Spool Samples Archives : Fluid Pudding

Psst! I’m ready for skirt season!

Do you guys know Isabella Golightly? She lives in Australia and despite the fact that she has never had a proper fish taco, she’s absolutely delightful. A few weeks back, I visited her Etsy shop and ordered a flatpack for schlepping around my keys and phone and cash card when I go to the gym. (HA HA HA HA!!! I don’t go to the gym! When I say Gym, I mean grocery store, school, or Gokul.) ((By the way, Gokul is opening their Loop location on Thursday if any of my lunch people want to hook up for lunch in the coming weeks!))

Anyway. My flatpack arrived in the mail yesterday, and I didn’t even realize it was there because I’m afraid to get my mail. (Not because of this. Currently, our driveway is a solid sheet of ice. In fact, if my milkman is reading this right now, he’s yelling, “Yeah! And I almost cracked my butt on that ice yesterday morning carrying your half gallons up to the house! I rock a mic like a vandal, light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle!”) This morning the lovely Isabella asked if I had received the pouch, so Jeff risked his life by sliding down the hill to the mailbox, and yes.

I’m in love with this flatpack, and I’m not quite sure how I got by without it. (I’m looking at you, Yesterday!) ((This month, all proceeds will benefit Queensland Flood Relief!)) (((I’m afraid this photo makes the pouch look HUGE. It’s actually quite small—the perfect size to hold my phone, my cash and insurance cards, my lip stuff, license, and iPod. Everything I Need.)))

On a semi-related note, on the way home from my book club meeting on Sunday, I had ten minutes to stop by a fabric sale before the store closed. It took about three minutes to get over the feeling of being completely overwhelmed, an additional two minutes to remember how much fabric I need to make the skirt that I tend to make, and five more minutes to find two fabrics that I love. When the sun comes out and the corduroy pants are thrown back into the top of the closet, I will be sporting a daisy skirt.

Unless, of course, I’m sporting a green pepper skirt.

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Are you hinting my apples are not what they ought to be?!

Did you hear the rumbling noise yesterday morning at approximately 11:30 CST? That, my friend, was me becoming a soccer mom. I’m not quite sure what the new job entails, other than hauling the kids around three or four times each week for practices and games.

Also, I believe it means I need more skirts. Here is my most recent fabric choice:

In my breezy world, everyone needs a skirt with spooky trees. And the apples make it the perfect skirt for meeting the teacher on Wednesday evening, don’t you think? (School starts on Thursday. School starts on Thursday! And suddenly, it’s almost Christmas.)

This morning on the way to get flu shots, we passed by a pizza dump.

Me: Wait! Roll down your windows. Do you smell the pizza crust baking?!

Meredith: That’s not pizza. That’s my burning flesh.

Five minutes later, she asked if I have ever been arrested. When I told her I have not, she made it clear that she did not believe me.

I’ll miss Meredith when school starts. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Skirting Around the Biliary Dyskinesia

A few weeks ago I suddenly got the urge to fill my closet with skirts. In the past, when similar urges have struck or stricken depending on your preference, I simply made a trip to J.Jill where I tried on a handful of skirts, did the math while standing half-clothed in the dressing room, and walked out empty handed (yet fully clothed) with the skippy feeling you get when you have saved $439.85 by NOT filling your closet with skirts.

(I know. I don’t HAVE to go to J.Jill. BUT, if I were to choose a store based on the style I think I want to represent, stinking expensive J.Jill it would be.) ((Um, by the way, I would love to be able to carry this off. I believe I would drink more green tea if I dressed like that! And I know I would smile more! And I would be right on track with Infinite Summer!))

Anyway, instead of making a trip to the mall this time around, I made a trip to the fabric store.

Last weekend I put this together:

I wore it out on Monday, and it didn’t fall apart when I sat down, so I headed back to the fabric store a few days back with my biggest critics—Harper and Meredith.

Me: I would like you to help me choose some fabric for a skirt that would look good with either a white or a black t-shirt.

Meredith (after browsing less than three minutes): This is the one. You can wear it when you go to a restaurant.

And I know that it’s probably best suited for a pot holder or a tablecloth, but Meredith actually put a bit of thought into it, and Harper agreed with her. So now I have one of these:

AND, because my brain is completely wrapped up in skirts, I went out this morning and bought the fabric to make another. You see, I’m going to a party tonight (who? me? what?), and I believe the party calls for something with neon dots, as most parties do.

(Please stay tuned, for my next update will contain actual photographs (or cartoony drawings, depending on your preference) of my gall bladder—specifically, my sphincter of Oddi, which has absolutely nothing to do with the large-tongued dog in the Garfield cartoon strip.)

Skirts!

Edited to Add: Finished with the Friday Skirt! (See what I mean about the skirts?! It’s all skirts all the time over here! Simplicity 2906!)

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For my next trick, I shall assemble a car.

Remember last month when you inspired me to reach into my closet and pull out my sewing machine?

Well, take a look at what happened earlier this week.

I made a dress.

And Harper sort of likes it.

And when she bends over, it doesn’t rip, which means I can change the world, Eric Clapton.

(By the way, Jeff came up with Spool Samples as my sewing tag. That’s why I married him, you know.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

You inspired me, Internet!

I just returned home from the fabric store, where I purchased the following items:

I’m setting the goal of having one dress completed before Mother’s Day. Apparently, the really good scissors go on sale for Mother’s Day, and if the sewing is going really well, I can almost justify purchasing really good scissors!

And then I’ll set the goal of cutting the girls’ hair. Because when you have really good scissors, you can cut hair, right? And then I’ll start giving perms to the ladies on my street. And then I’ll start making my own ketchup, because it seems like the next logical step after permanently waving the street lady heads. (My grandmother made her own ketchup (and root beer) and she died four years ago today. I think she would be happy to know that this evening I purchased fabric, thereby getting a semi-early start on the long road to Ketchupville.)

Edited to Add: The cutting of the hair with the good scissors thing? I’m just kidding, Internet. I would NEVER. (I learned that lesson years ago when my mom was the owner of good scissors. Incidentally, my mom’s good scissors are sitting in my kitchen drawer right now, and they sometimes cut through flower stems! Sorry, Mom.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>