Change


I don’t like small round things. To be honest, they weigh more than paper money, take more time to sort and deal with, and are almost worthless in today’s economy.

For example, the rare times I use paper money, I usually get back 3 or 4 small round things. The reason? Taxes, fees and surcharges added on to my total so that I am spending more than the total listed on the shelf. In the US, the total listed on the shelf is never to the whole dollar amount.

This is a waste, and a ruse to make it harder to know exactly how much my total is until I get to the checkout counter. It’s a pain in the tail. Even when I order online for pickup, the problem is the same. One retailer even charges 12-20 dollars more, hangs on to the overages for 2 weeks, and then refunds my money.

Yet my body can’t handle a full shop. I’m usually iin so much pain by the time I get home that finding the will to live is problematic. The retailer is earning interest on the money that they are holding for those two weeks. They are making more money off of overcharging me for products and services that I need.

Thety claim it is for ‘substitutions’ yet, I specify ‘no substitutions’ on my order. So, either I hire someone to help me shop, costing me more. Or I pay the store more money, in the hopes that I get the money back. The funny part, I’ve gone into the store after a pickup. I didn’t leave the property, to grab something I had on ‘the list’ that I forgot? The substituted item is sitting on the shelf and a name brand item is sitting in my vehicle.

Being of not-sound body is hard enough. There are days I want to scream at these people to at least use KY jelly. Sighs.

Hugs my friends. -L

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Holy smokes.


Morning all, the usual pleasantries, and all that.

I’ve been fascinated for the last hour by a Vietnamese language video on YouTube. This person is a genius! I’ve learned more by watching them than I have reading books or watching English videos on needlework.

Talk about phenomenal stitchery. This person can take thread, and make it look like lavendar petals are coming right out of the fabric. I’ve watched them make daisies, roses and all manner of things. I’m floored.

Now, what does that have to do with the price of tea on Diagonal Alley? Not too much. This person hasn’t spoken a word, but the language of craft is loud and clear. I don’t need a long winded explanation of what to do. I need to see their hands, their fabric, and their thread.

I’ve been watching something called ‘flosstube’ and have been disappointed. Yes, I do stash enhancement posts here. However, I don’t want to see an hour-long video on all the bullsheet somebody bought I want to see what they do with them.

These ‘show and tell’ videos drive me up a wall and down again. It takes me back to 3rd grade. Shudder. Kinda like that old joke where the words “Isn’t that nice, dear.” are code for who gives a flying flip.

Unboxing videos are another thing that drives me batty. It’s a variation of the show and tell again. If I want to know what some company shipped you, I would buy the product for myself. Let me see how the tools are used.

Maybe that’s why I got into the camping videos so much when I started camping again. I wanted to see and learn how to do the thing, not what the tent seams looked like. I feel like Johnny Five sometimes, give me “INPUT”. I know, I am grateful for those who do produce content. I want the meat and potatoes though.

Perhaps that is why I never got into making videos as much. It is important to know which tools to use, but if I don’t know how to do something, or even why to do it, how in the hell am I going to do the thing the tool is meant for? If a body wants to impress me, show me.

A bit of a rant today, but it is what it is. If you are interested in the creator I’m watching it is happyjasu. They have at present 193 videos on youtube, and lovely embroidery work.

Take care my friends, gentle distance hugs. -L

The fabric is lost in transit


Morning all, On June 2nd, my fabric order was supposedly shipped. It’s MIA. Sighs. The other faff I ordered will be here today though. I have other fabric, I know. I have this and that, life is blessed… however, the old saw about keeping a jackass in suspense still holds.

I feel like a jackass.

So, when I order something I need, like that freezer that is still MIA, or the fabric, the gods of shipping know better. Yet, when I order faff that I just want, it arrives with lightning speed. Yuckers.

Okay, the stuff that is arriving today is the things I need to keep the treadles in good repair. It contains belts, oil, new bobbins, those types of things. They have been on the grab it like a rabbit list for about a year. The ice cube trays, well anyone gets between me and a nice iced coffee, well the claws come out.

I can see the karma in action with that. However, the fabric to cover my carcas… what incense can I burn to get that shipment here? Do I need to start dancing nekkid in the moonlight to get it? I know, I know, if it’s not here tomorrow, then the day after, I can request a refund…

I am just throwing a temper tantrum because the fabric isn’t here!

It looks like I will be making yet another dress out of the stash. Hugs my friends. Hugs, this first world problem is just that, a first world problem. I know. I have the ability to track the Amazon delivery driver in real time, I know. However, my fabric….

Whimper. I’m going to crawl into my recliner with some yarn, a book, and some iced coffee. I need to winge about this one for awhile longer.

Hugs my friends, please be kind to your delivery people, they hold the keys to the kingdon. -L

A plan, and a little execution


Morning all, yesterday was quite eventful, and I got to work as soon as I reasonably could. I’ve learned that storage units are reasonably priced where I live. I’ve also learned how much I can cut from my personal budget.

However, I also learned how much storage I have underneath my bed. My goal is to make enough room in my area of the living room for my recliner. I still have work to do, but I will get there.

With quite a bit of help, the mattress was removed from my bed, and the frame was lifted. All of the boxes of things I would have put into storage were placed under the frame after it was swept out.

Then, 2 treadle sewing machines were removed from their bases. I’m going to purchase table top bases for them, and convert them to hand crank machines. I know, spending more money, right?

It’s just more crap you know. After the mattress was put back in place, and my bed was sprayed down with febreeze and made, I redid my bedside table. I topped it off with a wicker unit that holds a couple of books, yet also allows room for a lamp and a small fan.

Then the crap my husband foisted on me went to the garage. One was a box of things he wanted me to give to a friend. Another was a small heater.

The fun part was, he just stared down at his table during this project. There is still some small room under the bed, and I have another box of books that needs to go down there. It will be done today, as well as that particular shelf repurposed elsewhere.

I do love my husband, I really do. However, when he goes off the deep end, it isn’t pretty. There’s nothing I can do to fix him, but I can do something about my side of the living room.

That said, I want to get more work done before my body gives out again. Huge hugs. –L

Nothing but crap


I’m on strike this morning. I don’t know how long this strike will last, but the man I married has gone too far, yet again.

According to him, yet again, I am wasting all of the money I get in. According to him, I buy nothing but crap. Nothing, but crap. The reason for this? The camping and sewing equipment are nothing but crap. So is the knitting, the crochet, my spinning wheel. It’s all crap. My art supplies are crap.

Yet, I do all of the shopping. Every bit of food, every bit of household goods, every item was picked out by me. Everything he wears, I bought.

To top it off? The house is filled to the gills with VCR tapes and such that haven’t been used in 10 years. We can’t recycle any cans or bottles, those have to be ‘saved’, yet everything I bought and have ever bought is crap. Everything I own, according to him, is crap.

Before I go into a screaming fit. I’m done. It’s that simple. I’m done. Who bought and paid for his cell phone and tablet? I did. Who pays the MRC on his streaming services? I do. Who bought the wheelchair and paid for it? I did. I’m so freaking done.

From now on, he can schlepp his happy arse to the stores. He can get exposed to whatever the hell. He can order everything. I am done.

I can’t afford to move out, but I am going to look into a storage unit. The CRAP is going into storage. Screw this, I am so done.

If ya’all don’t hear from me in awhile, check on me please. It means that I’ve been drowned in a pile of cans and bottles that he refuses to get rid of.

Hugs, huge ones my friends. Once I come down from this high horse, I need to think more clearly. -L