This should come as no surprise

Ok.

Where we last left me, on the edge I live on and frequently sew from, I was volunteering at a dog refuge shelter.

Well.

Yesterday afternoon I brought home this two year old poodle Schnauzer mix. Her name on her cage said Heidi but the family quickly figured that since Miss Heidi at home is heavily invested in the Terrible Twos and painting her body with stuff you shouldn't use for that and trying to make rules for things like who gets to open the doors or else - many events that prompt "No Heidi!" that this would be counter productive.

So since this new dog likes to stop and smell the flowers Miss Scarlett has phoned in the name Daisy, which is who she is now. And she doesn't know she has a name anyway.

The thing is Miss Daisy was abandoned after her time in a rabbit cage at a puppy mill. She was picked up and sent to be euthanized but ended up with the group that tries to save those dogs, and ended up being walked by me.

These puppy mill dogs really have had a hard time. The ones I have tried to walk won't, they have never been out of cages and don't know how to do it. These are animals that often have not walked on grass, played, being patted, or even had names. 

This little dog really loved to walk however and was the only dog I ever have seen who actually stopped and smelled the flowers. I was told to expect that she would stay in her crate for a long time and I would need patience.

This is a long way from Mr. R the terrier chutzpah king.

But I figured I wasn't going to go home and leave her behind not knowing what would happen to her.

So we came home and she did hide in the crate. She looked at a ball and didn't know what it was. She doesn't know what Good Girl means and looks worried when we say Come. I still have not heard her bark.

But I took her out for a walk and we walked and walked and she was so happy. And she ate so well and I felt her bony back and wondered how many meals it would take to fill her out.

The sound of the dishwasher, the washing machine, the beep of the iPhone, the sound of garlic being chopped at the chopping block startled her.

And last night she was put in her crate but started to fuss and when she came out she tried to get up on the bed. 

And she slept all night, quiet and relaxed, between us.

We will see how we go.

She is a good girl. 

Just doesn't know it yet.

As requested

Here is Vanessa. Other dogs in the shelter can be seen here.

Vacation report

We are going into our third week here in Florida. Monday I go back to work online with two courses and I am looking forward to it. My classes are interactive and I enjoy talking with my students.

I have been doing a whole lot of knitting and some sewing. The sewing is a dress I will post pictures of, but to be really honest I have sort of downshifted right now and getting that organized is not something I am going to get to today. 

The knitting is a sweater for my youngest son. I am in the search for a generic knit in the round pattern I can adjust to different folks and basic stitch patterns and this was a version of that. Sort of a knitting TNT. Not sure if I am there with this one. 

I got it into my head that since he is tall and slim I should make a long thin sweater but I may of overdone it. We will see when I get home. If it doesn't fit him it may fit Lowly Worm, an entity that Richard Scary readers will recognize:

The other thing I have been doing has been therapeutic.

I am a big walker. I should have self-identified that with the last shoe post. If you can't walk in it, it is of no use to me.

When I first got here I went on my usual morning beach walk along the route Mr. R and I used to take. 

I also did my annual thinking and at one point that even included serious consideration of going to a place here called The Electric Chair and getting Rascal tattooed on my wrist. 

But then I figured that wouldn't be fair to the other dogs that proceeded him, and then how could I do the dogs and not the grandkids, and then there was the love of my life, and my children and by the time I figured I would be a 60 year old with sleeves I decided to pull myself back over the saner part of the line.

And my feet took me one morning past the local shelter that takes in animals other shelters were about to put down.

I decided me walking by myself every morning was the waste of a good dog walker. So every morning since I spend about two hours walking dogs from the shelter.

I really enjoy it a lot.

My own dogs have always been of the purebred carefully cared for type and I have had my eyes opened here. There are some terrible stories. I am not taking my husband with me because he is a sweet soft-hearted man and would be teary at what some people have done in a few of the situations. I have worked for politicians and am of course better prepared for this kind of stuff.

The thing is that even with a few bad stories there are not bad dogs. Overwhelmingly these are lovely, lovely dogs and being in contact with them, walking them as opposed to just looking at them in the pen where no one would be at their best, I have let lose of some of my preconceived ideas on refuge animals.

These would be:

• You don't know what you are getting. Actually neither do you with any dog but with the dogs that are a little older than puppies, - teens, adults and even seniors, you do know exactly what you are getting, particularly if you spend some time walking and getting to know the dog.
• These dogs have behavioural problems. Actually few of them seem to. You have to remember that in many cases these were pets that were owner surrendered because of non animal issues - the owner died, got sick, or had to move away from a pet friendly housing situation. These dogs are trained, loving, and ready to fit into a home.

Of course the puppies are more adoptable but the older dogs are wonderful and many have 3/4 of their lives ahead of them and have the advantage of already being trained and socialized.

If I could I would write a few new cards on some of the pens if I had a chance. This is what they would read.

My name is Vanessa. My owner passed away and when I came here I was despondent. Wouldn't even move. However after some attention I got my perk back. All I want is to go around the block once a day and spend the rest of the time smiling and watching you.

My name is Arthur. I am two and lived on the streets and then in shelters my whole life. I should be a mess but I am not. I am calm and happy, cheerful and sturdy. I am an optimist.

It gives me a lift every day to see these guys.

Project photos later.

I knew it

I have been thinking about this a while now. Just when women start to breathe and lead lives of their own defining, someone somewhere decides they need to be slowed down.

Often these someones are fashion designers, who of course are just expressing larger themes.

In particular the shoes so many women try to wear these days seem to prove this. I mean a girl just can't keep up, all day on her feet, staggering behind in 5 inch heels. 

When I see shoes like this, I think really? These are just designed to trip you up. I mean I love pretty shoes but do these look like they belong on the feet of someone who has worked to be comfortable in her own skin, on can stand on her own two feet?

Which may be the point.

What do you think of this?

Flypaper thoughts, Florida version

• No real sewing to show because I have been knitting
• Unless you count online fabric ordering
• I do
• The knitting is going well
• Once you unravel a sweater it is easier to knit the second time around
• They aren't kidding about that gauge stuff
• Went for a drive past Cape Canaveral
• Which reminds me
• If there is one thing that drives me crazy it is outer space
• Shooting off into space
• To me just one more example of a bunch of men starting a new project before they have cleaned up after the last one
• And aliens
• I mean really, who has the time?
• I don't care if my grandmother claimed some of her relatives in Alberta were kidnapped by aliens
• Of course being her relatives they gave them back
• Let me tell you too if it was one of my kids who had signed up for this one way trip to Mars they would be in big trouble
• Big Trouble
• Ordered three yards of purple "scuba knit" from Fabricmart in the weekend sale
• Ever the optimist
• Am well aware that at my age I should be going for elegant and classic
• Black pants, white shirt, black cardigan
• However when I was upside down in the dentist's recliner a few weeks ago, hoping that TV didn't fall on my safety glasses, the hygienist said I looked sharp
• She was referring to my rose coloured dress that matched my, not surprisingly, rose coloured glasses
• If it came to a draw I think I will go with sharp
• Elegant and classic is being well handled elsewhere in say Manhattan and Paris
• Someone has to hold down the fort on home-made sharp at the dentist office and I am taking that one on
• Purple scuba knit might be pushing the luck of that particular envelope
• Article in the NY Times says that fewer folks are golfing these days
• They are figuring out how to change that
• Bringing the fees down from a week's groceries might help
• Except in Florida where anyone can, and does, golf
• One idea is 15 inch holes and you kick the ball not hit it
• Listen golf is hard
• Some things are hard
• Lapped zippers are hard
• Fitting pants is hard
• Reading knitting instructions right the first time is hard
• Really hard
• Raising kids who don't want to go to Mars is particularly hard
• Looking sharp upside down at the dentists when the dentist is next door from where you had the dog put down a few days before is hard
• It requires conscious colour coordination
• Thing is it is OK if things are hard
• Not every thing can be a skim
• I am riding my bike every day every day
• Also hard
• My husband has noticed
• The stagger into the door
• I thought if he came with me that would be support
• He thought if he surprised me with a put-it-together motor that would be support
• Cultural differences
• Might be dealing with an alien
• What do you think?

Frogs, bunnies, and outfits

First the frog, from this side of the bathroom window,  IMO one more piece of evidence of a wonderful universe:

And the bunnies. 

Every evening a large number of beach bunnies (not the ones with tattoos and thongs) appear in the yard of the house we have rented. Very tame. I must tell you it is a weird feeling to have rabbits hop past a few inches from your toes. More evidence:

And I still have a few previously sewn outfits to share, with the usual random photography I have decided is part of my trademark since it is pretty reflective of life around here.

First up is a Maddie top by Stylearc made up in some silk Carolyn and I bought so long ago at Mood that she must be wondering if I was ever going to do anything with it. 

It has taken me a long time to figure out how to use this border print. I am happy with this very breezy wearable top.

Here is my office shot, taken by my long suffering friend, with my usual teacher "you have got to be kidding, who said they could have an extension" look on my face:

I mean does this look like a face that gives extensions?

The skirt, which I know doesn't look like much to write home about, or blog about, is the Magic Skirt in what they call "scuba knit" these days.

Listen I am hugely amused by this new fabric on so many levels. First off I have seen variations called neoprene.
Now I know from neoprene. I have spent half my adult life yelling "who left their soaking wetsuit in my car? It smells all moldy in there now" (and worse, do you know the old surfer winter trick of peeing in the wetsuit to keep it warm?) and "when are you going to take those wetsuits off the railing on the deck. I refuse to do it and I will let them stay out there all winter if I have to and freeze." (BTW they thaw out nicely in the spring and can go right back in the waves if the swell is good. Just saying.)

I mean neoprene is an all too familiar material in my life and the glamour has long left it (which is more than I can say for the smell in my car).

Also the dressmaker version of this fabric, lightened down to something ambiguously called "scuba knit" is a sort of spongy polyester that our grandmothers made dresses out of in the 60s just in case they weren't already hot enough in their girdles and nylons. I mean we would have laughed at this fabric two years ago but now we want it.

Actually I really enjoyed sewing with it, once I put in a small gauge leather needle and did my old sewing through a Bounce sheet trick to remove static from the needle and eliminate skipped stitches, and will be interested to see if it wears well without pilling.

Oh and my big news.

You know that mesh knit stuff that is available all over the place now? 

It makes the ultimate lining for knits. I discovered this when I saw it lining a silk knit dress by Nicole Miller I bought second hand in that brief time when I lost a lot of weight last summer. You know the time when I thought my diet and exercise program was paying off but it was actually because my thyroid meds were off? Well I can't wear that dress anymore obviously (Matthew McConaughey in the Dallas Buyers Club makes any person feel better about keeping those extra pounds) but it was worth it to find out about the mesh lining.

Breathes, doesn't ride up, and keeps the linee from sticking to your tights.

And finally before I sign off, as a demonstration of my different worlds, here is the same top in Florida with yellow, yes yellow this is Florida, Barb pants in some beautiful stretch fine like butter denim I got at Elliot Bermann. 

Oh and I am aware that my bra strap shows. See notes on photography above. My photographer didn't pick up on that - he was having enough trouble keeping the top of my head in the picture. Lesson here is to either get a new photographer or wear a strapless bra. 

Strapless bras don't cook like angels do they?

And here we are

First off, before I say or do anything else, I have to tell you how very much the comments you all left after I lost Rascal helped me. 

It was tough. 

Of course you never really know if you did the right thing or the smart thing - is there anything else I could have done I ask myself -  but he was very sick, and I did know I did the kind thing.

However after you lose someone, yes that includes animals you care about, not feeling alone really helps.

And you helped me.

I am now in Florida for our annual two months of remote working, golf, knitting, sewing, online ordering of things without shipping charges and duty, shopping for the little girls and new baby, beach walking, canning, and husband cooking eating.

I have decided it is time I just cheered up.

I caught sight of my face in the mirror the other day it and seemed to me that I had a sort of grim look on that face.

You have to watch that sort of thing.

I have a theory I thought up all by myself that the expression you have had most often in your life is the one your face freezes at when you get older. Think about it. Old ladies with bitter faces or interested ones, or old men whose faces are stuck at bully or guileless. 

I am not letting mine get stuck on grim. Particularly if part of that is because of a guy who himself was never either introspective or discouraged. 

Ever.

It is really good to be here in Florida after all of that and having spent the last winter down the deep shaft of another unscheduled Ice Age. 

I hate to be one to talk about the weather, it's pretty ageing in itself, but really this last one was nuts. We had three snow days at school, and my workplace never likes to cancel classes until noon when everyone is in there, and the sort of day after day light grey skies that never changed at all so you finally got to thinking that maybe the sky got frozen stiff like that, like a face,  and couldn't get unstuck and show blue anymore.

The trip down was good, with me getting nostalgic over tiny dusty strips of grass along side the edges of gas stations where Mr. R peed on previous trips, and we had one really nice night staying with my son's girlfriend's parents in Maryland. They have a nice calm house with a nice calm dog and it was one of those visits where it becomes clear to me why their kid has turned out so well.

I am unwinding now from a busy winter term and will be posting about various random projects but before I do that I will finish up my shots and comments on the batch of T shirts I made before I left, for whatever reason I did that.

The pattern was a dolman no brainer now out of print, very much like this current Simplicity:

BTW you remember Simplicity don't you? That would be the pattern company that has put Canada under a trade embargo, probably for sharing Justin Bieber with the rest of the world, and no longer lets us buy patterns here. 

I got my revenge today with a 99 cent sale at Hobby Lobby where they let me buy without checking my passport or anything.

Anyway in working with a similar pattern from the past, as in the bottom of my junky pattern drawers, I made these little numbers, photographed on my dummy as my husband at the time of the photo shoots was trying to get himself flown home from the North Pole to golf in Florida.

Here we go:

I like this one a lot because it is made of a heavy interlock and because I had the presence of mind to cut the neckband on the bias. If you think this looks wrinkled like it had just come out of the laundry hamper where it was waiting for a wash, that is because that is exactly where it came from. No airbrushing going on here.

I got this fabric at a place that sells knits for kids clothes but I realized that when I made this up and had added some ribbing, because the actual single knit didn't have enough body for the cuffs and neckline, that it actually looks like a kid's top. A PJ top even. When I wear this I am very comfortable and start whining that I want to watch one more show before bed.

The top I messed up the neckline with and did a semi save with a cross over V after the original had been surgically removed with chicken scissors.

What that looks like.

Another childlike knit top. If it looks a bit crooked here that is not because I didn't match the stripes, but because the top half of the dressform fell off the bottom half and I did a lousy job putting her back together again.

And where does a sewer go from here?