chestnut Hill West line.

Tanya phoned about the power outage, but when I called home to check in, the answering machine picked up, so all was well on the power front. Then according to the signs at Market East, the R7 was only running few minutes late - fine. Until the announcement that it wasn't running at all. Less fine. But it was a good night for a walk from Allen's Lane, so off to the R8 I went. It arrived, and then stranded us all at 30th Street.

High winds, downed trees, branches, power lines. Downed trains.

But I'm from New York and I know how to throw money at the problem. A visit to the ATM and a chat with a cop about the status of the Lincoln Drive later, and I was in a cab, and finally, poorer, but home.

And at last there's a cool breeze blowing through the windows. I'm going to sleep well tonight.

Getting into the groove

I knew that there was no possible way I would get anything done staying in this hothouse tonight. So being resourceful, I took myself off to the library, and when I found they were closed due to lack of power, thence to nearby Borders for a few hours of coffee and concentration.

I sorely needed to get to work on planning my summer dance camp classes, which are coming up sooner than is quite comfortable, especially when you need to get in Scottish tune lists ahead of time. And once again, home is too distracting to really work on them. But sitting in a climate controlled space, even with the lures of books all around, gives me a set period of time to get work done. So I did.

As with all projects for me, getting started is the hardest part. Even for things like setting up that craft room, I needed that push of Jennifer coming over to help me set up that table. Now suddenly I find myself in there, just stowing things on the shelves. Yesterday, without meaning to, I arranged all of the stamp boxes on the counter. It's a beautiful thing.

It's the same thing with dance programs - I just need that push. So I sat in the cool with binders of dance instructions and spreadsheets and Pillings and got started. And now I am truly aware of the ton of work I have ahead of me. But at least I know where to go from here...

I gave in...

Summer arrived in Philadelphia yesterday. It says, "Hi."

The house is faring as you would expect: the first floor is bearable, especially if you are sitting still. The second floor is less bearable - sitting still and still dripping. The third floor is not good. And Laurie just moved up there today...

I finally gave in and put in my air conditioner in my bedroom window. And I did it myself. And it doesn't appear to be falling out of the window. It helps that the window it's in is missing one of the chains on the side, making it difficult to open and close. It's closed tightly around the window unit now, and I don't think it's going anywhere.

I'm not really happy with the way I had to get power to the A/C. First, there are no outlets near either window. Second, though the outlet behind my bed is 3-prong, it's not grounded. I plugged in a surge protector to the outlet (A/C, bedside lamp), and a 15 amp extention cord to that so it can wind around behind a dresser and reach the A/C in the side window. It works, but...

I think the time has come for more grounded outlets in the house. I need one for the A/C, even though it's a small unit. I want one in the upstairs parlour for my computer, and one for the other electronics. Laurie needs at least two upstairs, as I knew any renter would. So, that becomes higher on the priority list:

-Grounded outlets (5)
-Screens
-Another air conditioner? More than one?
-Bathroom on the 3rd floor

When I first plugged it in, it was 89 degrees in my room. It's in the 70s now. I'm the luckiest one!

What is it?

While perusing Craigslist the other day, I strayed from cars to furniture and found this intriguing piece that I actually really want:



But I didn't know what it was...

Here's another:



And another with a slightly more modern take:



Yes, it's a telephone table. I love the concept of a little bench where you sit, with a surface for the phone and shelves for your phone books, etc. One of the houses that I looked at actually had its phone room. It was a great house, but for that room alone, it was especially attractive.

Phone tables and phone rooms are nostalgic in a way. They're from an era when communicating via wire was not taken lightly. Phone tables were only necessary when phones were fixed objects, unlike today when they fit into our pockets, and freely travel about the world with us, untethered to the wall. These tables fit right into my notion of the simpler, romantic past that was likely neither simple, nor romantic.

This example is defintely not romantic - not my style.



I love this one:





I'm still hoping to get the top item, but the Craigslist people may sell it before I have a chance to pick it up (drat this having no car!).

Maybe that's what that phantom space on the 3rd floor is - a phone room!

Craft room decorating scheme...

Because I have to buy a tooth and a car (of similar prices), I now need to go back to my money making schemes. Renting the 3rd floor, check. Eating Ramen, well, not every night, but I have some in the house. Making craft items for sale, well...

The good news is that soon I will be able to make craft items at all! Last night, Jennifer and I put together my lovely table from Ikea, and over the next several days, I plan to whip the craft room into shape so I can start using it.

I've decided that I'm going to leave the walls in that room the white color they are, and use that space for more free-form, collage-y wall decorations. I recently realized that in every room I had in college, on my bulletin boards at work, I've created these assembleges of images - postcards, fortune cookie fortunes, quotes from magazines, old calendar images, comics, anything, arranged in random patterns as I amass the images. Yes, it's another collection of small things, all posted, making me happy as I look up at them. It's a cross of these two ideas:




Unframed, mostly paper, but arranged geometrically, like pieces of a puzzle that fit.

I'll be able to pull out some of those images from back in school - flower alphabet cards and my collection of Sierra Club tree images, and the new things that have been waiting for a place - panels of postage stamps and paint samples and clippings from magazines.

It's tempting to paint the whole room with magnet paint, but instead I'll just make sure to stock up on masking tape. And then I have to figure out where I put those bags of cards and piles of paper. Probably already somewhere in the craft room.

Stay tuned...

Odds & Ends

So if anyone knows of a car for sale, you'll let me know, right? Four doors and working air conditioning are musts. Low mileage and powerful engine a bonus. Cheap is also good.

The car is officially dying. The mechanic is pretty sure it's not worth putting more money into it. He also cautioned against substantial drives with it. To the grocery store is fine. Down the shore, not so much.

On the bright side, I have the car back, and I got groceries, and I can make little jaunts to the dance and to pool parties, etc. But not to Amherst in a couple of weeks. Time to check out those AAA discounts on car rentals.

On the brighter side, tooth repair, Pt. II happens tomorrow. And even better than that, Jennifer is coming over to help me put together my craft room tomorrow night!!! Craft parties are on the horizon!!! And the two nearly ill-fated bookcases are in my house, just waiting for a spot to reside. I should be okay on bookcases for a little while after this. Maybe.

Inspiration of the night last night: When I eventually bump out the two closets in my room to normal closet depth, and have a window seat put in between them, I want to put in shoe cubbies beneath the window seat, not unlike this Ikea cable:

Good idea? And if I didn't want to put shoes in the cubbies, I'm sure I could think of a thousand other things to put there. Library books. Candles. Sweaters. Linens.

So it's car, teeth

Painting, wood stripping

3rd floor bathroom, closets, roof.

And a Jane Austen style dress.

Transportation blues...

Ok, I admit it - freely: I am dependent on my car. I miss it, and I want it healed and I want it back. Now.

Not having a car completely changed my weekend, and mostly not in a good way. Saturday started as I planned - going to the yard sales in the neighborhood (buying a carafe and a flower frog for 50 cents, and getting a free fly swatter). Then the rains came (as soon as I turned on the hose to water in the yard) and it was all kind of down hill from there.

By the time I checked the train schedules, I'd missed the train that would get me to the movie party I was going to (yes, it would have taken me ~1.5 hours for a 40 minute drive). So between the awful, humid weather, and having no convenient transportation (trains on the hour only on weekends), I was not a happy camper. After this, I was determined to get to the dance, and I did - 2 trains, a shuttle bus and a trolley later (only 2 trains home after someone gave me a ride to the R5), but had to miss tea and hanging out so I could catch the last train home.

Oh, and sometime during the journey home, the temporary filling on my tooth started crumbling. Dentist on Tuesday morning. Can't wait.

Today was an antedote to yesterday, greatly assisted by the fine weather. I already knew I was not making it to the pool party (Jennifer says there's a bus, but I'm not convinced), so I took the train downtown to Penn's Landing to check out the Art Star Craft Bazaar, a venue for emerging craft artists full of stationary, printed t-shirts, and odd felted, plush critters - not animals, just critters. The festival overall was fun, but the crafts mostly made me feel old and unhip - I don't wear t-shirts, and I think I missed many of the anime/TV/pop culture references in some of the other art. Still and all, there was some beautiful jewelry and one photographer in particular who's work I loved. I'll try to showcase some of these folks in the coming week.

After my jaunt by the riverside, I headed to Borders for some long overdue quality time with magazines and books. I think I sat there for almost 3 hours in air conditioned bliss, catching up on my magazines and the latest entertaining books that make me want to throw parties right now immediately. It was wonderful. After I got home, I puttered around the house, and invaded George and Paul's Sunday dinner al fresco with some old friends.

Life is certainly possible without a car, but it makes the world smaller and limits options because of the amount of time things take on public transit and the constraints of schedules. It's not a life I want. I want to run around more widely, and fit in trips to the grocery store on the spur of the moment. I want my freedom back.

With any luck, I will be reunited with my car tomorrow or the next day - poorer, but happier.