It's All About The Boots

I've probably brought this up in these blog posts a time or two:  among my earliest memories is that of my sister and me getting a fancy pair of short, white, go-go boots.  Somewhere, someone in my family has an old black and white photo of the two of us standing on my parents' black sofa (remember it was the 60's) wearing nothing but our go-go boots and dancing to Nancy Sinatra's These Boots Are Made For Walking.  Years later I would come to know the son of the trumpet player on this tune: Roy Caton. Roy has played with greats like The Beach Boys, Elvis Presley, Harry Nilsson, and more.   Roy's son Bruce is a private pilot and personal friend.  Even as I type this I'm hummin' away:  bum--bum-bum-bum-bum to the tempo of the Roy Caton horn solo.  Six degrees of separation right?  Sometimes I marvel at all the fun stuff God does to entertain me.

A number of years ago I began connecting with many ol' friends with whom I went to school.  I guess our kids have grown up enough that all our time is not parsed out among running errands; driving carpool; cheering at games; fittingly clapping at recitals; making breakfast, lunch and dinner; and walking the line between being a domestic goddess and being a hot momma!  Can you believe most of my lady friends are grandmothers!

Reconnecting with friends we are doing some traveling; enjoying ladies' nights out; giving a hand up at charitable functions and comparing notes on such things as home improvement projects, grandbaby stories, and daily beauty routines.

One of my friends whose father was a beloved and  favorite teacher in high school and who was my homeroom teacher for four years, happens to share my interest in embroidery.  About 2 weeks ago she sent me a pattern and had even transferred it to a tea-stained square.  A surprise!  I got busy stitching immediately.

I got to thinking that I might not finish this by the end of the month but wouldn't it make a great Christmas piece if I tweaked it a bit?


Don't they look like three little elf'n ladies which might be busy in Mrs. Santa Clause's kitchen baking all sorts of goodies?  C'mon...you can just imagine!

And here it is fashioned into a pillow.  Don't tell her, yet, but I'm going to ship it back to her and surprise her with my jolly interpretation.

I don't have to speculate, if I know her she'll be kickin' up her boot heels once she opens her box and sees her present.

Birthday Crown

"What do you want for your birthday?" he asked.

"I think the three of us should choose a color and paint the east bedroom.  Get it done in one day"  I smiled sweetly and coyly.

"I was thinking of a trip or jewelry or something like that" he said with a half smile and probably a roll of the eyes.

That's when the conversation stopped.  My youngest, in the back seat of the car was eerily quiet.  She was not about to contribute to such nonsense as discussing a home improvement project for a birthday gift!  I could feel her stare boring hot holes in the back of my noggin.  She is a celebrator.  An entertainer.  Aware of every detail of every bar b cue, birthday party, and slumber party we've ever hosted.  Painting a bedroom to celebrate a birthday is practically profane.

Before the crown moulding

You see, when you are like me and you get a bee in your bonnet wanting something painted or reupholstered or refinished or re-purposed you've got a one track mind.  You're a heat-seeking missile.  A birthday becomes an occasion to rally in your loved ones and achieve some goals!  Yes we can!

After our dinner and on the drive home I chimed in:  "What I really want is crown moulding in the east bath.  We could knock it out in a day and ta-da happy birthday to me!"

Fancy this:  the next morning moulding was in the garage, the saw was humming and tape measures were snapping to and fro. The sound of success!

There was talk of millwork and coping and joints and caulk.  There was the scent of sawdust and paint.  There was the grunt and squawk of the neighborhood woodworkers coming over for a nod and a note of approval all man-like and happy.  I even thought I heard Tim Allen asking for more power and the "aaarrghh-aaarrrgghhh-aarrgghh" tool time call of the manly woodworking beast!





And here she is!  The crowned bathroom.  Topped off quite nicely, don't you think?

I'm only speculating but I think I might take advantage of the next holiday and ask for a new wing on the house.  Columbus Day is in a week.  Mooooorrreee power!  Grunt, grunt, grunt.