Darlings, it is too hot to think. Which is the way things ought to be in the middle of July (let’s not think about August), harking back to primordial memories of carefree summers running around in grubby t-shirts and that one pair of shorts your mom kept meaning to confiscate for the rag bag (though I’m not sure my mother had a rag bag, and if she did it was probably populated with old cloth diapers). This is when the wading pool out in the back yard becomes a hot commodity, not to mention Popsicles, and trips to the neighborhood big pool. Summer just isn’t the same when you have to go to work every day. In general I don’t envy teachers – overworked, underpaid, with way more teachers than there are teaching jobs to go around, constantly escalating job requirements, and an ungrateful clientele (the parents, not the kids). But having the summer off… that might make it all worth it.
Case in point: yesterday was AnniPotts birthday. She had a whole day of festivities planned, starting with a birthday breakfast, then a trip to Indiana to buy fireworks, an afternoon spent with her beau Cuthbert, a birthday cookout in the communal backyard behind the row of town houses where Mariah, Rosie, AP, and I live, and then a fireworks display in the alley behind the Family Homestead. AnniPotts likes to have fun-filled birthdays, and this was a particularly good lineup. And the only things I could be part of were the cookout and the fireworks. Because I had to work.
Oh, the trials of the gainfully employed!
Of course, me being me, I had managed to make a prior commitment for the evening before I found out about AnniPotts plans. Months ago Godiva asked me if I wanted to go see Joss Whedon’s Much Ado About Nothing whenever it finally made it to The Neon. Which happened to be Tuesday. So I ended up heading over to catch the beginning of the dinner cookout (and missed, since no one showed up on time except me), and then headed off to watch Much Ado (which was so, so awesome, by the way, better than the Branagh version, if only because Hero’s father is Agent Coulson. And also, I would totally have taken Don Pedro over Benedict, I don’t care if he is Wesley.), and then headed back to snarf down some hot dogs, followed by fireworks, including an incredibly awesome birthday cake. This included standing in a line in the empty lot behind my parents’ house, shooting off Roman candles, which always makes me feel like I’m participating in the Defense of Hogwarts. Which was awesome.
Speaking of Hogwarts, one thing you might not know about sewing your own clothes is how many movies seem to be involved. This isn’t just mining movies for inspiration (though there’s more than one movie I’ll watch just for the clothes – e.g. the only thing I like about National Treasure is the dress the female love interest wears in the party scene), but having something to keep you company while you’re, say, hand sewing twenty million miles of seams on a wrap sweater. Like I did on my work Pavlova last weekend. I was determined to finish that sweater if it killed me, and I think it nearly did. I sewed through seven episodes of Downton Abbey, The Queen with Helen Mirren, and the entire second season of Sherlock. And it still wasn’t done.
I began to see that this was going to require some serious movie ammunition, not just to finish the Pavlova (all done now, thank God), but for the other sweaters I have planned. So, hands sore from sewing, a little loopy from lack of sleep, I logged into my library account and started requesting movies. I might have gotten a little request happy. For some reason, it occurred to me that maybe I might like to rewatch the Harry Potter movies, plus the third season of Downton, and I forget what else. I figured that, of course, not all of it would come in at once, and I’d have stuff to watch for the rest of the summer.
When I went to the library on Tuesday to pick up what I thought would be just a few things, I discovered that everything had come in. All at once. Plus a bunch of stuff that I asked for months ago, and had half despaired of ever getting. All at once. Four or five sewing books, two vintage fashion books, a new book by a science fiction author I’ve been waiting for, The Rule of Metaphor by Paul Ricoeur, Household Tips of the Great Writers (so awesome), an architecture picture book, and I forget what else. And then there were the DVDs. All of Harry Potter except for Prisoner of Azkhaban, Downton Abbey season 3, and Wallander (which I think I requested solely because of Tom Hiddleston – le sigh). It was an embarrassment of riches, and I do mean embarrassment. So, you know, guess what I’m going to be doing for the next week.
Oh, and your work wardrobe photo shoot is in the works, and you’ll have something just as soon as I can coordinate a time with Indy, sometime after the weather breaks so I won’t look like I’m melting in my clothes. So… September? Maybe?