Archive for April, 2010
Although I am a dog I know things. Like when it is time to eat. Mom doesn’t need a watch. At 7 in the morning time, or as soon as she’s done yanking her head-fur with the electric heat machine, I know it’s time for breakfast. Dinnertime is precisely at 5pm unless Mom decides to make me suffer and wait. She does this on purpose so that I won’t faint from hunger if I’m always used to eating at the same time and no food comes.
The leash means WALKS!
I like ice cubes. I thought I’d mention that in case you would like to send me some.
I know that when Mom puts her coat on, she usually will want me to tinkle outside. Towels on the bathroom floor mean bath time, followed by much drinking of water and more tinkles.
Suitcases mean it’s another trip. She packs. I help by removing things and bringing them to her. I want her to stay home. I mope.
“Bye-bye” means we’re going some place in the car. My tail goes way up and I move fast before they change their mind. “Up-up” means get in the car. (Wait until they open the door first.) And at the end of the day “Night-night” means it’s time to go upstairs and go to sleep.
I also know the usual commands like sit, down, stay, off, leave it and wait. I also know special things like ” remain.” That’s what Mom says when she and Daddy leave the house with me in it alone. I’m supposed to REMAIN while they leave. I don’t have to be any place in particular, just inside the house. I guess I’m not supposed to unlock the doors or drive the other car or something. STAY would be horrible, as I would have to plant my carcass in one place and not move for many long times.
“To the rug” is what I get told when the door bell rings. We have a rug just for me about 10 feet from the door and that’s my place when people come to the house. Mom wants to make sure any visitors who come are OK with dogs. If they’re not I don’t get up. If they are, I am invited to “go visit.” My new best friends then get to pet me and love on me and I transfer my fur onto their pant legs in return.
And, I can “trash it.” That’s putting things INTO the trash, like paper. Tissue is the hardest because it gets stuck to the roof of my mouth and although I want to let it go it just won’t fall out on it’s own. I can also pick up anything Mom tells me to and hand it to her.
How’d I learn all these things? TREATS! That my best word. I can even spell it.
Here are some very nice dogs receiving treats in slow motion. You’ll want to watch this several times.
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Yes, indeed! The sun shone, the temperature was warm enough, and I might just humbly say, the colors are spectacular! It was the best dye job to date!
With all the dipping, dunking, slathering, and wringing I feel every bone in my body this morning. Oh, and let’s not forget the bending and stretching!
Note to self: The tree is growing. I’m not. Get a ladder next year.
Yes, I “tree dye.” After the panties are imbued with dye (sounds sexier than “slopped with”) I wring them, shake them, admire them, and we hang them on the branches of the blue spruce to cure in the sunlight.
Bright sun = richer colors. More wrinkles as they hang = more tonal variety. Forgetting I already hung one on that particular branch = an extra kiss of color, hopefully in an “OK” place. Hey, you were warned. Inconsistencies are part of the charm. No two pair alike. Fate and all that.
With a 40% increase in participation in the Yo-Yo Sisterhood of the Traveling Panties this year over last, I ran out of tree. I had to use the spindly pine on the other side of the yard, the fence (Hello, neighbors!) and part of Jennie’s old swing set.
Had the neighbors glanced over the fence here’s just some of the colors they would have seen…
I didn’t finish dying until 7pm. Predictably, as the sun set, not all the panties were sufficiently dried. I learned my lesson last year. It’s NOT a good idea to put freshly-dyed, still-wet panties in the dryer. The heat which sets the color on the panties also makes it semi-permanent on the enamel inside the dryer. Trying to exert enough elbow grease to remove the baked-on dye from the inside of the dryer actually requires one to crawl in it, or at the very least insert head, arms, and a shoulder or two. That doesn’t leave much room for scrubbing. And the drum moves.
This year I just hung the damp panties around the house. Your unmentionables hung overnight on chair backs, door knobs, cupboard doors, picture frames, the odd lamp shade, and the chandelier in the dining room. It looked like a clown car exploded.
With the Dying of the Panties, spring has officially arrived. I can’t tell you what a kick it is to imagine all your behinds blooming with bright colors just like mine. Congratulations to us!
If you missed this year’s event, or you just want to keep other people from wearing your underpants, I’ve put the order button back on the web page. As I do my “regular” dying this summer, I’ll fit your panties in as I go. Please note the time-table.
Read a very interesting article about getting stuck in a clothes dryer here. (Thanks, Helen!)
Mom does this from time to time, and I don’t like it at all. The worst part is that she looks so happy about it.
Mom says she’s going on a teaching trip. She says it will be fun. Not for me.
She says she’s going to be teaching for the Crossroads Quilters Guild in Effingham, Illinois on April 13 and 14. People who want to come to her lecture should email Sharon Davis right away so they can all fit in. I wish I could fit in. Dogs like quilting lectures too.
Mom says she’ll be home soon and that she’ll miss me every minute. I bet she will be having such a good time with all the quilters she won’t even think of me at all. I have been to her presentations before, not just the ones she teaches upstairs, and I know what goes on. All the laughing and sewing. I could carry fabric for her, and pre-moisten it in preparation for ironing. I can be a helpful dog.
I hate the suitcases. I try to take things out of them and hand them to Mommy. She just laughs and puts them back.
Mommy will be sharing her lecture “Living With Quilts: A Survival Guide” at the Knights of Columbus Hall, 1501 W. Fayette, Effingham, IL. The meeting starts at 6p.m. I think you should all go and ask questions about me. I am so more important than quilting stuff.
I get more compliments on my $5 Zipper-D-Doo-Dah than any other necklace I’ve ever worn.
I first saw them back in 2004 when I saw another quilter wearing one. I was so excited I almost knocked her over and yanked it off her neck! (I restrained myself, found the supplier, and sold them on my web site until the manufacturer stopped making them.) Well guess what, the warehouse found another case and I got it!
Now you and I can be twins!
Obviously, this is costume jewelry, but it looks great. I’ve worn mine for years and my neck hasn’t turned green yet.
The Zipper-D-Doo-Dah necklace is made of a length of gold-colored chain about 29″ long. It’s fed through a gizmo that looks just like a real zipper pull. Actually, the chain goes into and out of a little round “deal-y” (sorry to be so technical) with plastic inside that grabs the chain somehow. Two little tear drop things at each end keep the chain from unzipping totally.
I have no idea what it’s made of so I took it to a jeweler. He curled his nose and said, “gold plate.” For this price there might be one or two molecules of gold on the thing, but I wouldn’t bet on it. More likely its brass with a thin coating of varnish waved over a 3 x 5 card with the word G-O-L-D printed on it. All I know is that it looks like the real deal, sparkles like the real deal, and I think I look terrific in mine!
You need one too. And so do any friends who sew! You will be rewarded for your generosity!
They’re only $5. That IS amazing! But it gets better. Buy four and get the fifth one FREE if you order before April 5th!
And, the first 300 necklaces will be delivered in a beautiful little organza draw-string gift bag. You pick the color of the bag until we run out of the color you want, in which case I’ll pick the color for you. The gift bag is the only thing you have to decide on. The necklace comes in one color only: fake gold.
Hurry, supplies are limited. Click here to order.