All right, all right, all right. I did finally get that pocket put in. It is not the greatest but it will do. I am pretty happy about it and will be wearing that dress a lot more often now. So how many days and weeks and months and hours did that take me?
Several thousand, I reckon.
And then I pulled another dress out of the closet that I do like but almost never wear because it doesn't have pockets and I rectified that situation in about twenty minutes. The dress is one I got at the World Market a long time ago and it's similar to that beloved old hippie staple- the Mexican wedding dress. Or what we called Mexican wedding dresses. You know- embroidery around the neck and related areas.
It's the softest dress ever but without a pocket, it was useless to me. Mostly. I started embroidering around the edge of the pocket I made out of a piece of old tablecloth, but I think I may abort that mission for now at least. It wouldn't match the embroidery the dress already has on it. I don't know. But I do have a pocket. It's not exactly a perfect match for the dress but oh- who cares?
Not me.
I have done almost nothing besides pockets today. I haven't done one darn thing outside except to take the trash and go by the post office. And I do feel guilty about that but more than feeling guilty, I feel as if I have cheated myself. Even though I spend a lot of time on my back porch, it's not the same as being outside outside. I haven't even so much as picked a pepper. Or a cherry tomato. Or even taken out the compost. Oh wait! I did walk the cardboard throw-aways out to the burn pile. That doesn't even count.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will do some things outside. I need that. Even when it's too hot and the mosquitoes are out (and hey! cases of Malaria have popped up around here!) I feel better about myself and the world in general if I've spent some time out of doors.
I have added a few more things to my get-rid-of-pile. I also took two items to the dump that needed badly to go there but that I've been hanging onto for some stupid reason. One was a sort of stained glass panel that was obviously someone's first attempt at that art and I'm fairly sure it was being self-taught. The other was a Thomas the Tank engine folding lawn chair for children that none of my grandchildren have sat in in forever and which has been folded up and leaning on the porch wall and was mildewed and useless.
I threw that one in the household goods bin and I left the faux stained glass leaned up next to the compactor in case anyone wanted it. I doubt anyone will but you never know. The guy who is in charge of the dump today was sitting in a rocking chair that I'm sure someone left and that he saved. There's a tiny little shed that the workers can sit in that has air conditioning which I am sure is a life saver. There's also a TV in there which I'm certain was another save. The AC might have been too. I waved to the man in the rocking chair and he gave me a horizontal peace sign. I felt like Snoop Dogg's great aunt or something. Which pleased me.
I remember when I was married to my first husband and we lived for a few years in a ten-by-fifty foot trailer on a piece of land we'd bought a few miles down the road from here, basically in the woods. We were going to try and build our own house but, well. Mmmm.
That didn't happen.
We did eventually buy an old house in Monticello and had it moved to the property and the ex and another friend of ours who was an actual carpenter, fixed that house up pretty nice and I loved it so much but that's not what I meant to discuss.
No. What I meant to discuss was how fucking hot it was in that trailer. It was horrible. It was hell. It was one tiny sliver away from unbearable. And so, one day we went to Tallahassee where we bought a used window unit air conditioner, installed that bad boy in the window of our bedroom which was basically a tin sweat box with one window in it, and oh my god- it was the best thing ever.
We laid there that night on our bed with the Indian print bedspread tacked on the wall and we were chilly.
And you know what? We felt guilty. We thought about all of our friends who were sweating in their beds in the shed/shacks with latrines that they'd BUILT themselves and here we were, luxuriating in artificially cooled air in our red shag carpeted trailer with running water and a bathroom. I mean, we were breaking all sorts of back-to-the-land hippie codes. I probably even had some canned beans in the kitchen cabinet.
We did eventually buy an old house in Monticello and had it moved to the property and the ex and another friend of ours who was an actual carpenter, fixed that house up pretty nice and I loved it so much but that's not what I meant to discuss.
No. What I meant to discuss was how fucking hot it was in that trailer. It was horrible. It was hell. It was one tiny sliver away from unbearable. And so, one day we went to Tallahassee where we bought a used window unit air conditioner, installed that bad boy in the window of our bedroom which was basically a tin sweat box with one window in it, and oh my god- it was the best thing ever.
We laid there that night on our bed with the Indian print bedspread tacked on the wall and we were chilly.
And you know what? We felt guilty. We thought about all of our friends who were sweating in their beds in the shed/shacks with latrines that they'd BUILT themselves and here we were, luxuriating in artificially cooled air in our red shag carpeted trailer with running water and a bathroom. I mean, we were breaking all sorts of back-to-the-land hippie codes. I probably even had some canned beans in the kitchen cabinet.
And that trailer was luxurious to us. We'd moved in there after living in the house we rented for $75 dollars A YEAR that had holes in the walls and floors and no running water and an oven that sort of exploded if you tried to use it, with doors made out of planks. It looked not unlike this house.
We froze our asses off in the winter and sweated through the summers. Baby Hank used to play in the canning kettle I'd pump water into in order to let him cool off on the hottest days.
And yet, I sort of loved that house and as I always say, I am grateful for my experience of living in it. In its own very basic way, it was beautiful.
Ironically, it burned down years later when a couple who lived in it installed an air conditioner in their bedroom window. The wiring in the house was beyond funky and as the story goes, the guy of the couple was a drug dealer and the fire took hold so quickly that they were lucky to get out with their lives but all of their drug dealing cash went up in flames.
So living in that trailer was like living in the Palace of Versailles for us. And Lord, did we appreciate that chugging, noisy air conditioner.
Well I had no idea that was what I was going to talk about today which is how it usually goes here. Mr. Moon is back on land and we have not lost our electricity unlike last week. It did rain for a hot minute which made things so steamy that when I walk out the door my glasses steam up to the point where I am blinded but as with the pockets- oh, who cares?
Here's another picture of the ginger I started from a grocery store root along with my mango that I started from a Roseland mango seed that came from a tree that I ate the fruit from as a child.
Ginger on the left, mango on the right.
And here are some more zinnias.
Fabulous trip Mary- i really should have known you way back then- I would break codes with you . Is that the actual house??? with the damned chimney falling away?
ReplyDeleteI like pockets so much that I have three pocketty vests that I wear every season except summer. I probably look like a big old girl scout but do we care, no we don't. Pockets are essential, I used to wear aprons too , to catch falling fruit and to carry stones from the river. Sometimes a kitten, that was my favorite.
No. That is not the actual house. I'm not sure I have a picture of it. It looked something like that.
Delete"A big old girl scout..." That made me laugh.
I, too, wear aprons sometimes with big pockets and you made me laugh with your comment about the kitten because I had written a friend that the pocket I'd put in that dress was so big I could carry a kitten in it.
And I am not making that up either!
We just began making vests when a customer brought her about to be purchased vest and asked if we could put a little pocket on the front where she could carry her bus token. We cheerfully took it back to the studio and added it and to all vests thereafter, and to all clothing that should have a pocket.
ReplyDeleteA bus token! That was like the dark ages, wasn't it. But I guess the 1980's were a long time ago.
I know! To me, the 1980's is practically "after my time" and yet, it was over forty years ago. ARGGGHHH.
DeleteI love the pocket in the vest. Excellent.
You lived a hard life when you were young. I couldn't have done that.
ReplyDeleteAll women's clothes should have usuable pockets.
But I chose to do it so it was an adventure! It was sort of like living in a TV series about pioneers or something. It did get very real at times, though.
DeleteI'm with you on the pockets.
I enjoy trippin' with you.
ReplyDeleteHugs.
DeleteYou're quite right, pockets make anything wearable. I'm wondering if I can knit tiny pockets into my Ministry Socks. Today was a pocket day here, too, assembling two to be attached tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteLiving in a trailer in a tropical climate is I bet what gave you a lot of your empathy for Mr name escapes me, who does same.
You know- pockets in socks for people who live rough might be really handy. They could keep small things in them that they really need not to lose.
DeleteLiving in a trailer AND in a shack gave me a lot of empathy for a lot of people I doubt I ever would have gotten any other way.
No Man Lord is the name of the man or, actually, his real name is Harvey.
What if you made a sort of pinafore with pockets to wear over dresses that are devoid of pockets?
ReplyDeleteYour trip down memory lane was lovely. I wonder how much the young of today would appreciate all they have if they had lived lives a little less material.
I'm with you 100%!
DeleteI think pinafores would be a step too far. But I do have aprons with big pockets that I sometimes wear around here.
DeleteThe pocket looks good. I remember learning once how to do an inseam pocket but can't remember now. Probably I could manage if I had to.
ReplyDeleteThe ginger and mango are looking good, I hope you get a full grown mango tree and useable ginger.
That old wooden house looks like it might be fun to camp out in for maybe a weekend, but not for living in permanently. I like my home comforts these days.
There are probably about ten thousand Youtubes on how to put an inseam pocket into a dress or skirt.
DeleteI'll never get a mango. I think they need another tree as pollinator or actually, possibly a grafting procedure. But I should get some ginger. That's my plan. I'll plant that outside in the ground one of these days.
Well, I doubt I could live in that house now for a week but I did it then and in some ways, it was a graceful way of life.
What do you like to keep in your pockets?
ReplyDeleteGood question! Definitely my phone because I listen to audio books on it all the time. Or podcasts. I put things in my pockets that I'm taking from one side of the house to the other. Sometimes in the garden I stick a few beans or a piece of herb or some cherry tomatoes in one. When I'm shopping I keep my grocery list and a pen in my pocket. FOR SURE!
DeleteI think I'm kinda with you on that house. Oh I'm sure it was miserable to live in more often than not but when you start off as basic as that, you tend to be grateful for everything afterwards - and gratitude for what you have really is the root of all happiness!
ReplyDeleteI wish I had some pictures of that house, inside and out. It was truly a beautiful space in some ways. I remember I had a giant philodendron in it and a gallon jug that held a goldfish or two along with some water plants. It was a simple life, out of necessity. In some ways. Difficult in others.
DeleteI have got a feeling that you made all of this up.
ReplyDeleteWouldn't it be amazing if - just for a creative exercise - someone managed a blog that was entirely made up - the family members, the house, the trips to Publix, the sewing projects - everything. I guess that would be possible.
Judging by the number of people in early internet days back in the nineties, I think quite a few people freely wrote fiction in the guise of blogging! I found one person posing as twins, complete with arguments, one man using a female persona, etc. Pretty harmless. All operating on the "on the internet nobody knows you're a dog" principle!
DeleteI don't think I could possibly come up with the blog fodder I do if it didn't really happen. It sure would take a huge imagination. But you know- it would be a very interesting exercise in writing to create a blog out of a made-up life with made-up experiences. I sort of like that idea, Liz.
DeleteI get whatever yard work done between 7:30 and 8:30 AM. today I dead headed the zinnias and cut back the gone by spiderwort. I do need to water the pots still but the stuff in the ground is going to have to suck it up as our water bill was $70 for last month. good job on the pocket.
ReplyDeleteI have a back to the land story that I started to write here but decided to save it for a blog post. not nearly as interesting as yours though and it was the beginning of the end for my first husband and me.
I don't even get up until 8:30! I'm a sloth. Slothful.
DeleteI'd love to hear your back-to-the-land story, Ellen! I hope you write about it.
You'll be in the same position with that mango that we're in with the avocado -- what to do with a tree in a pot, in an area where it's too cold to plant it outside? For what it's worth, I've been amazed at how well our avocado has done over the 10 years or so that we've had it.
ReplyDeleteI loved your story about the trailer and the $75-a-year house! And hooray for getting the pockets done. I think if you have the patience for the embroidery it might look nice, even if it doesn't exactly match.
That mango has been in that pot for years and years but it isn't very big because even though I cover it in winter it still freezes some and I have to cut it back.
DeleteI might embroider that pocket but probably not before we leave for North Carolina!
I have an air-conditioner in Nashville story that always makes me smile and feel a bit of longing for those days. You've made me remember it, and I am grateful for that!
ReplyDeleteI'd love to hear it, Elizabeth. I always forget that you lived in Nashville but it makes me so happy that you did.
Deletelove the history of places you lived ...and how you dealt. We all have those, I think. But...the indian print bedspread/aka curtain/ room divider? conjured up good and old memories for me...... haven't seen one in years but they were so useful, weren't they? I'm early with this...but wishing you a minimal anxiety ridden preparation for your trip to NC.........and will look forward to news, and pics of course, and stories!
ReplyDeleteSusan M
The bedspread was just on a wall hanging in that trailer. I do love me a good Indian Print bedspread! You can still buy them.
DeleteAnd thank you, dear Susan. So far, I haven't gotten very anxious at all. In fact, I'm sort of astonished.
Thinking back on some of the living arrangements we felt Grateful for, I feel so very spoiled and privileged later on in Life. But, honestly some of the best and fondest Memories were made during the hardships of our lives and I too Loved each hovel or portable Home I ever lived in... it was far better than when I was Homeless with Two Kiddos. That Shanty pictured is something I too would think is Okay. Seems the problem these days is that Affordable Housing no longer exists for those needing it... and unless someone has been Homeless, they don't realize that any form of Shelter is better than none at all, no matter how substandard. I've lived in Airstreams, Quonset Huts, Mobile Homes, Condemned Houses, Haunted Historics, and Luxury McManses... some of the most miserable Years were living among the pretentiously affluent in a ridiculous sized Home, it was like a Gilded Cage.
ReplyDelete