OK, folks, you can’t say I didn’t warn you. I am doing it right now, right here at the beginning of the post. Yes, there are clowns in here. Enter at your own risk. I am not saying they are the worst or scariest clowns ever, but just know that they are here.
I think there may be some light at the end of the tunnel; there are snowdrops blooming right outside my door, and I can almost make it to the mailbox without ice cleats. Yes, spring may be on the way, and not a moment too soon, if you ask me.
We’ll take it slowly at first. We had some real problems with this little figurine:
Compare the kitty and the yarn to the size of the chair. Just how big is that cat? If you are going to portray a pet lion, make it look like one, for heaven’s sake. Seriously, if I had a cat that large, the last thing I would want is to have it make a habit of getting on the furniture, because the next thing you know they are going to want to sit on your lap, and then where would you be, other than a cat pancake?
It’s funny that we don’t show more jewelry, as this is the sort of display that greets us at ARC every week:
Those are three-sided racks on each side of the case filled to the brim with jewelry. We paw through them faithfully every week and sometimes we come up aces with a good piece or two. Most of it is negligible, and not much is even funny, but there is an exception to every rule:
Sorry we couldn’t get a better photo of this, but you get the gist of it. What might be missing is the fact that it is a pin and a set of earrings, and the icing on the cake was the rhinestone eyes that were suspended on each piece making them wiggle and shimmer. So chalk it up as a glitter smiley face. All those folks suffering along with a plain old vintage ’60s button will be so jealous. These must have been the highbrow pins of their day. (Note: actually, they are not that old. Probably ’70s at the earliest, judging from the construction.) We decided, even with our varied and odd taste in jewelry, that these were not either one of us, so we left them there and moved on.
On the other hand, these signs are definitely us:
How many moods do you know that are totally dependent on a beverage? This is probably one of the biggest. The only other drink that comes close is this:
Honestly, this sort of sums up an average day for us. Coffee to keep from killing our spouses first thing in the morning and wine to close it out, and wait … keep from killing our spouses. I think I see a trend here.
Both Deb and I tend to wander off on a dolly tangent now and then. Dolls that are not Barbie, or even fashion dolls do manage to creep into our collections. We try to keep it to a dull roar, as our shelves are crammed full as it is, but now and then it happens. I am happy to report we did NOT buy these to make some new additions:
What is wrong with an unadorned roll of toilet paper, or a pristine bed? You bet your bippy that they are a better option that any of these. I feel that all that free time and a crochet hook could be put to better use. Just in case you are not convinced, here is the back:
Come on, crochet a scarf or mittens for a frozen Chihuahua, or a bikini for a nursing mama cat. OK, maybe that last one is not a viable option. Let’s go with a pouch for one of those orphan baby koalas in Australia. I will even let you put ruffles on it, if you cease and desist with the bed dolls.
Well, I have put it off as long as I am able. Here we go. First up:
He was terrifying. We were thankful that he was encased in a plastic bag, and we were hoping that did the job of smothering him, as we wouldn’t want to see him running around out on his own. Honestly, why would you waste good paper mâché on this? If you must do it, make him into a piñata and give folks the satisfaction of giving him a big old wack on the side of the head.
Then this bag showed up right nearby:
At this point our survival instincts kicked in and we began to tread very lightly. Where was the next one? We crept around corners, furtively peering ahead, jumping at every loud noise, tiptoeing down the aisles, and sure enough:
Yep, a full-on infestation. There were more, believe me, but it was just too much to take. We departed the aisle like there was, well, a herd of clowns behind us. We beat a hasty retreat to the relative safety of the craft aisle, where we were only mildly assaulted by bed doll patterns, and lived to tell you all the story.
We sure hope that the folks who dropped off the clown collection were able to get the help they needed. That kind of trauma deserves some therapy.
Take care this weekend, as we switch back to Daylight Saving Time on Sunday morning. This is the hard one, folks, so be careful. Maybe it’s best to stay in bed with a good book on Monday; tell ’em I said so.