mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
When I spent the night in the Hilton's lobby, the fact that I can't sleep on Hilton's choices of bedding/pillows was only part of the issue. Michelle is a noisy sleeper and I am a very light sleeper, so it was mostly because she was keeping me awake. However, even when I was left alone in the room, my rest, such as it was, was fitful, full of odd, upsetting dreams. I began wonder if something about being on the 15th floor, where movement of the building would be subtly exagerrated, also held some responsibility. Maybe my body was picking up on it and I just wasn't consciously aware.

Our winter break is over and Seamlyne is once again busy. I've got enough orders in the queue to keep me busy full-time for at least a week, and thankfully I'm not in any danger of missing deadlines (yet). That happy condition will maintain as long as I don't get lazy or sick.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
Ready to be done, and we're only halfway through.

I really hate where I am right now. Not life in general, but this place in particular, specifically the downtown Hilton in St.Louis. I hate the Hilton hotel chain: overpriced and not nearly worth the money they charge. I dislike full-service hotels in general, but it seems that every bad hotel experience I've ever had has been in a Hilton. Why the feises insist upon using them is beyond me. Maybe other people are less critical than I am. That's a distinct possibility.

Seriously, though, give me a Hampton Inn or even a Motel 6 any old day of the week. For the kind of money we're spending we could rent a fucking house for a week. That might be worth looking into if I can break Michelle out of the hotel habit. Yes, there's much to be said for having crashing space in the same facility as the event, but damn. Dafuq, as Katie would say.

I running on very little sleep. The beds are small and Michelle and I aren't. I got very little sleep overnight and Michelle, god bless her, left me in the room to sleep while she and Katie went downstairs but it was fitful. I finally got up not because I was rested but out of frustration.

On the bright side, the chair I'm in is comfortable and I have coffee and WIFI - an emenity you have to earn, apparently, like frequent flyer miles - and the Starbucks in the lobby charges suburban prices. Soon we'll go hunt down some lunch. Maybe eating will make me less crabby.

One more feis tomorrow - same hotel. Katie will be done probably about this time then we'll load up and go home. Home after dark, but that's okay. At least it'll be home.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
I'm glad it's over. No one should be surprised there. What is also done is the post Christmas slump I always fall into after xmas day. I'm looking forward to getting back to a famliar routine.

Irish dance doesn't start up again for another couple of weeks, a fact about which I am profoundly glad. I like being home in the evenings, I like having dinner together at the table. Last week of December was very lean for us, several bills hit all at once and left us with virtually no money in the bank, meaning that I had to get all Iron-Chef-y with meals. We had some protein stockpiled in the freezer, and a little cash in my pocket for vegetables, so we did not at any point go hungry or, indeed, want for a good meal. Who knew leftover purple cabbage and apples makes a good slaw? Being off dance for the xmas break helped a bunch too; I actually had time to exercise my creativity.

I have a performance coming up in a couple weeks, and I kinda wish I didn't. I haven't exactly been filling venues to SRO, and if past experience is any indication, I don't anticipate seeing many faces I know. I think this may be my last public appearance. We'll see. "But Bill, you're so talented." I hear that mostly from people I've never seen in an audience, believe it or not, and in any case if it was true I'd be performing to audiences larger than a half-dozen people, don't you think?

I've picked up the dye-machine project again, recutting the gears in  high density polyethylene - recycled plastic cutting board, to be less pretentious about it. The stuff isn't easy to work, and cutting leaves ugly plastic pin-feathers on the back side of the piece, but that shit is tough as nails and should make strong and smooth running gears. I spent some time this afternoon cleaning the garage from a couple month's worth of detritis build-up, then another hour or two working on the project. I glued the original, wooden gear segments to the base, so had to throw that out and cut a new one. I didn't make a lot of progress on the new gears and had planned to go down after supper and do some more but it didn't pan out. Too many little things left to do before the Monday work day.

For the first time in about a year, the tights queue is empty, which feels really weird. Still plenty to do, but none of it is tights.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
I had no idea while I was in the middle of it just how much, how completely the dress project dominated my life, all aspects of it. I was taking advantage of working from home for my day job, neglecting that work in favor of sewing. Every evening not at dance - and even a few after I got home - was spent on it. We neglected home maintenance, nearly drove ourselves to penury eating out because there wasn't time to cook, scraped the bottom of our dresser drawers because there wasn't time for laundry. It was insane.

Oireachtas is done now, there are no more hard deadlines - at least until March - and I can get back to more or less normal life. I have a couple of tights orders from back in early October that I'll have caught up in the next couple of days, and nothing in the queue that gives me heartburn. A few more tights, a couple of Yeoman uniforms. It's all good, all attainable with a minimum of fuss. The sweatshop work is done for now, though, and I am glad to be home for the foreseeable future.

I have expressed this before, but I hate full-service hotels. Michelle is fond of Hampton Inn and that's cool, but all the major feisiana are held in big hotels, the kind with dudes in hotel livery who can't allow you to schlep your own luggage, where the hotel restaurant is expensive and never worth the cost, and every amenity is charged for. They half-empty your bank account paying for the room and then nickel and dime you the rest of the way.

I
think I'm in a depressive down-swing, and I think that because I have no enthusiasm for music at all. I was invited to play at a local coffee shop, and I turned them down flat. Not interested. I haven't even opened my guitar case since I played for Oasis at the end of October.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
It's been a long day. Good, but long. There were two piles of dance dresses (10 in each, with one dress waiting assembly). Pile #1 needs sleeve hems (three minutes each on average, most of that time spent wrestling the damn dresses into place), shawl velcro, and neck bling. Pile #2 needs all that, but zippers first.The hardest piece of the whole deal is done, attaching the skirts to the bodices. I do believe we'll have all the dresses done for Monday delivery. I didn't anticipate that.

I've had Michelle helping me which makes a huge difference. Right now I've got her working on tights orders, tomorrow it'll be all sleeve hems and neck bling (a string of rhinestone trim zig-zagged around the neck trim.) Beyond having an extra set of hands contributing, psychologically it helps to know that I'm not back there all day doing all this work alone. I like working together, and I think she does too. She's better enough now that she can contribute, and that's making a difference for her general disposition, too.

I was up way too late last night, stressing about an Australia order that will be three days late, and finally got to sleep about 3:30 - at least, that's the last time I remember looking at the clock. I'm nearly falling asleep at this moment, typing most of these words with my eyes closed (I can feel most of the typos when I make them, it's weird.) So, bedtime for me. It's early, but I think I've earned it.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
"Ah'm so busy Ah don't know if Ah lost my horse or found a rope."

Driscoll and I started talking about the dress design back in July or August. Because of other Seamlyne commitments, I didn't start on the prototype until the first of October. By the time the prototype was done and the embroidered pieces were to us, it was just before Halloween. The dresses are due on November 14. Let's do the math: that's fourteen days to make twenty one dresses (and three vests, but they go together quick.) Twenty one Irish dance dresses.

The measurements I'm working from were taken in late July. Between then and now, all of the smallest dancers have grown, meaning all fo the bodices we've made have been too short. Even the older dancers (early teens, I mean) changed enough to make the the sizing problematic. Somehow, I'm not sure how, Brigid (the teacher and owner of the studio) and her mother managed to juggle dresses between dancers until all but one fit somebody. (That one will be a rebuild from scratch, but that doesn't bother me too much.) Her mother also build all the skirts and pinned them to the bodices so all we have to do is stitch.

Tonight, I picked up all of the dresses for their final runs through the shop: permanently attaching the skirts; binding the necks; setting zippers; rhinestoning the necklines; hemming sleeves. We probably won't be done in time for the dealine, but we won't be long past it. There's capes to make after that, but those go together quick, and we can't make those until the dresses are done. Each cape (really just a banner-thingie hanging down the back from the left shoulder) is made for the dress that will use it. The key points - left shoulder, left kidney, right hip - vary by dancer/dress.

The worst part - the making and pinning of the skirts - was done by someone else and is over. I can see an end to the nightmare.

In other news, I finally broke down and ordered a cutting machine. My hands really came away sore from cutting all the velvet, and with that little arthritic reminder I did some shopping and made the call. I had one back in the day, basically an upright reciprocating saw with a rolling base that would cut through 6" of fabric without stuttering, but sold it when we got out of the business back in '06. The new cutter uses a round blade, and will only do up to 2" thick, but that's more than enough for what's going on now. I've got an order for four identical pair of tights that will be a good test for it. Smushed, that's only about 1/2" thick, but that's far more than any pair of scissors I own will cut.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
It's been an exhausting day, and I'm looking forward to turning in.

There's a huge push for dresses for the dance studio, twenty one dresses in fourteen days, and there are too many cooks in the kitchen. Brigid, whose dance school it is and who has the final say on the finished design and who no one bothers to keep in the loop; Brigid's mother, who designed the embroidery; an embroiderer, new to her trade, who also designs and builds dresses and can't separate one from the other, who insists upon making decisions based on how she'd build the dress, which she is not doing; and me, who is drafting the patterns and building the dresses.

It's gotten bad enough that in our meeting with the embroiderer this morning we (M and I) felt obliged to put our feet down and call her on her desision making, saying more than once, 'No, that's not your job. You embroider, we build." ... and, "No, Brigid didn't say that to us about that, so it wasn't said. If she doesn't say it to us, it isn't true. Period."

I'll be utterly shocked if the dresses are done on time. The deadline is November 15th. Twenty-one dresses, three vests. Vests are easy, take about ninety minutes each. Dresses...Not so much.

Today being Halloween, I've spent a good deal of time the last couple of weeks working with the kids on their costumes. Katie's "Princess Leia: Battle of Endor" was already in the works from last year. She was sick and didn't get to go. Her helmet needed some touch up, she made the poncho and pants over the last couple of days. The boots were purchased at Savers last year, over-the-calf flats in her size, bloody miracle I found them. (I buy a lot at Savers things I don't necessarily need but that I know might be hard to find when they're actually needed. I keep a mental shopping list in my head.)

The helmet is a batting helmet with a band of foam rubber, coated with latex caulk to give it a smooth surface. The poncho, simple muslin with spray paint. Pants were leggings I purchased as an experiment from our fabric supplier that I never used, dyed blue. Katie stitched on the stripes.

For Jami, who decided he wanted to be Death of the Discworld, we layered my gravedigger costume (black tabbard with shoulder cape; hooded mantle) over a choir robe ($5, Savers, again), purcahsed boney gloves and a scythe at one of the many Halloween stores. We did his makeup mid-afternoon.

The kids went out to grandma's to celebrate and trick-or-treat. Katie has friends in the neighborhood, Jami really doesn't, and he got tired of being the third wheel and asked to come home and trick-or-treat, then to go back to grandma's. We let him come home, but made him stay home, a restriction that caused a lot of crying and upset. We're trying to teach him that he can't manipulate people into keeping him happy and comfortable all the time, that decisions have to be followed-through, and that sometimes they have consequences. He's eleven, male, and autistic, so self-centeredness and narcisism are pretty much his m.o.

We got past it, and he and I went out together to trick-or-treat his home neighborhood. I hung back and let him do his thing, and we chatted as we walked house to house. He got a lot of compliments on the costume (it's all in the layers!) Later, we went together to get burgers for supper. It turned out okay, but man, what a drain.

Last week at this time, Michelle was coming down with the flu. She's done with the aching and shivering and fevering, but it's left her with a horrible cough, deep, wracking, sometimes just a spasm that needs to be a cough but won't. She is miserable. somewhat functional during the day, but at night the coughs are oh so much worse. We haven't slept in the same room for a couple of months now (I sleep too lightly to share a bed with someone as restless as she is), but I can hear the fits from across the house. I worry for her, but there's not much to do but wait it out.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
At KCRF, the front gate ceremony is going on, cannon is ten minutes away, and I'm snug in my "office" with a cup of coffee, a big (for me) breakfast under my belt, and a long day of sewing ahead. Frankly, I'm not sure where I'd rather be. It's a toss-up.

Two days ago I was caught up on tights orders. Today, I'm starting to fall behind. There's a lot of sewing that came my way over the summer, and if I'd had to freedom to work on it, I wouldn't have fallen behind. With Michelle's health, though, I end up out of the shop more than I'm in it, and the habit of not refusing work is hard to break. I take a great deal of satisfaction in, say, the yeoman guard uniforms, and now I've got some feeling of ownership, a feeling of proprietary jealousy and the idea of someone else making them is unthinkable. I flatter myself to think that whoever comes after me is going to have a lot to live up to, and will spend his/her days cursing my name.

In any case, just generally, I'm about four weeks behind. It's not insurmountable. 
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
Over the last couple of weeks I have dreamed several times that the Morris family has moved or is in the process of moving away from Osage. In the dreams, the house we're moving to is larger or, at a minimum, about the same, In a couple of the dreams, the new house has been a fixer-upper, nothing that I couldn't handle in real life. In last night's dream, the house was on a few acres.

In each dream, I've been happy for the change and Michelle has not. In at least one dream, we were actively fighting about it.

I've no idea what they mean. I certainly don't believe they're predictive.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
I hit all the goals I set for myself tonight, to whit:

I finished the edit and video menu backgrouns for the last Luff school video. The disc is burning right now and if it turns out the way I want it to, by morning it will be retail ready and I can clear the video Inbox (so to speak).

For ten damn years I've wanted an outlet on that wall. Now I can plug in the drill press and the band saw at the same time without running an extension cord across the whole garage. Hoo-rah.

I made a gear. Yeah, okay, big deal, but it is to me. For about a year now I've been thinking of building a machine to do the mechanical work of the dye job - basically: stirring. A washing machine won't work because the fabric bunches in the center and doesn't actually circulate - that, and we only do about two gallons of water at a time. I envision a 5 gallon bucket turning in some sort of rig with "fingers" on the walls of the bucket to force the fabric to tumble and fan out. To do that it needs a motor: I found an ice cream machine at the local Savers, and I'm hoping the motor from that has enough torque to do the job. The gear (in the picture) is the first step in joining the motor to the bucket and slowing down the RPM: I want to tumble the fabric, not spin it.

Anyway, the gear is made from 1/2" plywood, and I made it on my drill press and band saw (see the connection from above?) A much larger one - six times larger as it happens, 120 teeth instead of just 20 - will drive the bucket. I hope. I'm hoping the smaller gear will have a lot of push against the larger gear, in spite of it's small size. It won't take long to find out. The small gear took only fifteen minutes or so to make. The larger gear - the toothy bit divided into four equal parts - can have a lot of it gang cut. We'll see, won't we?

This last weekend I build the locking platform for the bucket: a plywood circle with a rubber ring to fit the bottom edge of the bucket and a locking lever to hold the bucket tight against the ring. Friction and gravity will do all the work of holding the bucket in place while it turns.

If the small motor is indeed too small, I've got a motor that runs at 1,725 rpm, and I can do the math to slow it down to where I want it. Thanks to the wooden gears, I'll be able to do that for $20 or so, instead of the $100+ I estimated using metal pulleys.

Seamlyne is its usual busy self. The queue is full of orders with deadlines, and they're just far enough away to give me some breathing space. I have hopes that I'll be able to finish the dye machine prototype and do some actual work with it. That'd be cool.

The day job is...well, the day job. Not much to report there. Steady as she goes,

Bankruptcy: not official yet, but ever so slowly the pieces are falling into place. We're going to owe our accountant a helluva lot of money by the time it's all said and done.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
Supper is complete, if not cleaned up. That'll come soon enough. Made chinese pork meatballs with homemade teriaki and - while not my favorite - it was quite tasty. The sauce is basic enough that you could add orange juice and make orange chicken or similar; cut back on the sugar and add sriracha for something cantonese or szechuan. It's a good recipe for making it up on the spot.

We found out yesterday that Jami is also on the autism spectrum. Michelle was pretty upset by it, more upset than she let on when she posted on Facebook. For my part, I pretty much already knew, so no great shocker for me. Since putting a name to it doesn't change our day-to-day one whit, I have no opinion as far as that goes. Aspergers. Great, a diagnosis. Now we can apply for assistance. Other than that? No change.

I have a performance coming up in a week, 4,25 at Main Street Coffee House on the Square. I'm hoping to have a couple new songs to perform but there's been little time to work them up, let alone rehearse my usual stuff.

This weekend, lots of sewing and a video I. Am. Going. To. Finish. for Fairmount Elementary. Tired of staring at it.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
I got a new (to me) car.

Since 2004, I've been driving a 2002 Honda Civic, and I drove that thing to destruction. It ran okay, though the front suspension was so far gone that by the time I pulled it into the CarMax parking lot a week ago, the smallest bump would cause the front end to bottom out. Hitting a bump while travelling at speed would cause it to drift, and cornering was - not a nightmare exactly, but you could tell that the nightmare wasn't beyond possibility. They gave me a thousand dollars for it, god bless 'em - the car buyer's version of a sympathy fuck, I'm pretty sure - and it would not surprise me to find that they drove it up a ramp straight into the dumpster.

Through work, here, I got a line on a granny car, a 2004 Mercury Sable with less than 60,000 miles on it, and for a good price. It's a top end Sable, easily the nicest car I've ever owned. Seritas loaned me $4000 and I scraped together the rest of the asking price, and took possession two days ago.

It's got a leather interior and wood trimmings. Double-overhead cam, 3.2 litre engine. New tires. A trunk that'll hold a couple of bodies at least. Premium sound. Power everything. It rides like it just came off the showroom floor.

The thing is, I hadn't really given any thought to the car I was driving. Oh sure, I knew it could be dangerous to drive, but I was familiar with its idiosyncracies and we got along. It was small and zippy (for a four cylinder) and only the second car I ever bought for myself. (The Saturn and first minivan don't count, since they were "family" vehicles.)

At nearly fifty years old, driving a Japanese compact car was ... well, it felt like ... like the cars I drove in college. Small, flexible, quick, perfect for getting around campus and the occasional road trip to Omaha. It wasn't comfortable, but it did the job. The Sable is a mid-size sedan, and it feels like a grown-up's car. A car that isn't as fast or fleet, it's bigger, slower, takes its time and means business. And it's comfortable.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
And just like that, we're homeschoolers again.

Katie has expressed great anxiety over school. The noise and chaos overwhelm her, she's constantly frightened; no, there aren't any particular threats to her person, but the whole atmosphere is an assault on her senses. Her autistic brain just can't filter out the unwanted stimulous, and as a result she's doing poorly in school. She's smart, she has a firm grasp on most of what she's been/being taught, but she can't articulate in any way that can be graded within the curriculum.

Jami has similar problems, though it comes down more to the fact that he is smarter than pretty much everyone in his peer group and the other kids are singling him out for "special treatment." He's not being challenged.

Add to that the Missouri school system is becoming a numbers game, where our children are being treated like dollar signs. Attendance is of the utmost importance because it's tied to state and federal funding and we frequently get letters and/or phone calls on the general subject of, "Where's your kid??" You know, when my children are sick, they're sick; when they have medical appointments, they have appointments; when there's a feis, we travel. Fuck off.

The last quarter of the school year, education grinds to a halt as the teachers start teaching the MAPP test, and our kids don't test well in any case.

So we're bringing the children home.

I'll take Katie to her school tomorrow so she can say goodbye to her teachers and get her stuff. Jami, who has been sick, will go as soon as he's well. Both kids seem...relieved.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
I'm pretty much falling asleep where I sit, so this will be a little more terse than usual. I want to write though. I've got stuff that needs to come out.

I've been sick now (again) since about Thursday, bad enough to be miserable but not bad enough to lay me out. It's moved out of my head (mostly) and into my chest, where the cough does nothing but make my head pound. Katie's sick from both ends - wondering, was it that muffin she had for lunch? - unable to keep anything down, even Sprite. Michelle is on day four or five of a migraine, and she's back to taking percosets which completely fuck her up. Jami is the only one of the family who is more or less normal.

We got letters from the IRS announcing their intention to put a lien against our property, garnish wages, etc. My hope is we can make enough progress with the bankruptcy over the next few days to forestall that action. Between day job and side work/commitments, Michelle has to take care of most of that, but she's having difficulty coping emotionally and, to be brutally honest about it, I've lost confidence that she can handle it at all. With Katie sick, Michelle's mom can't come help her, so I may have to take the project away from her. I don't want to, can't afford to, really, but might have no choice. We don't have time for this shit.

Seamlyne is packed with orders right now, and I'm not making the kind of progress I need to to keep it going on time. Must push harder.

The day job, for once, is the least stressful thing about my life. We're not rolling in the dough like we thought six months ago we might be by this time, but things are stable and trending in the right direction. That's a blessing.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
Recording this here. It's already on Facebook, but that's Facebook, fleeting and unimportant.

Some good news, more good for me than anyone else.

My workhorse camera, a JVC GR-HD1US, popped its power selector a few months ago. I nursed it along for a couple months, where I could find the sweet spot that the plastic cover would sit in and still operate the camera, and then one day I couldn't anymore.

It's a twelve year old camera and uses mini DV tapes. The video world has moved to a tapeless workflow (hard drive or SD card) and the camera itself is out of production, so finding someone willing to fix it has proved challenging. Even JVC doesn't know who could work on it: every Missouri phone number on their list of "authorized service centers" was disconnected. Apparently keeping my money local wasn't to be an option.

I found one company in California who offered to fix the camera - "just ship it to us and wait!" - but web/email only; no human being to talk to. Uuuuuuuhhh...no thanks.

I started on JVC's list again, working my way in an expanding spiral outward from Kansas City and found a shop in the west side of Chicago metro where the tech was not only undeniably human, but friendly and who recognized the camera's issue and has made the repair so often he could ballpark the price without stopping to think about it. (Ballpark because the price of the part fluctuates by availability. It's an old camera, like I said.)

I could probably buy a miniDV camera for cheaper than it will cost to repair this one, but this one was my first so there's some nostalgic value - in addition to just being a pretty good piece of equipment with a few features I haven't been able to find in other cameras.

It's a huge relief. The camera goes to UPS tomorrow.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
This is the second Thanksgiving in a row that I have spent away from home, not with anyone of my family beyond Michelle and the kids. We're in Minneapolis for Oireachtas, which is inexplicably scheduled for Thanksgiving weekend every year. Katie is dancing on a team, and Jami is signed up for only one dance. I wonder if this will be our last regional event. Jami is showing little motivation to dance byond class time, and if you're going to advance you have to "do your homework", as it were. To do it well, it's an expensive sport and you have to treat it like one. The both enjoy the dance, but seem to approach it like a hobby, and I can't drop a thousand bucks every year - and a minimum of $400 for an average feis, four times a year - for a hobby.

Read more... )
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
This is sort of a new thing for me. My left ear is aching deep and sharp, and I have a sore throat where the swelling is causing my lower jaw and neck muscles around the left-side node to hurt. If I don't turn my head to my right, I'm mostly okay, just the usual ouchie you'd expect from a sore throat, but when I do it's really painful through my jaw, neck, and (weird) over the top of my head. I picked Katie up from dance, and by the time I got there - lots of head movement when you're driving, right? - I was miserable. I'm trying to keep the ibuprofen going on a regular schedule, and can really feel it when it starts to wear off.

I got some new toys - or, officially, Map's Edge got some new toys.Read more... )
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
Well, let's see.

Right ear is clogged enough that the minor tinitis (unnoticed except when it is very quiet) I usually suffer from is thoroughly deafening, and my left ear hurts sharply all the way down into my neck. The odd part is that I don't feel sick, at all. I feel generally better than I have in weeks.

Had a big, big code move last night. More than fifty files across a dozen directories. In immediate testing, there were only two issues to deal with. One was a single file that got missed in the move, the other...wasn't my issue. So there.

Thanks to Michelle's efforts, Seamlyne's accounting for 2012-2013 is almost up to date. Once the accountant has all that taken care of and taxes brought up to date, we can begin the real task of the bankruptcy and start rebuilding.
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
This is the last weekend of faire, and I had strongly hoped to be there at least one day, but it's not going to happen. I have a very tall pile of Driscoll skirts to make, fifteen total, and even with help it's going to be all weekend making them. The school has a performance at Weston Irish Festival this weekend, and the kids will miss it so Michelle can stay home with me and help build. Gonna to be a busy busy weekend.

I am desperate for a good night's sleep. )
mapsedge: Me at Stone Bridge Coffee House (music at the coffee shop 2)
1. Haircuts. I don't get them as often as I should, but I always feel so much better afterward. The gray lining in my silver cloud: the tech wasn't particularly careful with the tissue paper and cape, so the collar of my shirt is loaded down with hair clippings. It itches a bit.

2. Hot tea. I'm not a big tea drinker, but I've been using it to help me relax before retiring for the night. Sleepytime Plus, chamomile tea with valerian. Michelle and I have made it an evening ritual to wind down our evening with hot tea before bed, and I've come to look forward to it.

3. I've discovered the value of resale. The Savers store near my office is clean, well-lit, and very organized, managed by someone who obviously gives a damn. (The Independence store is slovenly.) More often than not, they don't know the value of what they're selling.  I stop in at least twice a week and hit furniture, electronics and miscellaneous, bedding, and fashion accessories, always looking for pretty much the same stuff, and about half the time I find "it." This week, I found three belts that as a young ren performer I would have killed to own. Altogether they cost me twelve dollars; offered on the website, they'll bring me somewhat more than that. Costume pieces for sale that I didn't have to build. Joy.

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