The newest issue of Hemmings Classic Car features the Nash Rambler. Its even smaller cousin, the Nash Metropolitan, is one of my dream machines. Imagine the sheer incongruity of my dream garage: 1, a black 1968 Dodge Charger; 2, a blue Cadillac from between 1914 and 1930 (not quite brass radiator); 3, a two-tone, pink-and-white or turquoise-and-white 1954 Nash Metropolitan. Muscle, Beauty, and Girly!
....while riding in my Cadillac, what to my surprise
A little Nash Rambler was following me, about one-third my size....
Showing posts with label yes I'm strange. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yes I'm strange. Show all posts
Friday, April 17, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Vintage pattern dress for Bluebonnet
All three of us will be in the wedding of My Knight's best friend, hereinafter known as Harley Guy, and his dear fiancee, whom I'll call Color Girl. It'll be a pretty retro (creatively anachronistic, if you like) wedding. The pattern I found for Bluebonnet's flowergirl dress is actually from the 70s but I think it will work for soemthing older. I'm trying it out now in some fabric left over from one of my own dresses, a blue-and-yellow vertical stripe cotton. That dress has been a favorite of mine for about five years. Bluebonnet's dress will look pretty cute with rickrack around the bottom.
There's still enough fabric left that I think her ragdoll will have a matching dress, too.
There's still enough fabric left that I think her ragdoll will have a matching dress, too.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Building relationships and keeping in touch
Apparently I had a good idea.
In a discussion in an email group about building relationships in fellowship in our churches, I suggested a way of starting. My idea was to start at the beginning of a church's directory and try to call everyone in turn. If the first family doesn't answer this time, leave a message and call the next (that is, if no one answers at the Alberts' house, call the Andersons, and so on).
The same thing could apply by sending little notes or postcards to everyone. You could also do this for keeping in touch with other friends or the people in a club.
At any rate, my suggestion was well-received.
Why is it that I can come up with ideas when someone else needs a solution to a problem, but I have few ideas for myself? I'm notorious for this! My mother has gotten all kinds of interesting solutions, from decoration ideas to programs for PEO, that way.
In a discussion in an email group about building relationships in fellowship in our churches, I suggested a way of starting. My idea was to start at the beginning of a church's directory and try to call everyone in turn. If the first family doesn't answer this time, leave a message and call the next (that is, if no one answers at the Alberts' house, call the Andersons, and so on).
The same thing could apply by sending little notes or postcards to everyone. You could also do this for keeping in touch with other friends or the people in a club.
At any rate, my suggestion was well-received.
Why is it that I can come up with ideas when someone else needs a solution to a problem, but I have few ideas for myself? I'm notorious for this! My mother has gotten all kinds of interesting solutions, from decoration ideas to programs for PEO, that way.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Dreams
If you expect something profound in this post, from the title, you'll be disappointed!
Someone once, none too poetically, likened dreams to the garbage can of one's mind. I think he was correct, in that dreams do seem to mix up a myriad of mental images and randomly assemble them in ways that rarely, if ever, make any sense. I've had occasional dreams that make perfect sense in the light of day...emphasis on occasional.
But really. Last night's dream? The four of us who were constant companions the first year at Cottey (Crys, Ratty, Texas, and Wenonah, aka Beeper) had been hanging around together- which is hard to accomplish now, as we live in three different states! There were pictures of Ratty holding Bluebonnet- Ratty has never seen Bluebonnet at all. Texas, Crys, and I, were relaxing in a hot tub- into which, for some reason, Crys floated alphabet blocks before she got in herself.
she's going to laugh at me and never let me live this one down when I tell her about it, miss Ghost Pirates.
Someone once, none too poetically, likened dreams to the garbage can of one's mind. I think he was correct, in that dreams do seem to mix up a myriad of mental images and randomly assemble them in ways that rarely, if ever, make any sense. I've had occasional dreams that make perfect sense in the light of day...emphasis on occasional.
But really. Last night's dream? The four of us who were constant companions the first year at Cottey (Crys, Ratty, Texas, and Wenonah, aka Beeper) had been hanging around together- which is hard to accomplish now, as we live in three different states! There were pictures of Ratty holding Bluebonnet- Ratty has never seen Bluebonnet at all. Texas, Crys, and I, were relaxing in a hot tub- into which, for some reason, Crys floated alphabet blocks before she got in herself.
she's going to laugh at me and never let me live this one down when I tell her about it, miss Ghost Pirates.
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