Properly Awry

Capes I made for my nephews:

and proof that they work:

I decided my hobby, for the time being, shall be quilting.  I can do most of it in front of the TV, so I can continue to fuel my addiction whilst doing something rather than not.
In order to ensure that I actually do this and don't just spend countless hours thinking about maybe doing it, I have gone ahead and ordered fabric with the intention of making a quilt for my brother's upcoming baby. 
I have already spent hours picking fabric from Spoonflower and designing something that will look cool but should not be an overextension of my non-abilities.  I'm hoping this works out, as I love fabric and it will give me an excuse to source cool textiles and do some original design work on the quilts themselves.


When the fabric arrives, I will start on my Monster Tree quilt:


Of course, I have to get one of the 3 sewing machines I currently have in my house working first....

After catching a couple of episodes of Season 2 of Sons of Anarchy, I went out and bought the Season 1 DVD's so I could start from the beginning.  Normally I don't like to go backwards, but in this case I made an exception and am glad I did.

Amidst the blood, guns, sex, and drugs is heart.  These people are into some pretty bad shit, but the viewer roots for them, because we can see the club truly cares for one another, and for those around them and will go to any lengths to protect them and theirs. 

The dialogue doesn't give me the same thrill as that in Justified, but the acting is probably the best that's been on TV in a long time.  It is a rare show that has 3 strong powerful leads surrounded by equally powerful supporting actors, and they all make it look effortless.  They all bring a truth to the heart of it all.  Seeing these tough bikers break down tears your heart out.  For me, it also reminds me of my childhood and my dad's friends.  I see the truth, I know that these tough people, who many might fear purely based on leather and tattoos, can be more of a family than blood relatives, that they take brotherhood seriously, that family means something.

I am reminded of the jeans and leather and tears at my father's funeral.  I am reminded that perhaps I am lucky, to have been raised to not judge a book by its cover, to have seen that these scary bikers are people with families and friends, and that there's nothing wrong with wearing jeans and a leather vest rather than a suit and tie every day.  I know I'd rather wear jeans than skirts and blouses and goddamn high heels.

It seems there is a shift in the wind, something coming, on the horizon (little people converging marching toward us, over the mountain).  Friends are talking about having kids, trying to have kids, babies, babies, babies.  I know my mind has certainly shifted from where it was 3 years ago.  I still see both perspectives, on one hand I see the world is not a nice place, I see technology, the school system, the class system, and how it is different than when we were kids, how it seems like society is a festering wound that children grow up in.  They are defenseless, and so many of them out there right now are such spoiled assholes.  Part of me, the part that devours post-apocalyptic fiction, sees the end of the world, and thinks what's the point, really?

But then, then I see my nephews, or my friends' kids, and they do something good, or say something sweet; and yeah, they probably cry at some point too, but so far, they are all so good, with their different backgrounds and different parents, so far, none of them is a totally spoiled asshole. 
And that must mean, that if you are good and loving parent(s), and surround your kids with good and loving, and laughing people, and expose them to things other than TV and video games, it must mean that even in this festering society, we will be able to bring good people into this world.  It must mean that good people like us and our friends should bring good people into this world, otherwise there will be no one to counteract the upcoming assholes. 

I realized recently that I have an accidental past time - I collect father figures.

Not in an Electra kind of way.  In a purely innocent, put them on a pedestal, try to get their attention, try to please them kind of way.
I realize I have been doing it for years, long before my father actually died, and I have quite a collection.  Teachers, bosses, co-workers, friends' fathers....

I'm thinking none of them ever had any idea, and wondering if any of them ever thought I was a total psycho. Guessing that, since my father died a veritable stranger to me, I am now destined to continue collecting unsuspecting dads.

Huh.

Ahh, the long weekend...and, it's pouring rain outside.  Not that that's much of a surprise, I would guess if I bothered to look up statistics on Good Friday weather in the Lower Mainland it would probably say that it rains 95% of the time.  Some would say the rain is tears for Jesus.  I would not be one of those some.

Working in a non-government related job means that what was once a 4 day long weekend is now just 3 days, but I've taken the Monday off anyhow to make it 4 again, it just seems right.  4 day weekend, and no there are no travel plans, we learned our lesson on that one years ago.  Family dinner tonight at mom's, since we did Christmas dinner at our place.  Nope, no major plans, I took the extra day off so that I could (go to the spa? get my hair done? go shopping?)...paint the guestroom.
In my house, I am the one that does the painting, tiling, laying of floors, picture hanging, etc.  My husband is the one that does the cooking, and most of the cleaning.  Garden and plants - I kill them generally because I forget they even exist and leave them to fend for themselves, he does not.  I am the one that works 10 hour days, meaning away from home for 12 hours a day.  I am the one that does our finances, pays the bills, does our taxes.  My husband generally has no idea how much money we have in the bank, and if you asked him how much money we made last year it is highly unlikely that he would know. 
Is this weird?  I don't think so. I don't think it makes me less feminine or him less masculine.
I think it is just balance, and our balance just happens to be opposite of what most would perceive to be the standard.

We, 14 others, 6 dogs, and a baby spent the Canada Day long weekend at Rancho Relaxo on Pender Island.  There was much consumption of booze, food, and fun had by all.