Clearing the deck for action

Five black tank tops! I had five black tank tops! BK came over and I modeled my wardrobe for her. Some of my favorites ended up in the discard pile, too big or unflattering, victims of my unwillingness to invest the time and energy to completely remake them. Even if they no longer serve me I have a hard time letting go of things. The alterations pile was plenty deep, fortunately most of it was quickly dispatched. Elastic was replaced in one pair of pants and three skirts,while another pair of pants and a dress were combined to make a skirt, several tops received either shoulder darts or seaming up the back. The waistband of pair of dress shorts was taken in too. The last time I wore the shorts, the weight of my  house keys, cellphone, and overladen change purse combined to drag the pants lower on my body than I was comfortable with. When I discovered that I could pull them off without unzipping them I knew something had to be done.

While I was at it, I added new elastic to six pairs of Husband’s boxers. Heat and humidity seem to be the natural enemies of elastic, NOB by the time the elastic is shot the item is old and worn, not so in Yucatan! I bought a 100 meter roll of half inch elastic a couple of years back and it was a good investment. I am mulling over whether to buy some other widths in similar quantities. Unless I start sewing again in earnest it doesn’t seem like a great idea.

Clearing out the closet has shown me that there are definite holes in my wardrobe, I won’t burden you with those details. A few days of furious sewing will take care of that lack, or I can have a seamstress make them up. I love having that option, being able to have someone else sew for me. It frees me up for other things.

Among those other things, I have been working on a book about food and it’s role in good health. I’m very excited about it, food is something that I am passionate about. So please forgive me if my blog posts are a bit sporadic these days, I am not falling off the face of the earth.

Lies, insinuations, and innocence in the Yucatan

We all create our own reality. We see things through our own filters. I believe that. My Mexican experience is totally colored by my perceptions and attitude. I like to think of myself as friendly and helpful so of course I believe that most people are friendly and helpful.It doesn’t hurt that I have grey hair and look like your mother.

Case in point, Sunday, BK, another girl friend, and I decided to check out the crafts fair at the Siglo 21. BK greeted me by saying,“There’s a noise under the hood because a piece of plastic has come loose and is flapping in the wind. I’ll have the mechanic check it on Monday”. In March, the Honda had been a victim of a hit and run accident while parked on an otherwise empty street. The bumper had suffered some damage along with the undercarriage. The dealership was supposed to have replaced the plastic housing, apparently they hadn’t fastened it well.

As we traveled down the road, the noise got progressively louder. Arriving at the convention center, we drove around the side to the parking lot. As we passed over a raised cross walk, a sweating middle-aged policeman flagged us down. He motioned to BK to roll down her window.

Leaning into the window, he gravely intoned, “Something beneath your car is scraping the road”.

“Oh, my, thank you. Thank you so much for informing us.” I rudely talked across BK, knowing that her Spanish wasn’t up to the challenge. “As soon as we park, we’ll check into the situation.”

I assumed that having pointed out the problem, we were free to go, but I was wrong. The officer had more information to impart.” You are damaging the roadway.” Shaking his head he frowned,”That is a very big infraction, damaging the public highway. You could get a very big fine.”

“Goodness, how horrible, I am so glad that you warned us. We will take care of it immediately once we park.”

Officer Good Samaritan pointed vaguely towards the parking lot on our right, “You can park right there.”

Once again, thanking him profusely for taking the time to impart his words of wisdom on us, BK wasted no time zipping into the parking lot.

BK being the practical woman that she is,coupled with the fact that the car is over twelve years, the Honda’s trunk holds an interesting assortment of things from duct tape to jumper cables. While I gingerly squatted on the pavement hanging on to the bumper while deftly avoiding sitting directly on an oil stain, she fished around in the trunk. I peered at the undercarriage, where a tattered and ravaged sight greeted me. The housing didn’t look new, it looked like the dealership had used heavy duty zip ties to secure the worn and decrepit looking housing. Many years of relentless Yucatan heat had turned the plastic fragile and friable. The purple zip ties however, were in pristine condition, they had held up just fine, dangling like cheap hoop earrings, decorative but not functional.  My long dormant macramé skills called into play, I passed the rope through various apertures,  tying it off to the bumper with each pass. The bumper now resembled a birthday present wrapped by an over ambitious two year old, but it was in no danger of gouging holes in the obviously delicate macadam.

Homeward bound, we passed the same pedestrian crossing, our good Samaritan was lounging in the shade. Spotting us, he sauntered over, while motioning me to roll down my window. Beaming my brightest 1000 watt smile, I gushed, “Oh, thank you so much again.You see we fixed the problem.”

Once again, I was incorrectly expecting a more brief exchange of words.He once again leaned on the vehicle, looming over me, while accusing me, not BK the driver, but me, the passenger, “You took off. I directed you to park and instead of parking, you ran away. That is a very serious infraction. Very grave indeed.”

Totally astonished at what he was telling me, I explained, ”A thousand pardons. It is the fault of my very poor command of the Spanish language. I am so very sorry but I totally misunderstood. I did not realize that you were going to help us with our problem. You are such a gentleman, but you see we solved it ourselves.” I often sound like a character from the Arabian Nights when I speak Spanish.

“This is quite a problem.” He shook his head and looked very serious. He was getting a little flushed from the sun too.

“As you can obviously tell, Spanish is not my native tongue. I know it’s a problem so I am taking classes. You are right, I am so very sorry that I misunderstood. You are so kind and helpful. Well good-bye now and thank you again.” I must of interrupted his train of thought, totally derailed it in fact, because he mutely waved us on his objections mowed down by my rapid fire explanation.

Later, when I recounted my tale to Husband, he burst out laughing. “Poor man, he never had a chance.” At which point it dawned on me. Our good Samaritan was really fishing for a bribe, what was he supposed to have responded to my flowery praise? “I’m sorry madam, you misunderstand me, I am a scoundrel and extortionist.”

I expect the best of everyone, and they have no choice but to live up to my expectation.

Somebody please explain it to me.

As a procrastinator on a professional level,I do a lot of web surfing. I like to blame it on Pinterest, but pinning just makes it seem more like I am accomplishing something. I have ways to justify my habits, I am doing research, I am refining my tastes, and I am learning new things. Mostly, I just lose track of time, my sense of time is not good. I can be on time, I can stick to a schedule but I have no way of judging how long something will take or did take unless I use a watch.

Back to my theme. I keep seeing blog posts and pins that I don’t understand. The bleach pen phenomena for instance. There seems to be a trend to stencil or draw on clothing with a bleach pen. Admittedly, it is a cool looking effect. But, here is my problem, it’s BLEACH. You know the stuff that rots fabric even burns holes if left full strength. Are the bleach pens some sort of magic formulation that doesn’t weaken fibers? Or do the people not care that the designs they carefully created won’t last? Is this just a continuation of the disposable mentality? Because it doesn’t make sense, the same people who advocate upcyling (the new term for re-using stuff) use the bleach pens.

The other trend I can’t wrap my head around is making planters out of furniture. I am not talking about the occasional headboard in the garden bed.

Or turning a chair into a planter by removing the seat and replacing it with either a pot or wire mesh. I understand those. I even like the chair planter idea quite a bit.
I think that reusing old containers can be charming, if done right.

What I don't understand are dressers, nightstands and armoires turned into planters. Yes, they look great, they are interesting in the funky style that I love. However, no where in any of the many versions that I have seen does anyone seem to address the issue of the wood rotting.

Can you imagine going to all this trouble only to watch your creation disintegrate? I don’t even think it would be good compost since the dresser are painted. Wood and water don't do
 well together.


These are beautiful plantings. The staging is outstanding. It seems to me that is exactly what these furniture re-purposings ( repurpose is a more contemporary way of saying making do or using what you already have) are, stage dressing. I have the sneaky suspicion that these pieces were bought for the express purpose of doing these displays. The blue dresser looks like it’s in excellent condition.



There also seems to be a trend of faux recycling. I applaud the people who take clothes that no longer fit or are out of style and change them into something new and useable. I understand buying sheets or large shirts to use for the fabric.I occasionally toy with the idea of taking the refashion pledge, where you vow to only buy 2nd hand and refashion rather than buying new items. There are variations of the pledge, where everything has to be 2nd hand or pledges where you will make all your own clothes. I find these ideas appealing.

.What I don’t get are the refashions where the originator buys two brand new tee shirts to cut up and create a garment. Why not just buy fabric? What is the goal? Part of the refashioning ethic is that you are not supporting sweatshop labor or the disposable lifestyle. If you are buying two cheap tees aren’t you doing the opposite?

Like I said, I don't get it? Do you?